وجدت شفاء الهموم الرحيل — Al Murar Al Faqasi

وَجَدتَ شفاءَ الهُمومِ الرَّحيلَ

فَصُرمُ الخِلاجِ وَوَشكُ القَضاءِ

You found departure the cure for worries:

the severing of distractions and swift accomplishment.

وَإِثواؤُكَ الهَمَّ لَم تُمضِهِ

إِذا ضافَكَ الهَمُّ أَعنى العَناءِ

And your harboring grief without banishing it,

when grief visits you, is the weariest toil.

وَلماعَةٍ ما بِها مِنْ عِلامٍ

وَلا أَمراتٍ وَلا رِعي ماءِ

And many a shimmering waste, with no landmark,

nor waymarks, nor water-fed pasture,

كَأَنَّ قُلوبَ أَدلَّائِها

مُعَلَّقَةٌ بِقُرونِ الظِّباءِ

as though the hearts of its guides

were hung upon gazelles' horns.

يَظَلُّ الشُّجاعُ الشَّديدُ الجنانِ

مَخافَتَها مُعصِماً بِالدُّعاءِ

The brave man, stout of heart, spends the day

in dread of it, seeking protection in prayer.

إِذا نَظَرَ القَومُ ما مِيلُها

رَأى القَومُ دَوّيَةً كَالسَماءِ

When the party looks to gauge its extent,

the party sees a wilderness like the sky.

يُسِرُّ الدَليلُ بِها خيفَةً

وَما بِكَآبَتِهِ مِن خَفاءِ

The guide conceals his fear there,

but there is no hiding his dejection.

إِذا هُوَ أَنكَرَ أَسماءَها

وَعَيَّ وَحُقَّ لَهُ بِالعَياءِ

When he fails to recognize its place-names

and is bewildered—as well he may be—

وَخَلَّى الرِّكابَ وَأَهوالَها

وَأَسلَمَهُنَّ لِتيهٍ قَواءِ

and abandons the riding camels to their terrors,

surrendering them to a desolate wilderness,

لَهُ نَظرَتانِ فَمَرفوعَةٌ

وَأُخرى تَأَمَّلُ ما في السِّقاءِ

he casts two looks: one raised upward,

another examining what is in the waterskin;

وَثالِثَةٌ بِعدَ طولِ الصُّماتِ

إِلَيَّ وَفي صَوتِهِ كَالبُكاءِ

and a third, after a long silence,

toward me, with something like weeping in his voice,

بِأَرضٍ عَلاها وَلَم أَعْلُها

لِتُخرِجَهُ هِمَّتي أَو مَضائي

in land he has crossed before, though I have not,

hoping my resolve or boldness will bring him out.

فَقُلتُ التَزِم عَنكَ ظَهرَ البَعيرِ

جَزى اللَّهُ مِثلَكَ شَرَّ الجَزاءِ

So I said: For your part, cling to the camel's back!

May God repay your like with the worst reward!

أُحيدى هَناتي وَأَمثالها

إِذا لَمَعَ البَرقُ لمعَ الرِّداءِ

One small trial of mine, and others like it,

when lightning gleams as a cloak gleams.

وَلَيسَ بِها غَيرُ أَمرٍ زَميعٍ

وَغَيرُ التَوَكُّلِ ثُمَّ النَّجاءِ

There is no recourse there but firm resolve,

and trust, and then a swift escape.

رَمَيتُ وَأَيقَظتُ غِزلانَها

بِمِثلِ السّكارى مِن الإِنطِواءِ

I plunged in and roused its gazelles

on mounts like drunkards from their leanness.

تَساوَرُ حَدّ الضُّحى بَعدَما

طَوَت لَيلَها مِثلَ طَيِّ الرِّداءِ

They brave the sharp heat of forenoon, after

folding away their night as a cloak is folded.

تعادي نَواحِيَ من قَبصِها

عَنِ المَروِ تخضبُهُ بِالدِّماءِ

They draw the edges of their hooves away

from the flint, staining it with blood.

كَأَنَّ الحَصا حينَ يَترُكنَهُ

رَضيخُ نَدى القَسبِ بَينَ الصّلاءِ

As though the pebbles, when they leave them,

were crushed, moist dates amid the fires,

إِلى أَن تنعلَ أَظلالَها

وَلَم يَعلُ أَظلالها بِالحِذاءِ

until they wear their shadows as sandals,

though none has covered their shadows with shoes.

وَيَومٍ مِنَ النَّجمِ مُستَوقِدٍ

يَسوقُ إِلى المَوتِ نورَ الظِّباءِ

And many a blazing day of the Pleiades,

driving the shy gazelles toward death:

تَراها تَدورُ بِغيرانِها

ويَهجُمها بارِحٌ ذو عَماءِ

you see them circling about their caves,

while a hot wind bearing blinding dust assails them,

عَكوفَ النَّصارى إِلى عيدِها

تَمشّى دَهاقينُها في المُلاءِ

like Christians gathered in devotion at their feast,

their notables walking in mantles.

إِذا خَرَجَت تَتقي بِالقُرونِ

أجيجَ سُمومٍ كَلَفحِ الصِّلاءِ

When they emerge, they shield themselves with their horns

from a scorching wind's blaze, like the blast of fire.

لَجَأتُ بِصَحبي إِلى خافِقٍ

عَلى نبقَتَينِ بِأَرضِ فَضاءِ

I sought shelter with my companions beneath a fluttering awning,

set upon two lote-trees in open ground.

تَنازَعنا الرِّيحُ أَرواقه

وَكَسريهِ يَرمَحنَ رُمحَ الفِلاءِ

The wind wrestled with us over its curtains,

and its two side-flaps kicked like foals.

وَبَيضاءَ تَنْفَلُّ عَنها العُيونُ

تُطالِعُنا مِن وَراءِ الخباءِ

And a white sun, from which eyes recoil,

peered at us from beyond the tent,

لَدى أَرحُلٍ وَلَدى أَينُقٍ

بِآباطِها كَعَصيمِ الهناءِ

beside saddles and beside she-camels,

with crusts like dried tar beneath their forelegs.

صَوادي قَد نَصَبَت لِلهَجيرِ

جَماجِمَ مِثلَ خَوابي الطِّلاءِ

Thirst-parched, they had raised to the midday heat

skulls like jars of thickened wine.

تظللُ فيهن أَبصارُهُن

كَما ظَلَّلَ الصَّخرُ ماءَ الصِّهاءِ

Their eyes lay shaded within them,

as rock shades the water of rock-pools

بِرَأسِ الفَلاةِ وَلَم يَنحَدِرْ

وَلَكِنَّها بِمَثابٍ سَواءِ

at the desert's crest, where it has not flowed down;

rather, the pools lie in a level catchment.

إِلى أَن مَللتُ ثَواءَ المَقيلِ

وَكُنتُ مَلولاً لِطولِ الثَّواءِ

Until I tired of lingering at the midday halt—

and I was easily wearied by a lengthy stay.

هَتَكتُ الرواقَ وَلَم يُبرِدُوا

وَنادَيتُ فَاِنتَبِهوا لِلنِّداءِ

I tore aside the awning before the cool hours came,

and called out: Rouse yourselves at the summons!

فَقُمتُ إِلَيها بِأَكوارِها

فَكادَتْ تُكَلِّمُنا بِاِشتِكاءِ

Then I went over to them with their pack-saddles,

and they nearly spoke to us in complaint.

فَأَقبلها الشَّمسَ راع لَها

رَهينٌ لَها بِجَفاءِ العَشاءِ

A herdsman of theirs turned them toward the sun,

pledged to their care, forgoing his supper.

فَأَمسَت تُغالي وَقَد شارَفَتْ

لايرادِ قائِلَةٍ أَو ضَحاءِ

By evening they raced on, already nearing

a watering at noon or in the forenoon.

إِذا ما وَنَتْ حَثَّها بِالنَّهيمِ

وَطَوراً يُعَلِّلُها بِالحُداءِ

Whenever they flag, he urges them with driving cries,

and sometimes cheers them with camel-song.

فَباتَتْ لَها لَيلَة لَم تَنَم

تَميلُ الجرومُ بِها لِلوَطاءِ

They passed a night without sleeping,

the riders' bodies drooping toward soft bedding.

وَضحوتها يا لَها ضَحوَةً

إِلى أَن وَرَدنَ قُبَيلَ الرِّعاءِ

And their forenoon—what a forenoon!—

until they reached water just before the herdsmen.

فَجاءَت وَرُكبانُها كَالشروبِ

وَسائِقُها مِثلُ صنعِ الشّواءِ

They arrived, their riders like drunkards,

and their driver like a roaster's handiwork:

حَميدَ البَلاءِ مَتينَ القُوى

مُبينَ البراءَةِ مِن كُلِّ داءِ

praiseworthy in trial, firm in strength,

plainly free of every ailment,

سوى ما أَصابَ السرى وَالسمو

مُ وَلَيسَ بِناسٍ جميلَ الحَياءِ

save the harm of night travel and the scorching

wind; nor is he forgetful of gracious modesty.

إِذا صدرَ القَومُ ناجٍ بِهِم

إِذا وَرَدَ القَومُ مَسقى الرِّواءِ

When the party leaves water, he speeds away with them;

when the party reaches a watering-place of full draughts,

سَريعٌ إِراغَتُهُ دَلوَهُم

سَريعٌ تعلقه بِالرُّشاءِ

swift is his fetching of their bucket,

swift his grasp upon the well-rope.

وَجاءَ الدَّليلُ لِشَرِّ المَتاعِ

مُعَلّى بِهِ مِثلُ حَملِ الوِعاءِ

The guide came along as the worst of baggage,

hoisted up like a sack being carried.

فَقالَت عَلى الماءِ ثُمَّ اِنتَحَت

لِمُنجَرِدٍ مِثل سَيْحِ العَباءِ

They rested by the water at noon, then headed

toward a bare tract like a striped woollen cloak:

وَخيم تخونَ أَطرافَها

تراجعُهُ بَعدَ سوءِ البَلاءِ

perilous, it had worn away their extremities;

they revisited it after a grievous ordeal.

وَواجَهَها بَلَدٌ مَعلَمٌ

وَبانَ الطَّريقُ فَما مِن خَفاءِ

And landmarked country lay before them,

and the road stood clear, with nothing hidden.

وَقَضَّت مَآرِبَ أَسفارِها

وَحُبُّ الإِيابِ كَحُبِّ الشّفاءِ

They fulfilled the purposes of their journeys,

and love of homecoming is like love of healing.