كل حي على المنية غادي — Ahmed Shawqi

كُلُّ حَيٍّ عَلى المَنِيَّةِ غادي

تَتَوالى الرِكابُ وَالمَوتُ حادي

Every living being is bound for death;

Caravans follow one another, and Death is their driver.

ذَهَب الأَوَّلونَ قَرناً فَقَرنا

لَم يَدُم حاضِرٌ وَلَم يَبقَ بادي

The earlier generations passed, generation after generation;

No townsman lasted, and no desert dweller remained.

هَل تَرى مِنهُمُ وَتَسمَعُ عَنهُمُ

غَيرَ باقي مَآثِرٍ وَأَيادي

Do you see anything of them, and hear anything of them,

But enduring achievements and acts of kindness?

كُرَةُ الأَرضِ رَمَت صَولَجانا

وَطَوَت مِن مَلاعِبٍ وَجِيادِ

The earth’s ball has cast aside a polo mallet,

And folded away playing fields and steeds.

وَالغُبارُ الَّذي عَلى صَفحَتَيها

دَوَرانُ الرَحى عَلى الأَجسادِ

And the dust upon its two faces

Is the millstone’s turning over bodies.

كُلُّ قَبرٍ مِن جانِبِ القَفرِ يَبدو

عَلَمَ الحَقِّ أَو مَنارَ المَعادِ

Every grave appearing at the edge of the wilderness

Is a landmark of truth or a beacon of resurrection,

وَزِمامُ الرِكابِ مِن كُلِّ فَجٍّ

وَمَحَطُّ الرِحالِ مِن كُلِّ وادي

And the rein of caravans from every mountain pass,

And the halting-place of saddles from every valley.

تَطلَعُ الشَمسُ حَيثُ تَطلَعُ نَضخاً

وَتَنَحّى كَمِنجَلِ الحَصّادِ

The sun rises, wherever it rises, in a gush,

And withdraws like the reaper’s sickle.

تِلكَ حَمراءُ في السَماءِ وَهَذا

أَعوَجُ النَصلِ مِن مِراسِ الجِلادِ

That one is red in the sky, and this one

Has a blade bent by the practice of combat.

لَيتَ شِعري تَعَمَّدا وَأَصَرّا

أَم أَعانا جِنايَةَ البِلادِ

Would that I knew: did they both act deliberately and persist,

Or aid the land’s crime?

كَذَبَ الأَزهَرانِ ما الأَمرُ إِلّا

قَدَرٌ رائِحٌ بِما شاءَ غادي

The two bright orbs have lied: this is nothing but

Fate, going at dusk and dawn with whatever it wills.

يا حَماماً تَرَنَّمَت مُسعِداتٍ

وَبِها فاقَةٌ إِلى الإِسعادِ

O doves, you have trilled to comfort others,

While you yourselves are in need of comfort.

ضاقَ عَن ثُكلِها البُكا فَتَغَنَّت

رُبَّ ثُكلٍ سَمِعتَهُ مِن شادي

Their bereavement was too great for weeping, so they sang;

Many a bereavement have you heard from a singer.

الأَناةَ الأَناةَ كُلُّ أَليفٍ

سابِقُ الإِلفِ أَو مُلاقي اِنفِرادِ

Patience, patience: every companion

Goes before its mate or encounters solitude.

هَل رَجَعتُنَّ في الحَياةِ لِفَهمٍ

إِنَّ فَهمَ الأُمورِ نِصفُ السَدادِ

Have you come to an understanding of life?

Indeed, understanding things is half of sound judgment.

سَقَمٌ مِن سَلامَةٍ وَعَزاءٌ

مِن هَناءٍ وَفُرقَةٌ مِن وِدادِ

Illness comes from health, and mourning

From happiness, and separation from love.

يُجتَنى شَهدُها عَلى إِبَرِ النَح

لِ وَيُمشى لِوِردِها في القَتادِ

Its honey is gathered upon the bees’ stings,

And one walks through thorn bushes to reach its water.

وَعَلى نائِمٍ وَسَهرانَ فيها

أَجَلٌ لا يَنامُ بِالمِرصادِ

And for sleeper and wakeful alike within it,

Death’s appointed hour lies sleepless in wait.

لُبَدٌ صادَهُ الرَدى وَأَظُنُّ ال

نَسرَ مِن سَهمِهِ عَلى ميعادِ

Death caught Lubad, and I think the

Eagle has an appointment with its arrow.

ساقَةَ النَعشِ بِالرَئيسِ رُوَيداً

مَوكِبُ المَوتِ مَوضِعُ الإِتِّئادِ

Bearers of the leader’s bier, go gently;

Death’s procession is a place for measured steps.

كُلُّ أَعوادِ مِنبَرٍ وَسَريرٍ

باطِلٌ غَيرَ هَذِهِ الأَعوادِ

All the timbers of pulpit and throne

Are vain, except for these timbers.

تَستَريحُ المَطِيُّ يَوماً وَهَذي

تَنقُلُ العالَمينَ مِن عَهدِ عادِ

Mounts rest one day, but these

Have borne humankind since the days of ʿAd.

لا وَراءَ الجِيادِ زيدَت جَلالاً

مُنذُ كانَت وَلا عَلى الأَجيادِ

Neither behind steeds have they gained in grandeur,

Since they first existed, nor upon necks.

أَسَأَلتُم حَقيبَةَ المَوتِ ماذا

تَحتَها مِن ذَخيرَةٍ وَعَتادِ

Have you asked Death’s saddlebag what

Treasure and equipment lie beneath it?

إِنَّ في طَيِّها إِمامَ صُفوفٍ

وَحَوارِيَّ نِيَّةٍ وَاِعتِقادِ

Within its folds is a leader of ranks,

And an apostle of purpose and conviction.

لَو تَرَكتُم لَها الزِمامَ لَجاءَت

وَحدَها بِالشَهيدِ دارَ الرَشادِ

Had you left the reins to it, it would have come

By itself, with the martyr, to the Abode of Right Guidance.

اِنظُروا هَل تَرَونَ في الجَمعِ مِصراً

حاسِراً قَد تَجَلَّلَت بِسَوادِ

Look: do you see Egypt amid the crowd,

Bareheaded, already cloaked in black?

تاجُ أَحرارِها غُلاماً وَكَهلاً

راعَها أَن تَراهُ في الأَصفادِ

The crown of her free men, in youth and middle age—

It horrified her to see him in fetters.

وَسِّدوهُ التُرابَ نِضوَ سِفارٍ

في سَبيلِ الحُقوقِ نِضوَ سُهادِ

Give him earth for a pillow, worn thin by travel

In the cause of rights, worn thin by sleeplessness.

وَاِركُزوهُ إِلى القِيامَةِ رُمحاً

كانَ لِلحَشدِ وَالنَدى وَالطِرادِ

And plant him until Resurrection as a spear

That served mustering, generosity, and jousting.

وَأَقِرّوهُ في الصَفائِحِ عَضباً

لَم يَدِن بِالقَرارِ في الأَغمادِ

And settle him among the stone slabs, a keen sword

That never submitted to resting in scabbards.

نازِحَ الدارِ أَقصَرَ اليَومَ بَينٌ

وَاِنتَهَت مِحنَةٌ وَكَفَّت عَوادي

O you far from home, separation has ceased today;

An ordeal has ended, and afflictions have ceased.

وَكَفى المَوتُ ما تَخافُ وَتَرجو

وَشَفى مِن أَصادِقٍ وَأَعادي

Death has spared you what you fear and hope for,

And cured you of friends and foes.

مَن دَنا أَو نَأى فَإِنَّ المَنايا

غايَةُ القُربِ أَو قُصارى البِعادِ

For whoever draws near or goes far, death

Is the end of nearness or the utmost of distance.

سِر مَعَ العُمرِ حَيثُ شِئتَ تَأوبا

وَاِفقُدِ العُمرَ لا تَأُب مِن رُقادِ

Journey with life wherever you wish: you will return;

Lose life, and you will not return from sleep.

ذَلِكَ الحَقُّ لا الَّذي زَعَموهُ

في قَديمٍ مِنَ الحَديثِ مُعادِ

That is true justice, not what they have claimed

In old, oft-repeated talk,

وَجَرى لَفظُهُ عَلى أَلسُنِ النا

سِ وَمَعناهُ في صُدورِ الصِعادِ

Whose wording has run upon the tongues of people,

While its meaning lies in the breasts of spears.

يَتَحَلّى بِهِ القَوِيُّ وَلَكِن

كَتَحَلّي القِتالِ بِاِسمِ الجِهادِ

The strong man adorns himself with it, but

As fighting adorns itself with the name of jihad.

هَل تَرى كَالتُرابِ أَحسَنَ عَدلاً

وَقِياماً عَلى حُقوقِ العِبادِ

Do you see anything as just as the earth,

And as steadfast in upholding people’s rights?

نَزَلَ الأَقوِياءُ فيهِ عَلى الضَع

فى وَحَلَّ المُلوكُ بِالزُهّادِ

Within it, the strong have lodged beside the weak,

And kings have dwelt beside ascetics.

صَفَحاتٌ نَقِيَّةٌ كَقُلوبِ ال

رُسلِ مَغسولَةٌ مِنَ الأَحقادِ

Pure pages, like the hearts of the

Messengers, washed clean of rancor.

قُم إِنِ اِسطَعتَ مِن سَريرِكَ وَاِنظُر

سِرَّ ذاكَ اللِواءِ وَالأَجنادِ

Rise from your bed, if you can, and see

The secret of that banner and those troops.

هَل تَراهُم وَأَنتَ موفٍ عَلَيهِم

غَيرَ بُنيانِ أُلفَةٍ وَاِتِّحادِ

Do you see them, as you look out over them,

As anything but an edifice of fellowship and unity?

أُمَّةٌ هُيِّأَت وَقَومٌ لِخَيرِ ال

دَهرِ أَو شَرِّهِ عَلى اِستِعدادِ

A nation made ready, and a people for the best of

Time or its worst, standing ready.

مِصرُ تَبكي عَلَيكَ في كُلِّ خِدرٍ

وَتَصوغُ الرِثاءَ في كُلِّ نادي

Egypt weeps for you in every woman’s chamber,

And composes elegies in every gathering-place.

لَو تَأَمَّلتَها لَراعَكَ مِنها

غُرَّةُ البِرِّ في سَوادِ الحِدادِ

If you contemplated her, you would be struck by

The white blaze of goodness in the blackness of mourning.

مُنتَهى ما بِهِ البِلادُ تُعَزّى

رَجُلٌ ماتَ في سَبيلِ البِلادِ

The greatest consolation the country can receive

Is a man who died in the country’s cause.

أُمَّهاتٌ لا تَحمِلُ الثُكلَ إِلّا

لِلنَجيبِ الجَريءِ في الأَولادِ

Mothers bear bereavement only

For the gifted and daring among their children.

كَفَريدٍ وَأَينَ ثاني فَريدٍ

أَيُّ ثانٍ لِواحِدِ الآحادِ

Like Farid—and where is a second Farid?

What second can there be for the unique among the unique?

الرَئيسِ الجَوادِ فيما عَلِمنا

وَبَلَونا وَاِبنِ الرَئيسِ الجَوادِ

The generous leader, as we knew

And learned firsthand, son of the generous leader.

أَكَلَت مالَهُ الحُقوقُ وَأَبلى

جِسمَهُ عائِدٌ مِنَ الهَمِّ عادي

Rights consumed his wealth, and worn away was

His body by a recurring, ravaging sorrow.

لَكَ في ذَلِكَ الضَنى رِقَّةُ الرو

حِ وَخَفقُ الفُؤادِ في العُوّادِ

For you in that wasting sickness, souls grew tender,

And hearts fluttered among your visitors.

عِلَّةٌ لَم تَصِل فِراشَكَ حَتّى

وَطِئَت في القُلوبِ وَالأَكبادِ

An illness that did not reach your bed until

It had trodden upon hearts and livers.

صادَفَت قُرحَةً يُلائِمُها الصَب

رُ وَتَأبى عَلَيهِ غَيرَ الفَسادِ

It found a sore that patience would heal,

Yet, despite patience, it insisted on decay.

وَعَدَ الدَهرُ أَن يَكونَ ضِماداً

لَكَ فيها فَكانَ شَرَّ ضِمادِ

Time promised to be a dressing

For your wound, but proved the worst of dressings.

وَإِذا الروحُ لَم تُنَفِّس عَنِ الجِس

مِ فَبُقراطُ نافِخٌ في رَمادِ

And if the soul brings no relief to the body,

Then Hippocrates blows into ashes.