جهد الصبابة ما أكابد فيك — Ahmed Shawqi

جَهدُ الصَبابَةِ ما أُكابِدُ فيكِ

لَو كانَ ما قَد ذُقتُهُ يَكفيكِ

Love's utmost anguish is what I endure for you;

If only what I have tasted were enough for you.

حَتّامَ هِجراني وَفيمَ تَجَنُّبي

وَإِلامَ بي ذُلُّ الهَوى يُغريكِ

How long will you forsake me, and why avoid me?

And how long will love's abasement embolden you against me?

قَد مُتُّ مِن ظَمَإٍ فَلَو سامَحتِني

أَن أَشتَهي ماءَ الحَياةِ بِفيكِ

I have died of thirst; if only you would permit me

To desire the water of life within your mouth.

أَجِدُ المَنايا في رِضاكِ هِيَ المُنى

ماذا وَراءَ المَوتِ ما يُرضيكِ

I find death, with your favor, the very thing I desire;

What lies beyond death that could please you?

يا بِنتَ مَخضوبِ الصَوارِمِ وَالقَنا

بَرِأَت بَنانُكِ مِن سِلاحِ أَبيكِ

O daughter of one whose swords and spears are stained,

Your fingertips are innocent of your father's arms.

فَخِضابُ تِلكَ مِنَ العُيونِ وِقايَةٌ

وَخِضابُ ذاكَ مِنَ الدَمِ المَسفوكِ

For the dye on those guards against the evil eye,

While that one's stain comes from spilled blood.

جَفناكِ أَيَّهُما الجَريءُ عَلى دَمي

بِأَبي هُما مِن قاتِلٍ وَشَريكِ

Your two eyelids—which dares to shed my blood?

My father be their ransom—a killer and an accomplice!

بِالسَيفِ وَالسِحرِ المُبينِ وَبِالطِلى

حَمَلا عَلَيَّ وَبِالقَنا المَشبوكِ

With the sword, manifest sorcery, and wine,

The two charged me, and with interwoven spears.

بِهِما وَبي سقَمٌ وَمِن عَجَبِ الهَوى

عُدوانُ مُنكَسِرٍ عَلى مَنهوكِ

Both they and I are ailing; and one of love's wonders

Is a languid one's assault upon one exhausted.

رِفقاً بِمُسبِلَةِ الشُؤونِ قَريحَةٍ

تَسلو عَنِ الدُنيا وَلا تَسلوكِ

Be gentle with a wounded eye that pours its tears,

That forgets the world, but does not forget you.

أَبكَيتِها وَقَعَدتِ عَن إِنسانِها

يا لِلرِجالِ لِمُغرَقٍ مَتروكِ

You made it weep, yet left its pupil unaided;

O men, help one drowned and forsaken!

ضَلَّت كَراها في غَياهِبِ حالِكٍ

ضَلَّ الصَباحَ عَلَيهِ صَوتُ الديكِ

Its sleep went astray in the depths of a pitch-black night,

In which the cock's crow lost its way to dawn.

رَقَّ النَسيمُ عَلى دُجاهُ لِأَنَّتي

وَرَثى لِحالي في السَماءِ أَخوكِ

The breeze grew tender in its gloom at my moaning,

And your brother in the sky pitied my plight.

قاسَيتُهُ حَتّى اِنجَلى بِالصُبحِ عَن

سِرّي المَصونِ وَمَدمَعي المَهتوكِ

I endured it until, at dawn, it drew back from

My guarded secret and my tearful eye laid bare.

سُلَّت سُيوفُ الحَيِّ إِلّا واحِداً

إِفرِندُهُ في جَفنِهِ يَحميكِ

All the clan's swords were drawn, save one;

Its watered blade protects you within its sheath.

جَرَّدتِهِ في غَيرِ حَقٍّ كَالأُلى

سَلّوا سُيوفَهُمُ عَلى أَهليكِ

You unsheathed it without right, like those

Who drew their swords against your people.

طَلَعَت عَلى حَرَمِ المَمالِكِ خيَلُهُم

ناراً سَنابِكُها عَلى البَلجيكِ

Their cavalry swept upon the sanctuary of kingdoms,

Their hooves blazing upon the Belgians.

البَأسُ وَالجَبَروتُ في أَعرافِها

وَالمَوتُ حَولَ شَكيمِها المَعلوكِ

Might and tyranny were in their manes,

And death lay around their champed bits.

عَرَّت لِياجَ عَنِ الحُصونِ وَجَرَّدَت

نامورَ عَن فولاذِها المَشكوكِ

They stripped Liège of its fortresses and stripped

Namur of its pierced steel.

تَمشي عَلى خَطِّ المُلوكِ وَخَتمِهِم

وَعَلى مَصونِ مَواثِقٍ وَصُكوكِ

They tread upon the kings' signatures and seals,

And upon the inviolability of covenants and deeds.

وَالحَربُ لا عَقلٌ لَها فَتَسومُها

ما يَنبَغي مِن خُطَّةٍ وَسُلوكِ

And war has no reason, so you cannot demand of it

A fitting course of action and conduct.

دَكَّت حُصونَ القَومِ إِلّا مَعقِلاً

مِن نَخوَةٍ وَحَمِيَّةٍ وَفُتوكِ

It battered down the people's fortresses, save a stronghold

Of proud courage, ardor, and ferocity.

وَإِذا اِحتَمى الأَقوامُ بِاِستِقلالِهِم

لاذَوا بِرُكنٍ لَيسَ بِالمَدكوكِ

And when peoples take shelter in their independence,

They find refuge in a bulwark that cannot be battered down.

وَلَقَد أَقولُ وَأَدمُعي مُنهَلَّةٌ

باريرُ لَم يَعرِفكِ مَن يَغزوكِ

And indeed I say, while my tears stream down:

Barir, whoever invades you has never known you.

ما خِلتُ جَنّاتِ النَعيمِ وَلا الدُمى

تُرمى بِمَشهودِ النَهارِ سَفوكِ

I never thought the gardens of bliss, nor the fair figures,

Would be targets of bloodshed in broad daylight.

زَعَموكِ دارَ خَلاعَةٍ وَمَجانَةٍ

وَدَعارَةٍ يا إِفكِ ما زَعَموكِ

They called you a house of debauchery and wantonness,

And vice—oh, the lies they told of you!

إِن كُنتِ لِلشَهَواتِ رَيّاً فَالعُلا

شَهَواتُهُنَّ مُرَوَّياتٌ فيكِ

If you slake the thirst of desires, then the heights of glory

Have their desires quenched in you.

تَلِدينَ أَعلامَ البَيانِ كَأَنَّهُم

أَصحابُ تيجانٍ مُلوكُ أَريكِ

You give birth to luminaries of eloquence, as though they were

Wearers of crowns, kings upon thrones.

فاضَت عَلى الأَجيالِ حِكمَةُ شِعرِهِم

وَتَفَجَّرَت كَالكَوثَرِ المَعروكِ

The wisdom of their poetry has overflowed upon generations,

And gushed like the much-frequented al-Kawthar.

وَالعِلمُ في شَرقِ البِلادِ وَغَربِها

ما حَجَّ طالِبُهُ سِوى ناديكِ

And learning, in the lands' east and west—

Its seeker has made pilgrimage only to your assembly.

العَصرُ أَنتِ جَمالُهُ وَجَلالُهُ

وَالرُكنُ مِن بُنيانِهِ المَسموكِ

You are the age's beauty and its majesty,

And the pillar of its lofty edifice.

أَخَذَت لِواءَ الحَقِّ عَنكِ شُعوبُهُ

وَمَشَت حَضارَتُهُ بِنورِ بَنيكِ

Its peoples took the banner of justice from you,

And its civilization advanced by the light of your sons.

وَخِزانَةُ التاريخِ ساعَةَ عَرضِها

لِلفَخرِ خَيرُ كُنوزِها ماضيكِ

And history's treasury, at the time of its display

For glory, has your past as its finest treasure.

وَمِنَ العَجائِبِ أَنَّ واديكِ الثَرى

وَمَراتِعَ الغُزلانِ في واديكِ

And one marvel is that your valley is the earth,

And the gazelles' pastures are within your valley.

يا مَكتَبي قَبلَ الشَبابِ وَمَلعَبي

وَمَقيلَ أَيّامِ الشَبابِ النوكِ

O my school before youth, and my playground,

And my midday refuge in the days of foolish youth,

وَمَراحَ لَذّاتي وَمَغداها عَلى

أُفُقٍ كَجَنّاتِ النَعيمِ ضَحوكِ

And my pleasures' evening retreat and morning haunt, upon

A smiling horizon like the gardens of bliss,

وَسَماءَ وَحيِ الشِعرِ مِن مُتَدَفِّقٍ

سَلِسٍ عَلى نَولِ السَماءِ مَحوكِ

And a heaven of poetic inspiration, with gushing verse,

Smooth-flowing, woven on the loom of heaven.

لَمّا اِحتَمَلتُ لَكَ الصَنيعَةَ لَم أَجِد

غَيرَ القَوافي ما بِهِ أُجزيكِ

When I bore the debt of your kindness, I found

Nothing but rhymes with which to repay you.

إِن لَم يَقوكِ بِكُلِّ نَفسٍ حُرَّةٍ

فَاللَهُ جَلَّ جَلالُهُ واقيكِ

If they do not shield you with every free soul,

Then God—exalted be His majesty—is your protector.