أراك عصي الدمع شيمتك الصبر — Abu Firas Al Hamdani

أَراكَ عَصِيَّ الدَمعِ شيمَتُكَ الصَبرُ

أَما لِلهَوى نَهيٌ عَلَيكَ وَلا أَمرُ

I see you resist tears; your nature is patience.

Has love no prohibition over you, and no command?

بَلى أَنا مُشتاقٌ وَعِندِيَ لَوعَةٌ

وَلَكِنَّ مِثلي لايُذاعُ لَهُ سِرُّ

Indeed, I long, and within me is anguish,

But one like me does not have his secret broadcast.

إِذا اللَيلُ أَضواني بَسَطتُ يَدَ الهَوى

وَأَذلَلتُ دَمعاً مِن خَلائِقِهِ الكِبرُ

When night wastes me away, I stretch out the hand of passion,

And humble tears whose nature had been pride.

تَكادُ تُضيءُ النارُ بَينَ جَوانِحي

إِذا هِيَ أَذكَتها الصَبابَةُ وَالفِكرُ

The fire between my ribs almost shines forth

Whenever yearning and thought kindle it.

مُعَلِّلَتي بِالوَصلِ وَالمَوتُ دونَهُ

إِذا مِتَّ ظَمآناً فَلا نَزَلَ القَطرُ

You console me with union, though death stands before it;

If you die thirsty, may rain never fall.

حَفِظتُ وَضَيَّعتِ المَوَدَّةَ بَينَنا

وَأَحسَنَ مِن بَعضِ الوَفاءِ لَكِ العُذرُ

I remained faithful, while you squandered the love between us,

Yet your excuse is fairer to you than some forms of fidelity.

وَما هَذِهِ الأَيّامُ إِلّا صَحائِفٌ

لِأَحرُفِها مِن كَفِّ كاتِبِها بَشرُ

These days are nothing but pages

Whose letters, from their Writer’s hand, are human beings.

بِنَفسي مِنَ الغادينَ في الحَيِّ غادَةً

هَوايَ لَها ذَنبٌ وَبَهجَتُها عُذرُ

With my life I would ransom, among those going forth in the camp, a maiden:

My love for her is a fault, and her beauty its excuse.

تَروغُ إِلى الواشينَ فِيَّ وَإِنَّ لي

لَأُذناً بِها عَن كُلِّ واشِيَةٍ وَقرُ

She inclines toward those who slander me, although I possess

An ear deaf to every slanderess through her.

بَدَوتُ وَأَهلي حاضِرونَ لِأَنَّني

أَرى أَنَّ داراً لَستِ مِن أَهلِها قَفرُ

I went out to the desert while my people remained settled, because

I deem any dwelling whose people you are not among a wasteland.

وَحارَبتُ قَومي في هَواكِ وَإِنَّهُم

وَإِيّايَ لَولا حُبَّكِ الماءُ وَالخَمرُ

I fought my own people for love of you, though they and I,

Were it not for your love, would be like water and wine.

فَإِن يَكُ ماقالَ الوُشاةُ وَلَم يَكُن

فَقَد يَهدِمُ الإيمانُ ماشَيَّدَ الكُفرُ

Even if what the informers said were true—though it was not—

Faith may indeed demolish what unbelief has built.

وَفَيتُ وَفي بَعضِ الوَفاءِ مَذَلَّةٌ

لِإِنسانَةٍ في الحَيِّ شيمَتُها الغَدرُ

I was faithful, though in some fidelity there is humiliation,

To a woman in the camp whose nature is treachery.

وَقورٌ وَرَيعانُ الصِبا يَستَفِزُّها

فَتَأرَنُ أَحياناً كَما أَرِنَ المُهرُ

She is dignified, yet the first bloom of youth excites her,

And sometimes she frolics as a young colt frolics.

تُسائِلُني مَن أَنتَ وَهيَ عَليمَةٌ

وَهَل بِفَتىً مِثلي عَلى حالِهِ نُكرُ

She asks me, “Who are you?” though she knows full well;

Can a man like me, in his condition, be unknown?

فَقُلتُ كَما شاءَت وَشاءَ لَها الهَوى

قَتيلُكِ قالَت أَيَّهُم فَهُمُ كُثرُ

I replied as she wished, and as passion wished for her:

“Your slain man.” She said, “Which one? They are many.”

فَقُلتُ لَها لَو شِئتِ لَم تَتَعَنَّتي

وَلَم تَسأَلي عَنّي وَعِندَكِ بي خُبرُ

I told her, “Had you wished, you would not have been so obstinate,

Nor asked about me when you know me well.”

فَقالَت لَقَد أَزرى بِكَ الدَهرُ بَعدَنا

فَقُلتُ مَعاذَ اللَهِ بَل أَنتِ لا الدَهرُ

She said, “Time has indeed diminished you since we parted.”

I said, “God forbid—it was you, not time.”

وَما كانَ لِلأَحزانِ لَولاكِ مَسلَكٌ

إِلى القَلبِ لَكِنَّ الهَوى لِلبِلى جِسرُ

Sorrow would have found no pathway, were it not for you,

Into my heart; but passion is a bridge to ruin.

وَتَهلِكُ بَينَ الهَزلِ وَالجَدِّ مُهجَةٌ

إِذا ماعَداها البَينُ عَذَّبَها الهَجرُ

A soul perishes between jest and earnest:

When separation passes it by, abandonment torments it.

فَأَيقَنتُ أَن لاعِزَّ بَعدي لِعاشِقٍ

وَأَنَّ يَدي مِمّا عَلِقتُ بِهِ صِفرُ

I became certain that no lover after me will possess glory,

And that my hand is empty of what I clung to.

وَقَلَّبتُ أَمري لا أَرى لِيَ راحَةً

إِذا البَينُ أَنساني أَلَحَّ بِيَ الهَجرُ

I turned my affair over and saw no rest for myself:

When separation lets me forget, abandonment presses upon me.

فَعُدتُ إِلى حُكمِ الزَمانِ وَحُكمِها

لَها الذَنبُ لاتُجزى بِهِ وَلِيَ العُذرُ

So I returned to the judgment of time and to hers:

Hers is the fault, for which she goes unpunished; mine the excuse.

كَأَنّي أُنادي دونَ مَيثاءَ ظَبيَةً

عَلى شَرَفٍ ظَمياءَ جَلَّلَها الذُعرُ

It is as though, beyond Maythāʾ, I call to a gazelle,

Thirsty upon a height, enveloped in terror.

تَجَفَّلُ حيناً ثُمَّ تَرنو كَأَنَّها

تُنادي طَلاً بِالوادِ أَعجَزَهُ الخُضرُ

Now she starts away, then gazes, as though

Calling a fawn in the valley, thwarted by the vegetation.

فَلا تُنكِريني يا اِبنَةَ العَمِّ إِنَّهُ

لِيَعرِفُ مَن أَنكَرتِهِ البَدوُ وَالحَضرُ

Do not disown me, cousin, for

Bedouin and townsman know the one you disowned.

وَلا تُنكِريني إِنَّني غَيرُ مُنكِرٍ

إِذا زَلَّتِ الأَقدامُ وَاِستُنزِلَ النَصرُ

Do not disown me: I do not fail to recognize myself

When feet slip and victory must be brought down.

وَإِنّي لَجَرّارٌ لِكُلِّ كَتيبَةٍ

مُعَوَّدَةٍ أَن لايُخِلَّ بِها النَصرُ

I am indeed one who leads every battalion

Accustomed never to be failed by victory.

وَإِنّي لَنَزّالٌ بِكُلِّ مَخوفَةٍ

كَثيرٌ إِلى نُزّالِها النَظَرُ الشَزرُ

And I am one who descends into every place of dread,

Whose invaders receive many a hostile sideways glance.

فَأَظمَأُ حَتّى تَرتَوي البيضُ وَالقَنا

وَأَسغَبُ حَتّى يَشبَعَ الذِئبُ وَالنَسرُ

I thirst until the swords and lances drink their fill,

And hunger until the wolf and vulture are sated.

وَلا أُصبِحُ الحَيَّ الخَلوفَ بِغارَةٍ

وَلا الجَيشَ مالَم تَأتِهِ قَبلِيَ النُذرُ

I do not raid a camp at dawn while its men are absent,

Nor an army unless warnings have reached it before me.

وَيارُبَّ دارٍ لَم تَخَفني مَنيعَةٍ

طَلَعتُ عَلَيها بِالرَدى أَنا وَالفَجرُ

Many an impregnable abode that did not fear me

I mounted with death, together with the dawn.

وَحَيٍّ رَدَدتُ الخَيلَ حَتّى مَلَكتُهُ

هَزيماً وَرَدَّتني البَراقِعُ وَالخُمرُ

And many a tribe whose horsemen I drove back until I mastered it,

Defeated—yet veils and wine turned me away.

وَساحِبَةِ الأَذيالِ نَحوي لَقيتُها

فَلَم يَلقَها جافي اللِقاءِ وَلا وَعرُ

And many a trailing-robed woman who came toward me I met,

But no harsh or uncouth encounter met her.

وَهَبتُ لَها ما حازَهُ الجَيشُ كُلَّهُ

وَرُحتُ وَلَم يُكشَف لِأَبياتِها سِترُ

I granted her everything the army had seized,

And departed without the curtain of her tents being uncovered.

وَلا راحَ يُطغيني بِأَثوابِهِ الغِنى

وَلا باتَ يَثنيني عَنِ الكَرَمِ الفَقرُ

Wealth, in its robes, never departed making me insolent,

Nor did poverty spend the night turning me from generosity.

وَما حاجَتي بِالمالِ أَبغي وُفورَهُ

إِذا لَم أَفِر عِرضي فَلا وَفَرَ الوَفرُ

Why should I seek abundant wealth

If I do not guard my honor? Then may abundance never abound.

أَسِرتُ وَما صَحبي بِعُزلٍ لَدى الوَغى

وَلا فَرَسي مُهرٌ وَلا رَبُّهُ غَمرُ

I was captured, though my companions were not unarmed in battle,

Nor was my horse a colt, nor its master inexperienced.

وَلَكِن إِذا حُمَّ القَضاءُ عَلى اِمرِئٍ

فَلَيسَ لَهُ بَرٌّ يَقيهِ وَلا بَحرُ

But when fate is decreed against a man,

Neither land nor sea can protect him.

وَقالَ أُصَيحابي الفِرارُ أَوِ الرَدى

فَقُلتُ هُما أَمرانِ أَحلاهُما مُرُّ

My dear companions said, “Flight or death.”

I replied, “They are two choices, the sweeter of them bitter.”

وَلَكِنَّني أَمضي لِما لايُعيبُني

وَحَسبُكَ مِن أَمرَينِ خَيرَهُما الأَسرُ

Yet I proceed toward what will not disgrace me;

It is enough that, of two choices, captivity is the better.

يَقولونَ لي بِعتَ السَلامَةَ بِالرَدى

فَقُلتُ أَما وَاللَهِ مانالَني خُسرُ

They say to me, “You sold safety for death.”

I answered, “By God, no loss befell me.”

وَهَل يَتَجافى عَنِّيَ المَوتُ ساعَةً

إِذا ماتَجافى عَنِّيَ الأَسرُ وَالضَرُّ

Will death keep away from me for even an hour

If captivity and harm keep away from me?

هُوَ المَوتُ فَاِختَر ماعَلا لَكَ ذِكرُهُ

فَلَم يَمُتِ الإِنسانُ ماحَيِيَ الذِكرُ

It is death: choose the course whose remembrance exalts you,

For a man has not died so long as his memory lives.

وَلا خَيرَ في دَفعِ الرَدى بِمَذَلَّةٍ

كَما رَدَّها يَوماً بِسَوءَتِهِ عَمروُ

There is no good in averting death through humiliation,

As ʿAmr once averted it with his nakedness.

يَمُنّونَ أَن خَلّوا ثِيابي وَإِنَّما

عَلَيَّ ثِيابٌ مِن دِمائِهِمُ حُمرُ

They boast that they left my garments upon me, but truly

I wear garments red with their blood.

وَقائِمُ سَيفٍ فيهِمُ اندَقَّ نَصلُهُ

وَأَعقابُ رُمحٍ فيهِمُ حُطَّمُ الصَدرُ

A sword-hilt remains among them, its blade shattered,

And spear-stumps among them, their points smashed.

سَيَذكُرُني قَومي إِذا جَدَّ جِدُّهُم

وَفي اللَيلَةِ الظَلماءِ يُفتَقَدُ البَدرُ

My people will remember me when their struggle turns earnest;

On the pitch-dark night, the full moon is missed.

فَإِن عِشتُ فَالطَعنُ الَّذي يَعرِفونَهُ

وَتِلكَ القَنا وَالبيضُ وَالضُمَّرُ الشُقرُ

If I live, there will be the thrusting they know,

And those lances, swords, and lean chestnut horses.

وَإِن مُتُّ فَالإِنسانُ لابُدَّ مَيِّتٌ

وَإِن طالَتِ الأَيّامُ وَاِنفَسَحَ العُمرُ

And if I die, a human being must inevitably die,

Though his days grow long and his lifespan broad.

وَلَو سَدَّ غَيري ماسَدَدتُ اِكتَفوا بِهِ

وَما كانَ يَغلو التِبرُ لَو نَفَقَ الصُفرُ

Had another filled the place I filled, they would have sufficed with him;

Gold would not be precious if brass passed readily in trade.

وَنَحنُ أُناسٌ لا تَوَسُّطَ عِندَنا

لَنا الصَدرُ دونَ العالَمينَ أَوِ القَبرُ

We are a people with no middle station among us:

Ours is supremacy above all people—or the grave.

تَهونُ عَلَينا في المَعالي نُفوسُنا

وَمَن خَطَبَ الحَسناءَ لَم يُغلِها المَهرُ

Our lives seem cheap to us in pursuit of high glory;

Whoever courts a beauty does not deem her bride-price excessive.

أَعَزُّ بَني الدُنيا وَأَعلى ذَوي العُلا

وَأَكرَمُ مَن فَوقَ التُرابِ وَلا فَخرُ

We are the mightiest of this world’s sons, the highest of the exalted,

And the noblest of all upon the earth—without boasting.