يا موقد النار بالهندي والغار — Al Abas Ibn Al Ahnaf

يا مُوقِدَ النارِ بِالهِندِيِّ وَالغارِ

هَيَّجتَ لي حَزَناً يا مُوقِدَ النارِ

O kindler of the fire with Indian aloeswood and laurel,

you have stirred sorrow in me, O kindler of the fire.

بَينَ الرُصافَةِ وَالمَيدانِ أَرقُبُها

شُبَّت لِغانِيَةٍ بَيضاءَ مِعطارِ

Between al-Rusafa and al-Maydan I watch it,

kindled for a fair-skinned, richly perfumed beauty.

هاجَت لِيَ الرِيحُ مِنها نَفخَ رائِحَةٍ

أَحيَت عِظامي وَهاجَت طولَ تِذكاري

The wind stirred for me a waft of fragrance from it,

reviving my bones and awakening my long remembrance.

يا فَوزُ أَنتِ الَّتي جَشَّمتِني رَقَصاً

يَبري المَهاري بِتَرحالٍ وَتَسيارِ

O Fawz, you are the one who made me endure a camel-trot

that wears Mahri camels thin with journeying and travel.

غِبتُم وَغِبنا فَلَمّا كانَ أَوبُكُمُ

أُبنا فَنَحنُ وَأَنتُم رَهنُ أَسفارِ

You went away, and so did we; when you returned,

we returned too: we and you are captives of journeys.

وَما أَرى اِثنَينِ حَالَ الناسُ بَينَهُما

مِثلي وَمِثلَكِ في جَهدٍ وَإِضرارِ

I see no two whom people have kept apart

like you and me in hardship and distress.

تَشكو الفِرَاقَ وَيَشكوهُ وَما اِجتَمَعا

يَوماً وَلا اِفتَرَقا إِلاّ بِمِقدارِ

She laments separation, and he laments it; never have they met

or parted, on any day, save as fate decreed.

وَما يُرى في وِصالِ اِثنَينِ قَد شُغِفا

ما لَم يَميلا إِلى الفَحشاءِ مِن عارِ

There is no shame in the union of two possessed by love,

so long as they do not turn toward indecency.

إِذا تَعَمَّدتُكُم جاوَزتُ بابَكُمُ

كَي لا تَكونُوا لإِقبالي وَإِدباري

When I make for you, I pass beyond your door,

so you will not seem the reason for my coming and going.

أُخَبِّرُ الناسَ أَنّي قَد سَلَوتُكُمُ

وَاللَهُ يَعلَمُ ما مَكنونُ إِضمارِ

I tell people that I have ceased to pine for you,

but God knows what lies hidden in my secret thoughts.

ما تَطعَمُ النَومَ عَيني مِن تَذَكُّرِكُم

فَما أَنامُ إِذا ما نامَ سُمّاري

My eye tastes no sleep for remembering you,

so I do not sleep when my night companions sleep.

أَخلُو إِذا هَجَعَ النُوّامُ كُلُهُمُ

فَما أُسامِرُ إِلاّ عامِرَ الدارِ

I am alone when all the sleepers have gone to rest,

and keep night company with none but the house's resident spirit.

لِكُلِّ جَفنٍ عَلى خَدّي عَلى حِدَةٍ

طَريقَةٌ دَمعُها مُستَوكِفٌ جارِ

Each eyelid has, separately upon my cheek,

a track, its tears dripping and flowing.

أَستَمطِرُ العَينَ لا تَفنى مَدامِعُها

كَأَنَّ يَنبوعَ بَحرٍ بَينَ أَشفاري

I summon rain from my eye; its tears never run dry,

as though a sea's wellspring lay between my lashes.

لَيتَ المُهَذَّبَ عَبدَاللَهُ خالِصَتي

وَمَن لَدَيهِ مِنَ الإِخوانِ حُضّاري

Would that refined Abdullah, my trusted friend,

and the brothers with him were here beside me:

مِنهُم حُمَيدٌ وَداودٌ وَصاحِبُهُ

وَالأَخنَسِيُّ وَبِشرٌ وَاِبنُ سَيّارِ

among them Humayd, Dawud and his companion,

and al-Akhnasi, Bishr and Ibn Sayyar.

قَومٌ هُمُ خَندَقُوا لي في قُلوبِهِمُ

عَلى الحُصونِ فَأَخلَوهَا لِأَسراري

Men who dug moats for me within their hearts,

around strongholds, then reserved them for my secrets.

مَن كانَ لَم يَرَ مَشغوفاً بَراهُ هَوىً

فَليَأتِني يَرَ نِضواً عَظمُهُ عارِ

Whoever has never seen a love-struck man wasted by passion,

let him come to me and see a wasted frame, its bones laid bare.

يَنسَلُّ عَنّي قَمِيصي مِن ضَنى جَسَدي

وَلَو شَدَدتُ عَلى الجِلبابِ أَزراري

My shirt slips off me, so wasted is my body,

even if I fasten the buttons on my outer robe.

ما يَنقَضي عَجَبي مِن جَهلِ حاسِدَةٍ

كانَت بِذي الأَثلِ مِن خِدني وَأَنصاري

My wonder never ends at the folly of an envious woman,

who, at Dhu al-Athl, was among my intimates and supporters.

سَمَّت وَليدَتَها فَوزاً مُغايَظَةً

عَذَرتُ لَو لَطَمَتني ذاتُ إِسوارِ

She named her slave girl Fawz to spite me;

had a bracelet-wearer slapped me, I would have forgiven her.

وَما يَزالُ نِساءٌ مِن قَرابَتِها

مِن كُلِّ ناحِيَةٍ يَهتِكَنَ أَستاري

And women among her kin keep on,

from every quarter, tearing away my veils.

وَقَد صَبَرتُ عَلى قَومٍ مُنيتُ بِهم

وَما تَكَلَّمتُ إِلّا بَعدَ إِعذارِ

I have endured people with whom I have been afflicted,

and I spoke only after giving due warning.

أَنا وَعَمُّكِ مِثلُ المُهرِ يَمنَعُهُ

مِن قوتِهِ مَربِضُ المُستَأسِدِ الضاري

With your uncle, I am like a colt kept

from its fodder by the lair of a ravening lion.

لَو كُنتَ يا عَمَّها حَرّانَ سَرَّكَ أَن

تَحيا بِإِظماءِ إيرادٍ وَإِصدارِ

If you were parched, O her uncle, you would be glad

to live through thirsty spells, brought to water and led away.

فَما أَخو سَفَرٍ في البيد مُرتَهَنٍ

قَد كانَ في رُفَقٍ شَتّى لِأَمصارِ

For no traveler held captive in the wastes—

who had traveled in various companies bound for cities,

أَخطا الطَريقَ وَأَفنى الزادَ وَاِنقَطَعَت

عَنهُ المَناهِلُ في تَيهاءِ مِقفارِ

missed the road, exhausted his provisions, and found

the watering places cut off from him in a barren wilderness,

يَدعو بِصَوتِ شَجِيٍّ لا أَنيسَ لَهُ

قَد غابَ عَنهُ أَنيسُ الأَهلِ وَالجارِ

calling out in a plaintive voice with no companion,

the company of family and neighbor far away—

لَو جُرِّعَ الماءَ لَاِستَطفَاهُ مَوقِعُهُ

مِنَ الحَشى مِن لَظىً فيهِ وَتَسعارِ

were water poured down his throat, its resting-place would beg it to quench

the flame and raging heat deep within his belly—

حَتّى أَتى الماءَ بَعدَ اليَأسِ تُحرِزُهُ

رَبداءُ مَكسُوَّةٌ أَطواقَ أَحجارِ

until, after despair, he reached water held within

a dusky well clad in rings of stone;

لَمّا تَبَيَّنَ أَن لا دَلوَ حاضِرَةٌ

وَلا رِشاءٌ وَلا عَهدٌ لِآثارِ

when he realized no bucket was at hand,

nor rope, nor any sign of recent tracks,

دَلّى عِمامَتَهُ حَتّى إِذا اِنقَشَعَت

غَمامَةٌ الماءِ عَن عَذبٍ وَمَوّارِ

he lowered his turban until there lifted

the water's clouded veil, revealing sweet, surging water,

أَهوى يُقَلِّبُها في الماءِ مُغتَبِطاً

يَكُرُّها فيهِ طَوراً بَعدَ أَطوارِ

he bent down, turning it in the water in delight,

returning it to the water time after time,

حَتّى إِذا هُوَ رَوّاها وَأَخرَجَها

وَقالَ قَد نِلتُ يُسراً بَعدَ إِعسارِ

until, when he had soaked it through and lifted it out,

and said, 'I have found ease after hardship,'

وَجَرَّها صَوَّبَت في البِئرِ راجِعَةً

وَاِستَقبَلَت نَفسُهُ الدُنيا بِإِكشارِ

and pulled at it, it slipped back down into the well,

and his soul faced the world with bared teeth—

يَوماً بِأَجهَدَ مِنّي حينَ تَمنَعُني

لِغَيرِ جُرمٍ لُباناتي وَأَوطاري

was ever more sorely tried than I when you deny me,

for no offense, my longings and desires.