إن المنية لا تبقي على أحد — Abn Rumi

إن المنِيَّةَ لا تُبْقي على أحَدِ

ولا تهابُ أخا عزٍّ ولا حَشَدِ

Indeed, death spares no one,

Nor fears one possessed of might or a gathered host.

هذا الأميرُ أَتَتْهُ وهْو في كَنَفٍ

كاللَّيْل من عُدَدٍ ما شئْتَ أو عَدَدِ

It came to this prince while he stood within a shelter

Dark as night, with all the arms or numbers you could wish,

من كلِّ مُسْتَعْذِبٍ لِلْموتِ دَيْدَنُهُ

بَزُّ الكُماة ولُبْسُ البيض والزَّرَدِ

Of men, each savoring death, whose constant practice

Is despoiling armored warriors and wearing helmets and mail.

مُعْتَادَةٌ قَنَصَ الأبْطال شِكَّتُهُ

يرى الطِّرادَ غداة الرَّوعِ كالطَّرَدِ

His battle-gear is accustomed to hunting heroes;

He sees lance-combat on the morning of terror as a hunt.

كأّنه اللَّيْث لا تَثْنِي عَزيمَتَهُ

إلّا عَزِيمتُهُ أو جُرْعةُ النَّفَدِ

As though he were a lion: nothing turns his resolve aside

Except his own resolve, or a draught of extinction.

ولم تزلْ طوْعَ كَفَّيْهِ يُصَرِّفُها

بين الأنام ولا تعْصِيه في أَحَدِ

And Death had ever obeyed his hands; he directed her

Among mankind, and she defied him over no one,

حتى أتاه رسولُ الموت يُؤْذِنُهُ

أن البقاء لوَجْه الواحِد الصَّمَد

Until death's messenger came to inform him

That permanence belongs to the Face of the One, the Self-Sufficient.

للَّه من هالِكٍ وافَى الحِمامُ بِهِ

أُخرَى الحياةِ وأخْرَى المجدِ في أمدِ

By God, what a man is lost! Death brought him

To life's furthest reach and glory's, in one span.

كم مُقْلَةٍ بعدَه عَبْرَى مُؤَرَّقَةٍ

كأَنما كُحِلَتْ سَمَّاً على رمدِ

How many an eye, after him, is tearful and sleepless,

As though lined with poison for kohl while already inflamed.

جادتْ عليه فأغْنَتْ أن يُقال لها

يا عيْنُ جُودِي بدَمْعٍ منك مُطَّردِ

It wept so freely for him that none needed to tell it:

"O eye, give generously of your tears in an unbroken stream."

إنْ لا يكن ظُفُرُ الهَيْجَا مَنِيَّتَهُ

فأَكْرَمُ النَّبْتِ يَذْوِي غير مُحْتَصَدِ

If battle's claw was not his doom,

For the noblest plants wither without being reaped.

أما ترى الغَرْسَ لا تَذْوي كَرائمُهُ

إلا على سُوقِها في سائر الأبدِ

Do you not see that the finest planted trees do not wither

Except upon their own trunks, throughout all time?

لِمِيتةِ السِّيْفِ قَوْمٌ يشْرُفُونَ بها

لَيْسوا من المجْدِ في غاياتِه البُعَدِ

Some men are ennobled by a death by the sword;

They are not at the farthest limits of glory.

عزُّ الحياة وعزُّ الموْت ما اجْتَمعا

أسْنَى وأَبْنَى لِبَيْت العِزِّ ذي العُمُدِ

Honor in life and honor in death, whenever they unite,

Are more radiant, and build honor's pillared house more firmly.

مَوْتُ السَّلامة للإنسان نَعْلَمُهُ

وإنَّما القِتْلةُ الشَّنْعاءُ للأَسَدِ

A peaceful death, we know, belongs to man;

The hideous slaughter is for the lion alone.

لم يُعْمِل السَّيْفَ ظُلماً في ضَرائبه

فلم يُسَلَّطْ عليه سيفُ ذي قَوَدِ

He never wielded the sword unjustly against those he struck,

So no avenger's sword was loosed upon him.

لا تَبْعَدَنَّ أبا العباس من مَلِكٍ

وإنْ نأيْتَ وإن أصْبحتَ في البَعَدِ

May you never be far, Abu al-Abbas—what a king!—

Though you have gone afar, though you now dwell in remoteness.

غادَرْتَ حوْضَ المنايا إذْ شَربْتَ بِهِ

عذْبَ المذاق كذوب الشَّهْد بالبَردِ

When you drank there, you left the pool of death

Sweet to the taste, like honey dissolved in hailwater.

وإنَّ فَضْلَةَ كأْسٍ أنتَ مُفْضِلُها

لَذاتُ بَرْدٍ على الأحْشَاء والكَبدِ

And surely the remnant of a cup you have left behind

Brings coolness indeed to the entrails and the liver.

ما متَّ بل مات أهلُ الأرْض كلُّهمُ

إذ بنتَ منْهم وكنت الروح في الجسدِ

You did not die; rather, all the people of earth died

When you parted from them—you were the spirit in the body.

فأنت أولى وإن أصْبحت في جَدَثٍ

بأن تُعَزَّى بأهل الوَعْث والجَدَدِ

So you, though now within a grave, have the greater right

To receive condolences for the people of rough and level ground.

كم من مصائبَ كان الدهرُ أخْلَقَها

أضحى بك النَّاسُ في أثوابها الجُدُدِ

How many calamities had Time worn threadbare!

Through you, people now wear those calamities' new garments.

من بين باكٍ له عينٌ تساعده

وبين آخر مَطْويٍّ على كمدِ

Among them is a weeper whose eye comes to his aid,

And another wrapped in inward grief.

فَعَبْرَةٌ في حُدُور لا رُقُوء لها

وزفْرةٌ تملأ الأحْشاء في صَعَدِ

A tear descends with no end to its flow,

And a sigh fills the entrails as it rises.

سوَّيْتَ في الحُزْن بين العالَمينَ كما

سوَّيْتَ بينهُم في العيشَة الرَّغَدِ

You made all people equal in sorrow, just as

You made them equal in a life of ease.

بثَثْتَ شَجْوَكَ فيهم إذ فُقدْتَ كما

بثثت رفْدَكَ فيهم غَيْر مُفْتَقَدِ

You spread grief for you among them when you were lost, just as

You spread your bounty among them while still present.

عَدْلا حياةٍ وموْتٍ منْك لو وُزِنا

هَذَا بهذَاك لم يَنْقُصْ ولم يَزدِ

Your fairness in life and death—if both were weighed,

One against the other, neither would be less nor more.

قدْ كنتَ أَنْسَيْتَهُمْ أن يذْكُروا حَزَناً

فَاليوم ينْسَوْن ذكْرَ الصبْر والجلدِ

You had made them forget to recall sorrow;

Today they forget all thought of patience and fortitude.

نَكَأْتَ منهم كُلُوماً كان يَكلِمُها

رَيْبُ الزمان فتأسوها بخَيْرِ يَدِ

You reopened wounds in them that used to be inflicted

By Time's vicissitudes, and you would heal them with the best of hands.

عجبتُ للأرض لم تَرْجُفْ جوانبُها

وللجبال الرَّواسِي كيْفَ لمْ تَمِدِ

I marveled at the earth, whose sides did not quake,

And at the firmly rooted mountains—how did they not sway?

عجِبتُ للشمس لم تُكْسَفْ لمهْلِكِهِ

وهْوَ الضِّياء الذي لولاه لم تَقِدِ

I marveled that the sun was not eclipsed at his death,

Though he was the radiance without which it would not blaze.

هَلّا وَفَتْ كوفاء البدر فادَّرَعَتْ

ثوبَ الكُسُوف فلم تُشْرقْ على بلدِ

Why did it not keep faith as the full moon did, and don

The robe of eclipse, and thus shine upon no land?

لا ظُلْمَ لَوْ شَاهَدَتْ من حال مَصْرَعه

ما شاهَدَ البدرُ لم تشرق ولم تَكَدِ

No blame: had it seen, of the circumstances of his death,

What the full moon saw, it would not have shone, nor come near to shining.