لأسماء محتل بناظرة البشر — Akhtal

لِأَسماءَ مُحتَلٌّ بِناظِرَةِ البِشرِ

قَديمٌ وَلَمّا يَعفُهُ سالِفُ الدَهرِ

Asma has a dwelling-place at Nazirat al-Bishr,

ancient, not yet effaced by the passing of time.

يَكادُ مِنَ العِرفانِ يَضحَكُ رَسمُهُ

وَكَم مِن لَيالٍ لِلدِيارِ وَمِن شَهرِ

Its traces almost smile in recognition,

and how many nights these dwellings have seen, and months!

ظَلِلتُ بِها أَبكي إِلى اللَيلِ واقِفاً

أُسائِلُها أَينَ الأَنيسُ وَما تَدري

I remained there, standing and weeping until night,

asking them, "Where are the companions?"—but they do not know.

سَفاهاً وَقَد عُلِّقتُ مِن أُمِّ سالِمٍ

وَمِن جارَتَيها في فُؤادِيَ كَالجَمرِ

Foolishly—for I had become enamored of Umm Salim

and her two neighbors, like embers within my heart:

ثَلاثٍ حِسانٍ مِن نِزارٍ وَغَيرِهِم

تَجَمَّعنَ مِن شَتّى فَعولينَ في قَصرِ

three beauties, from Nizar and from others,

gathered from scattered places, then lodged high in a palace,

حَلائِلِ شَيخٍ في مُنيفٍ كَأَنَّما

نَماهُنَّ قِشعَمٌّ مِنَ الطَيرِ في وَكرِ

wives of an old man, in a lofty building, as though

an aged eagle had reared them in a nest.

وَما زِلتُ أُصبِهِنَّ بِالقَولِ وَالصِبا

سَفاهاً وَقَد يُصبى عَلى الخائِفِ الحَذرِ

I kept enticing them with words and youthful passion,

foolishly—yet even the fearful and wary can be beguiled—

كَعَطشانَ حَجَّ الماءَ حَتّى أَطاعَني

رَسولٌ إِلى لَعساءَ طَيِّبَةِ النَشرِ

like a thirsty man making for water, until I was obeyed

by a messenger to a dark-lipped woman of sweet fragrance.

لَها فَضلُ سِنٍّ فَاِستَقَدنَ إِلى الصِبا

فَأَمسَينَ قَد أَعطَينَها عُقَدَ الأَمرِ

She had the advantage of years; they yielded to passion,

and by evening had given her control of the affair.

وَأَعطَيتُهُنَّ العَهدَ غَيرَ مُمائِنٍ

وَما أَنزَلَ الأَروى مِنَ الجَبَلِ الوَعرِ

I gave them my pledge, without lying,

and assurances that would bring mountain goats down from the rugged mountain.

وَحَدَّثتُهُنَّ أَنَّني ذو أَمانَةٍ

كَريمٌ فَما يَخشَينَ خُلفي وَلا غَدري

I told them that I was trustworthy,

noble, so they feared neither my broken word nor my treachery.

فَقُمنَ إِلى جَبّانَةٍ قَد عَلِمنَها

لَنا أَثَرٌ فيها كَمَنزِلَةِ السَفرِ

Then they went to an open tract they knew;

we left a trace there, like a travelers' encampment.

فَثِنتانِ مَهما تُعطَيا تَرضَيا بِهِ

وَأَسماءُ ما تَرضى بِثُلثٍ وَلا شَطرِ

Two would be content with whatever they were given,

but Asma would accept neither a third nor a half.

وَما مَنَعَت أَسماءُ يَومَ رَحيلِنا

أَمَرُّ عَلَيَّ مِن خَطائي وَمِن وِزري

What Asma withheld on the day of our departure

was bitterer to me than my error and my burden of sin.

رَأَيتُ لَها يَوماً مِنَ الدَهرِ بَهجَةً

فَهَشَّت لَها نَفسي وَهَمَّ بِها صَدري

One day I saw in her a radiance,

and my soul rejoiced in it, and my breast yearned for her.

فَثَمَّ تَناهَينا كِلانا عَنِ الصِبا

وَلا شَيءَ خَيرٌ مِن تُقى اللَهِ وَالصَبرِ

There we both desisted from youthful passion,

and nothing is better than fear of God and patience.

سَبَتكَ بِمُرتَجِّ الرَوادِفِ ناعِمٍ

وَأَبيَضَ عَذبِ الريقِ مُعتَدِلِ الثَغرِ

She took you captive with soft, quivering hips,

and a fair face, sweet of saliva, with a well-shaped mouth,

وَمُتَّسِقٍ كَالنورِ مِن كُلِّ صِبغَةٍ

يُضيءُ الدُجى بَينَ التَرائِبِ وَالنَحرِ

and a well-strung necklace, like blossoms of every hue,

lighting the darkness between her upper breast and throat,

عَشِيَّةَ بَطنِ الشِعبِ إِذ أَهلُنا مَعاً

وَإِذ هِي تُريكَ الوَجهَ مِن خَلَلِ السِترِ

that evening in the ravine's hollow, when our people were together,

and when she showed you her face through gaps in the curtain.

نَزَلتُ بِها ضَيفاً فَلَم تَقرِ مَهنَأً

وَجادَت بِلا ثَعلِ الثَنايا وَلا حَفرِ

I lodged with her as a guest; she served no savory meal,

but freely offered a mouth with neither crowded incisors nor decay.

فَمِلتُ بِها مَيلَ النَزيفِ وَنازَعَت

رِدائِيَ وَالمَيسورِ خَيرٌ مِنَ العُسرِ

Then I swayed with her like a drunken man, while she tugged

at my cloak—and ease is better than hardship.

فَأَصبَحَ في آثارِنا وَمَبيتِنا

مَرافِضُ حَليٍ مِن جُمانٍ وَمِن شَذرِ

By morning, in our tracks and at our sleeping-place,

lay scattered ornaments of pearls and gold beads.

مَهاةٌ مِنَ اللائي إِذا هِيَ زُيِّنَت

تُضيءُ دُجى الظَلماءِ كَالقَمَرِ البَدرِ

A white oryx, one who, when adorned,

lights the depths of darkness like the full moon,

مُثَقَّلَةُ الأَردافِ لَيسَت بِمُرضِعٍ

وَلا مِن نِساءِ اللَخلَخانِيَّةِ الحُمرِ

heavy-hipped, no nursing mother,

nor one of the ruddy women with garbled foreign speech.

إِذا ما مَشَت مالَت رَوادِفُها بِها

جَميعاً كَما مالَ المَهيضُ مِنَ الكَسرِ

Whenever she walks, her hips sway with her,

all together, like a fractured limb bending at the break.

يَقولُ لِيَ الأَدنونَ مِنّي قَرابَةً

لَعَلَّكَ مَسحورٌ وَما بِيَ مِن سِحرِ

My closest kinsmen say to me,

"Perhaps you are bewitched"—yet I am under no spell.

فَقُلتُ أَقِلّوا اللَومَ لا تَعذُلونَني

هُبِلتُم هَلِ الصافي مِنَ الماءِ كَالكَدرِ

I said, "Lessen your blame; do not reproach me.

May you be bereaved! Is clear water like muddy water?"

سَرَيتُ إِلَيها إِذ دَجا اللَيلُ واحِداً

وَكَم مِن فَتىً قَد ضافَهُ الهَمُّ لا يَسري

I traveled to her alone when the night grew dark,

and many a youth whom care has visited does not travel by night.

فَجِئتُ بِتَخفيرِ الوَصيلِ وَشاعَني

أَخو الهَمِّ مِقدامٌ عَلى الهَولِ كَالصَقرِ

I came under a close companion's protection, and was escorted

by a brother of care, bold before terror like a falcon.

مَعي فِتيَةٌ ما يَسأَلونَ بِهالِكٍ

إِذا ما تَناشوا أَسبَلوا سَبَلَ الأُزرِ

With me were young men who never ask about one who has perished;

when they reach for the drink, they let their waistcloths' hems hang loose.

وَإِجّانَةٌ فيها الزُجاجُ كَأَنَّها

طَوافي بَناتِ الماءِ في لُجَّةِ البَحرِ

and a basin with glass cups in it, as though they were

waterbirds afloat on the open sea.