ابتغوا ناصية الشمس مكانا — Ahmed Shawqi

اِبتَغوا ناصِيَةَ الشَمسِ مَكانا

وَخُذوا القِمَّةَ عَلَماً وَبَيانا

Seek your station at the sun's brow,

And take the summit as your banner and proclamation.

وَاِطلُبوا بِالعَبقَرِيّاتِ المَدى

لَيسَ كُلُّ الخَيلِ يَشهَدنَ الرِهنا

Reach for the farthest bounds through works of genius;

Not every horse takes part in the race.

اِبعَثوها سابِقاتٍ نُجُبا

تَملَأُ المِضمارَ مَعنىً وَعِيانا

Send them forth, noble thoroughbreds racing ahead,

Filling the racecourse in spirit and in sight.

وَثِبوا لِلعِزِّ مِن صَهوَتِها

وَخُذوا المَجدَ عِناناً فَعِنانا

And leap to honor from their saddlebacks,

And seize glory, rein after rein.

لا تُثيبوها عَلى ما قَلَّدَت

مِن أَيادٍ حَسَداً أَو شَنَآنا

Do not repay them for what they have bestowed

Of favors, with envy or hatred.

وَضَئيلٍ مِن أُساةِ الحَيِّ لَم

يُعنَ بِاللَحمِ وَبِالشَحمِ اِختِزانا

And a slight man among the community's physicians, who has not

Busied himself with storing up flesh and fat,

ضامِرٍ في شُفعَةٍ تَحسَبُهُ

نِضوَ صَحراءَ اِرتَدى الشَمسَ دِهانا

Lean in his suit, you would take him for

A desert-worn camel, wearing the sun as ointment,

أَو طَبيباً آيِباً مِن طيبَةٍ

لَم تَزَل تَندى يَداهُ زَعفَرانا

Or a physician returning from Thebes,

His hands still moist with saffron.

تُنكِرُ الأَرضُ عَلَيهِ جِسمَهُ

وَاِسمُهُ أَعظَمُ مِنها دَوَرانا

The earth refuses to acknowledge his body,

Yet his name makes a wider circuit than the earth.

نالَ عَرشَ الطِبِّ أُمحوتَبٍ

وَتَلَقّى مِن يَدَيهِ الصَولَجانا

He attained Imhotep's throne of medicine,

And received the scepter from his hands.

يا لِأَمحوتَبَ مِن مُستَألِهٍ

لَم يَلِد إِلّا حَوارِيّاً هِجانا

Ah, Imhotep, a man deemed divine,

Who begot only a pure-born disciple,

خاشِعاً لِلَّهِ لَم يُزهَ وَلَم

يُرهِقِ النَفسَ اِغتِراراً وَاِفتِتانا

Humble before God, neither puffed with pride nor

Burdening his soul with conceit and self-infatuation.

يَلمُسُ القُدرَةُ لَمساً كُلَّما

قَلَبَ المَوتى وَجَسَّ الحَيَوانا

He touches divine power itself whenever

He examines the dead and palpates the living.

لَو يُرى اللَهُ بِمِصباحٍ لَما

كانَ إِلّا العِلمَ جَلَّ اللَهُ شانا

If God could be seen by a lamp, that lamp

Would be knowledge alone—exalted be God's majesty.

في خِلالٍ لَفَتَت زَهرَ الرُبى

وَسَجايا أَنِسَت الشَربَ الدِنانا

Endowed with virtues that captivate the hillside flowers,

And traits that make drinkers forget their wine-jars.

لَو أَتاهُ موجَعاً حاسِدُهُ

سَلَّ مِن جَنَبِ الحَسودِ السَرطانا

Were his envier to come to him in pain,

He would draw the cancer from the envier's side.

خَيرُ مَن عَلَّمَ في القَصرِ وَمَن

شَقَّ عَن مُستَتِرِ الداءِ الكِنانا

The best of those who taught at the Palace, and those who

Tore the covering from hidden disease.

كُلُّ تَعليمٍ نَراهُ ناقِصاً

سُلَّمٌ رَثٌّ إِذا اِستُعمِلَ خانا

Every teaching we find deficient

Is a rickety ladder that betrays you when used:

دَرَكٌ مُستَحدَثٌ مِن دَرَجٍ

وَمِنَ الرِفعَةِ ما حَطَّ الدُخانا

A new descent contrived from upward steps;

And some elevation brings even smoke low.

لا عَدِمنا لِلسُيوطِيِّ يَداً

خُلِقَت لِلفَتقِ وَالرَتقِ بَنانا

May we never lack al-Suyuti's hand,

With fingers fashioned for opening and stitching.

تَصرِفِ المِشرَطَ لِلبُرءِ كَما

صَرَفَ الرُمحُ إِلى النَصرِ السِنانا

It directs the scalpel toward healing, as

The spear directed its point toward victory.

مَدَّها كَالأَجَلِ المَبسوطِ في

طَلَبِ البُرءِ اِجتِهاداً وَاِفتِنانا

He extended it like a lengthened lifespan, in

Pursuit of healing, with diligence and artistry.

تَجِدُ الفولاذَ فيها مُحسِناً

أَخَذَ الرِفقَ عَلَيها وَاللِيانا

You find the steel in it doing good,

Having learned gentleness and softness from it.

يَدُ إِبراهيمَ لَو جِئتَ لَها

بِذَبيحِ الطَيرِ عادَ الطَيَرانا

The hand of Ibrahim—were you to bring it

A slaughtered bird, it would return to flight.

لَم تَخِط لِلناسِ يَوماً كَفَناً

إِنَّما خاطَت بَقاءً وَكِيانا

It never sewed a shroud for anyone;

It has stitched only survival and existence.

وَلَقَد يُؤسى ذَوو الجَرحى بِها

مِن جِراحِ الدَهرِ أَو يُشفى الحَزانى

Indeed, through it the wounded's kin are healed

Of time's wounds, or the sorrowful are cured.

نَبَغَ الجيلُ عَلى مِشرَطِها

في كِفاحِ المَوتِ ضَرباً وَطِعانا

A generation excelled under its scalpel,

Fighting death with blows and thrusts.

لَو أَتَت قَبلَ نُضوجِ الطِبِّ ما

وَجَدَ التَنويمُ عَوناً فَاِستَعانا

Had it come before medicine matured,

Anesthesia would have found no helper to call upon.

يا طِرازاً يَبعَثُ اللَهُ بِهِ

في نَواحي مُلكِهِ آناً فَآنا

O exemplar whom God sends forth

Throughout His kingdom, time and again,

مِن رِجالٍ خُلِقوا أَلوِيَةً

وَنُجوماً وَغُيوثاً وَرِعانا

Among men created to be banners,

And stars, and life-giving rains, and mountain peaks.

قادَةُ الناسِ وَإِن لَم يَقرُبوا

طَبَعاتِ الهِندِ وَالسُمرَ اللِدانا

Leaders of men, though they never approached

The swords of India and supple brown spears;

وَغَذاءَ الجيلِ فَالجيلِ وَإِن

نَسِيَ الأَجيالُ كَالطِفلِ اللِبانا

And nourishment for generation after generation, though

The generations, like a child, forget the milk.

وَهُمو الأَبطالُ كانَت حَربُهُم

مُنذُ شَنّوها عَلى الجَهلِ عَوانا

They are the heroes; their war has been,

Since they waged it against ignorance, ever renewed.

يا أَخي وَالذُخرُ في الدُنيا أَخٌ

حاضِرُ الخَيرِ عَلى الخَيرِ أَعانا

O my brother—a brother is this world's treasure,

Ready with kindness, who has helped us toward good.

لَكَ عِندَ اِبنَي أَو عِندي يَدٌ

لَستُ آلوها اِدِّكاراً أَو صِيانا

You have done my son—or me—a kindness

That I never fail to remember or preserve.

حَسُنَت مِنّي وَمِنهُ مَوقِعاً

فَجَعَلنا حِرزَها الشُكرَ الحُسانا

It was well received by both of us,

So we made beautiful gratitude its safeguard.

هَل تَرى أَنتَ فَإِنّي لَم أَجِد

كَجَميلِ الصُنعِ بِالشُكرِ اِقتِرانا

Have you yourself seen—for I have never found—

A union like a gracious deed joined to gratitude?

وَإِذا الدُنيا خَلَت مِن خَيرٍ

وَخَلَت مِن شاكِرٍ هانَت هَوانا

And if the world is emptied of goodness

And emptied of the grateful, it grows utterly base.

دَفَعَ اللَهُ حُسَيناً في يَدٍ

كَيَدِ الأَلطافِ رِفقاً وَاِحتِضانا

God entrusted Husayn to a hand

Like the hand of tender mercies, gentle and embracing.

لَو تَناوَلتُ الَّذي قَد لَمَسَت

مِنهُ ما زِدتُ حِذاراً وَحَنانا

Had I handled what that hand had touched

Of him, I could have added no caution or tenderness.

جُرحُهُ كانَ بِقَلبي يا أَباً

لا أُنَبّيهِ بِجُرحي كَيفَ كانا

His wound was in my heart, O father,

Whom I need not tell how my own wound felt.

لَطَفَ اللَهُ فَعوفينا مَعاً

وَاِرتَهَنّا لَكَ بِالشُكرِ لِسانا

God was gracious, and we both recovered,

And pledged our tongue to you in gratitude.