هاجتك ورقاء النغم — Abu Al Maali Al Talawi

هاجتكَ وَرقاءُ النَغَم

خَطباءُ تَهتف في عَلَم

A gray dove's song has stirred you—

dusky-plumed, she calls upon a height.

عَجماءُ يُعرِبُ لَحنُها

سِرَّ الغَرامِ المكتَتم

Wordless, her melody expresses

the hidden secret of passion.

تَروي أَحاديثَ الهَوى

عَن فَيضِ دَمعٍ عَن سَقَم

She recounts tales of love,

of flooding tears, of sickness.

عَجَباً لَه تَشكُو النَوى

وَالكَفُّ خُصِّب بِالعَنَم

How strange! She laments separation,

though her palm is dyed with ‘anam-red.

ذَكَرَت عُهوداً بِالحِمى

سُقِيَ الحِمى عَهدَ الدِيَم

She recalled old days in the sanctuary—

may it be watered as in the days of steady rain!

عَهداً لسانِحَةِ المَها

يَخطُرنَ في حُلَلِ النِعَم

Ah, those days of the passing oryx,

swaying in robes of luxury,

بِدِمَشقَ بَينَ رُبوعِها

فَرَبيعها الأَحوى الأَجَم

in Damascus, amid her dwellings,

and her dark-green, wooded spring,

وَبَرادِها فَبريدُها

فَفناءِ جامِعِها الخِضَم

and her Barad, and her Barid,

and the forecourt of her vast congregational mosque.

فَرواقُهُ دار العُلو

مِ فَصحنُهُ دار الحِكَم

Its arcade is the home of learning,

and its courtyard the home of wisdom.

فَرِياضُها فَغِياضها

فَحياضُها تُبري السَقَم

Then her gardens, and her thickets,

and her pools that cure sickness;

فَهواؤُها فَمياهُها

فَزلالُها العَذبُ الأَجَم

then her air, and her waters,

and her limpid water, sweet and plentiful;

فَمَقيلِ هاتيكَ الرُبا

فَظِلالُ هاتيكَ السَلَم

then the noonday resting place upon those hills,

and the shade of those acacias;

فَمَسيل باناسٍ إِلى

بَطحاءِ وادٍ مُحتَرَم

then Banas's watercourse, running to

the pebbled floor of a revered valley.

حَصباؤُهُ دُرٌّ وَتُر

بَةُ أَرضِهِ مِسكٌ يُشَم

Its pebbles are pearls, and the soil

of its ground is musk to breathe in.

تِلكَ المَنازِلُ بِالحِمى

لا كَالمنازل مِن إِضَم

Those are the dwellings in the sanctuary,

not like the dwellings of Iḍam,

فَصَفا العَقيقُ فَلَعلَع

فَالرَقمتين فَذي سَلَم

or Safa of al-‘Aqiq, or La‘la‘,

or al-Raqmatayn, or Dhu Salam,

فَظِلالُ رامَةَ فَالنقا

فَالمُنحَني فرُبى أَكَم

or the shades of Rama, or al-Naqa,

or al-Munhani, or the heights of Akam.

بَلدٌ حَبيبٌ أَهلُهُ

فَاِعجب وَلم يَرعوا ذِمَم

A city whose people are beloved—

marvel at that, though they kept no pledges!

أَصبو إِلَيها كُلَّما

عَرَفَ الصَبا مِنها نَسَم

I yearn for her whenever

the east wind scents a breath from her.

هِيَ جَنّةُ الدُنيا وَشَم

مُ تُرابِها يَشفي الأَلَم

She is this world's paradise, and breathing

the scent of her soil heals pain.

يَكفيكَ حُسناً أَنَّها

في بَعض آثارِ إِدَم

It is beauty enough that she is

among certain vestiges of Idam.

فارقتُها لا عَن رضى

وَهَجَرتُها لا عَن سَأَم

I left her, not by choice,

and forsook her, not from weariness.

هَذا وَليلٍ مِثل يَو

مِ الحَشرِ فيهِ لم أَنَم

This—and by a night like the Day

of Resurrection, in which I did not sleep!

أُمسي بِهِ حَيرانَ مِن

فكرِ المَعيشَةِ في أَلَم

I pass the evening in it, bewildered by

thoughts of a livelihood, in pain,

بِرُبُوعِ إِسلامبولَ في

دارِ الغَرامَةِ حِلفَ غَم

in the quarters of Islambol, in

an abode of loss, wedded to grief.

لا أَطعَمُ الخُبزَ السَمي

ذَ بِها وَقَد مُلِئَت نِعَم

I taste no fine-flour bread

there, though she is filled with bounty.

كَلّا وَلا اللَحمَ القَدي

دَ وَقَد أَراه عَلى وَضَم

No, nor cured meat,

though I see it on a butcher's board.

بَل أَشتهي كسدانَةٍ

لِتسد مِن رَمَقي فَلَم

Rather, I crave a chestnut,

to keep a little life in me—but no.

مِن بَعدِ أَن لَم يَبقَ لِي

شَيءٌ يُقالُ لَهُ بِكَم

Since I no longer have

anything of which to ask, 'How much?'

إِلّا بَقايا مُهجَةٍ

هِيَ ملكُ مَولىً ذُو كَرَم

except the remnants of a life

that belongs to a generous patron.

مَولىً حِماهُ كَعبةٌ

وَظِلالُ ساحَتِهِ حَرَم

A patron whose precinct is a Kaaba,

and whose courtyard's shade is a sanctuary.

وَجَنابُه لِشِفاءِ أَف

واه الأَماثل مُلتَثَم

And his threshold, to heal the mouths

of the noblest, is a place to kiss.

تَسعى إِلى أَبوابِهِ

مِن كُلِّ فَجٍّ مُقتَحَم

They hasten to his doors

from every pass they brave,

فَتَنالُ مِن إِحسانِهِ

ما يَمَّمَتهُ مِن أُمَم

and obtain his beneficence—

all the nations that have sought him,

إِلا عَبيدَ جَنابِكُم

دَرويشُ بابِكُم المُؤَم

except your court's lowly servant,

the dervish at your much-sought door.

هَلّا نَظَرتُم نَحوَهُ

نَظَر المَوالي لِلخَدَم

Would you not look toward him

as masters look upon their servants,

وَرَحِمتُموهُ بِخِدمَةٍ

كَرَماً وَلَو دارُ الغَنَم

and show him mercy with employment,

out of generosity—even in a sheepfold?

فَوحقِّ نِعمَتِكُم قَسَم

ما ذاقَ لَحماً مُنذُ كَم

For by your beneficence—I swear—

he has not tasted meat for so long!

يا مَن سَحائِبُ فَضلِهِ

فَضلُ السَحابِ إِذا اِنسَجَم

O you, whose clouds of bounty

surpass the clouds when they pour!

لا زِلتَ مَحروسَ الجَنا

بِ بِعِزّةٍ جَمّ الكَرَم

May your person ever be protected

with might, abundant in generosity,

في دَولَةٍ مَحسودَةٍ

لِبَني الرَجا تُولي الكَرَم

in envied good fortune,

bestowing bounty on the sons of hope,

ما غَرَّدَت مُفتنَّةٌ

في أَيكِها ورقَ النَغَم

as long as a skillful songstress trills

within her grove in dove-gray notes.