أقيموا بني أمي صدور مطيكم — Al Shanfari

أَقيموا بَني أُمّي صُدورَ مَطِيَّكُم

فَإِنّي إِلى قَومٍ سِواكُم لأمْيَلُ

Set straight your mounts' breasts, sons of my mother,

for I am more inclined toward a people other than you.

فَقَد حُمَّت الحاجاتُ واللَيلُ مُقمِرٌ

وَشُدَّت لِطِيّاتٍ مَطايا وَأَرُحلُ

Needs have been settled, and the night is moonlit,

and mounts and saddles are strapped for journeys.

وَفي الأَرضِ مَنأى لِلكَريمِ عَنِ الأَذى

وَفيها لِمَن خافَ القِلى مُتَعَزَّلُ

On earth the noble have a refuge from harm,

and those who fear hatred have a place apart.

لَعَمرُكَ ما في الأَرضِ ضيقٌ عَلى اِمرئٍ

سَرى راغِباً أَو راهِباً وَهوَ يَعقِلُ

By your life, the earth is not too narrow for a man

who travels by night, seeking or fearing, with his wits about him.

وَلي دونَكُم أَهلَونَ سيدٌ عَمَلَّسٌ

وَأَرقَطُ زُهلولٌ وَعَرفاءُ جَيأَلُ

In your stead I have kin: a swift, sturdy wolf,

a sleek, spotted leopard, and a long-maned hyena.

هُمُ الرَهطُ لا مُستَودَعُ السِرَّ ذائِعٌ

لَدَيهِم وَلا الجاني بِما جَرَّ يُخذَلُ

They are the clan: no entrusted secret is divulged

among them, nor is the offender abandoned for what he has done.

وَكُلٌّ أَبِيٌّ باسِلٌ غَيرَ أَننَّي

إِذا عَرَضَت أُولى الطَرائِدِ أَبسَلُ

Each is proud and brave, except that I,

when the first quarry appears, am the bravest.

وَإِن مُدَّتِ الأَيدي إِلى الزادِ لَم أَكنُ

بِأَعجَلِهِم إِذ أَجشَعُ القَومِ أَعجَلُ

And when hands reach toward provisions, I am not

the quickest, for the greediest of the company is quickest.

وَما ذاكَ إِلاّ بَسطَةٌ عَن تَفَضُّلٍ

عَلَيهِم وَكانَ الأَفضَلَ المُتَفَضَّلُ

That is only openhandedness, born of generosity

toward them; the generous giver has ever been the better man.

وَلي صاحِبٌ من دونِهم لا يَخونني

إِذا التبسَت كفِّي بِهِ يَتَأكّلُ

I have another companion besides them, who does not betray me;

when my palm clasps it, it flashes keenly.

وَإِنّي كَفانِي فَقدُ مَن لَيسَ جازِياً

بِحُسنى وَلا في قُربٍه مُتَعَلَّلُ

And I am compensated for the loss of one who does not repay

with kindness, nor offers solace in his company,

ثَلاثَةُ أَصحابٍ فُؤادٌ مُشَيَّعٌ

وَأَبيَضُ إِصليتٌ وَصَفراءُ عَيطَلُ

by three companions: a dauntless heart,

a white, keen blade, and a long yellow bow.

هَتوفٌ مِنَ المُلسِ المُتونِ يَزينُها

رَصائِعُ قَد نيطَت إلَيها وَمِحمَلُ

A resonant bow, smooth-backed, adorned

with ornaments fastened to it and a carrying strap.

إِذا زَلَّ عَنها السَهمُ حَنَّت كَأَنَّها

مُرَزَّأَةٌ عَجلى تُرِنُّ وَتُعوِلُ

When the arrow slips from it, it moans as though it were

a bereaved woman, anguished, crying out and wailing.

وَأَغدو خميصَ البَطنِ لا يَستَفِزُّني

إِلى الزاد حِرصٌ أَو فُؤادٌ مُوَكّلُ

I set out at dawn, hollow-bellied; I am not driven

toward food by greed or a heart obsessed with it.

وَلَستُ بِمِهيافٍ يُعَشّي سَوامَهُ

مُجَدَّعَةً سُقبانَها وَهيَ بُهَّلُ

And I am no thirst-prone man who pastures his herd at dusk,

its calves stunted though the mothers' udders are unbound.

وَلا جَبأَ أَكهى مُرِبٍّ بِعِرسِهِ

يُطالِعُها في شَأنِهِ كَيفَ يَفعَلُ

Nor a weak-willed coward, clinging to his wife,

consulting her about how to act in his affairs.

وَلا خَرِقٍ هَيقٍ كَأَنَّ فُؤادَهُ

يَظَلُّ بِهِ المُكَّاءُ يَعلو وَيَسفِلُ

Nor an ostrich-like fool whose heart seems

to hold a whistling lark forever rising and falling.

وَلا خالِفٍ دارِيَّةٍ مُتَغَزَّلٍ

يَروحُ وَيَغدو داهِناً يَتَكَحَّلُ

Nor a stay-at-home laggard, a dallier,

going out evening and morning, oiled and wearing kohl.

وَلَستُ بِعَلٍّ شَرُّهُ دونَ خَيرِهِ

أَلَفَّ إِذا ما رُعتَهُ اِهتاجَ أَعزَلُ

And I am no scrawny weakling whose evil comes before his good,

clumsy, flying into a frenzy unarmed whenever you frighten him.

وَلَستُ بِمِحيارِ الظَلامِ إِذا اِنتَحَت

هُدى الهَوجِل العِسّيفِ يَهماءُ هَوجَلُ

Nor am I bewildered in darkness when there confronts

a heedless wanderer's course a vast, trackless waste.

إِذا الأَمَعزُ الصُوّانُ لاقى مَناسِمي

تَطايَرَ مِنهُ قادِحٌ وَمُفَلَّلُ

When flinty, stony ground meets my footpads,

spark-striking chips and shattered shards fly from it.

أَديمُ مِطالَ الجوعِ حَتّى أُميتَهُ

وَأَضرِبُ عَنهُ الذِكرَ صَفحاً فَأَذهَلُ

I keep hunger waiting until I kill it,

and dismiss all thought of it, turning aside until I forget.

وَأَستَفُّ تُربَ الأَرضِ كَيلا يَرى لَهُ

عَلَيَّ مِنَ الطَولِ اِمُرؤ مُتَطَوَّلُ

I swallow the earth's dust, lest a man claim

a favor over me by flaunting his bounty.

وَلَولا اجتِنابُ الذَأم لَم يُلفَ مَشرَبٌ

يُعاشُ بِهِ إِلّا لَدَيَّ وَمَأكَلُ

Were it not that I shun disgrace, no drink

or food that sustains life would be found except with me.

وَلَكِنَّ نَفساً مُرَّةً لا تُقيمُ بي

عَلى الذَأمِ إِلّا رَيثما أَتَحَوَّلُ

But a fierce soul will not keep me

in disgrace, save until I can move away.

وَاَطوي عَلى الخُمصِ الحَوايا كَما اِنطَوَت

خُيوطَةُ مارِيٍّ تُغارُ وَتُفتَلُ

I fold my entrails around hunger, as are folded

the threads of Mārī, tightened and twisted.

وَأَغدو عَلى القوتِ الزَهيدِ كَما غَدَا

أَزَلُّ تَهاداهُ التَنائِفُ أَطحَلُ

I set out on scant sustenance, just as sets out

a lean, dust-gray wolf, passed from waste to waste.

غَدا طاوِياً يُعارِضُ الريحَ هافِياً

يَخوتُ بِأَذنابِ الشِعابِ وَيَعسَلُ

He sets out hungry, ranging against the wind, rushing,

darting through the ends of ravines and loping.

فَلَمّا لَواهُ القوتُ مِن حَيثُ أَمَّهُ

دَعا فَأَجابَتهُ نَظائِرُ نُحَّلُ

Then, when food puts him off where he sought it,

he calls, and gaunt counterparts answer him.

مُهَلهَةٌ شِيبُ الوُجوهِ كَأَنَّها

قِداحٌ بِكَفَّي ياسِرٍ تَتَقَلقَلُ

Wasted, gray-faced, as though they were

lot-arrows rattling in a gambler's two hands,

أَو الخَشرَمُ المَبعوثُ حَثحَثَ دَبرَهُ

مَحابيضُ أَرداهُنَّ سامٍ مُعَسَّلُ

or a roused bee-swarm, its bees stirred up

by poking-sticks lowered by a climbing honey-gatherer.

مُهَرَّتَهٌ فوهٌ كَأَنَّ شُدوقَها

شُقوقُ العِصِيَّ كَالِحاتٌ وَبُسلُ

Wide-mouthed, gaping, as though their jaws were

splits in sticks, teeth bared and fierce.

فَضَجَّ وَضَجَّت بِالبَراح كَأَنَّها

وَإِيّاه نوحٌ فَوقَ عَلياءَ ثُكَّلُ

He howls, and they howl in the open, as though they

and he were bereaved women wailing on a hilltop.

وَأَغضى وَأَغضَت وَاِتَّسى وَاِتَّسَت بِهِ

مَراميلُ عَزّاها وَعَزَّتهُ مُرمِلُ

He lowers his eyes, and they lower theirs; he takes comfort, and they in him:

famished ones he consoles, who console him, famished too.

شَكا وَشَكَت ثُمَّ اِرعَوى بَعدُ وَاِرعَوَت

وَلَلصَّبرُ إِن لَم يَنفَع الشَكوُ أَجمَلُ

He complains, and they complain; then he desists, and they desist.

Surely patience, when complaint does not help, is nobler.

وَفاءَ وَفاءَت بادِراتٌ وَكُلُّهَا

عَلى نَكَظٍ مِمّا يُكاتِمُ مُجمِلُ

He turns back, and they turn back hastily; each,

despite the anguish he conceals, bears it with dignity.

وَتَشرِبُ أَسآرِيَ القَطا الكُدرُ بَعدَما

سَرَت قَرَباً أَحناؤُها تَتَصَلصَلُ

The dusky sandgrouse drink what I leave behind, after

their night journey toward water, their insides rattling.

هَمَمتُ وَهَمَّت وَاِبتَدَرنا وَأَسدَلَت

وَشَمَّرَ مِنّي فارِطٌ مُتَمَهَّلُ

I resolve and they resolve; we race, and they lower their wings,

while I speed ahead as an unhurried outrider.

فَوَلَّيتُ عَنها وَهَي تَكبو لِعَقرِهِ

يُباشِرُهُ مِنها ذُقونٌ وَحَوصَلُ

Then I turn away from them as they stumble to its basin,

their chins and crops touching it.

كَأَنَ وَغاها حَجرَتَيهِ وَحَولَهُ

أَضاميمُ مِن سِفرِ القَبائِلِ نُزَّلُ

Their clamoring at its two sides and around it seems

like clustered travelers of tribes, camping there.

تَوافَينَ مِن شَتّى إِلَيهِ فَضَمَّها

كَما ضَمَّ أَذوادَ الأَصاريمِ مَنهَلُ

They converge on it from scattered places, and it gathers them,

as a watering place gathers the small camel-herds of scattered clans.

فَعَبَّت غِشاشاً ثُمَّ مَرَّت كَأَنَّها

مَعَ الصُبحِ رَكبٌ مِن أُحاضَةَ مُجفِلُ

They gulp hurriedly, then pass on, as though they were

at dawn a caravan from Uḥāḍa, hurrying away.

وَآلَفَ وَجهَ الأَرضِ عِندَ افتِراشِها

بِأَهدَأ تُنبيهِ سَناسِنُ قُحَّلُ

Earth's face grows familiar to me when I take it as bedding,

on a sloping shoulder raised by dry spinal knobs.

وَأَعدِلُ مَنحوضاً كَأَنَّ فُصوصَهُ

كِعابٌ دَحاها لاعِبٌ فَهيَ مُثَّلُ

I shift a fleshless hip, its joint-knobs like

knucklebones cast by a player, standing upright.

فَإِن تَبتَئِس بِالشَنفَرى أُمُّ قَسطَلٍ

لَما اِغتَبَطَت بِالشَنفَرى قَبلُ أَطوَلُ

If Umm Qasṭal—the Mother of Dust—grieves for al-Shanfarā,

surely her earlier joy in al-Shanfarā lasted longer.

طَريدُ جِناياتٍ تَياسَرنَ لَحمَهُ

عَقيرَتُهُ لأَيَّها حُمَّ أَوَّلُ

An outlaw whose offenses cast lots for his flesh,

his slain body the prize of whichever is decreed first.

تَنامُ إِذا ما نامَ يَقظى عُيونُها

حِثاثاً إِلى مَكروهِهِ تَتَغَلغَلُ

They sleep when he sleeps, yet their eyes stay wakeful,

swiftly burrowing toward his ruin.

وَإِلفُ هُمومٍ ما تَزالُ تَعودُهُ

عِياداً كَحُمّى الرَبعِ أَو هِيَ أَثقَلُ

A companion of worries that never cease revisiting him,

in recurring visits like quartan fever—or more burdensome still.

إِذا وَرَدت أَصدَرتُها ثُمَّ إِنَّها

تَثوبُ فَتَأتي مِن تُحَيتٍ وَمِن عَلُ

When they come to water, I drive them away; then they

return, coming from below and from above.

فَإِمّا تَرَيني كَاِبنَةِ الرَملِ ضاحِياً

عَلى رِقَّةٍ أَحفى وَلا أَتَنَعَّلُ

If you see me like the daughter of the sand, exposed to the sun,

in poverty, barefoot, wearing no sandals,

فَإِنّي لَمَولى الصَبرِ أَجتابُ بَزَّهُ

عَلى مِثلِ قَلبِ السِمعِ وَالحَزمَ أَفعَلُ

I am indeed patience's ally, donning its garment,

with a heart like the simʿ's, acting with firm resolve.

وَأُعدِمُ أَحياناً وَأَغنى وَإِنَّما

يَنالُ الغِنى ذو البُعَدةِ المُتَبَذَّلُ

I am sometimes penniless and sometimes wealthy; only

the man of far-reaching purpose who spends himself gains wealth.

فَلا جَزعٌ مِن خَلَّةٍ مُتَكَثَّفٌ

وَلا مَرحٌ تَحتَ الغِنى أَتَخَيَّلُ

I do not cower in panic at poverty,

nor, exulting in wealth, do I strut.

وَلا تَزدَهي الأَجهالُ حِلمي وَلا أَرى

سِؤولاً بِأعقابِ الأَقاويلِ أَنمُلُ

Ignorant folly does not overwhelm my composure, nor am I seen

prying on the heels of tales, spreading gossip.

وَلَيلَةِ نَحسٍ يَصطَلِيَ القَوسَ رَبُّها

وَأَقطُعَهُ اللاتي بِها يَتَنَبَّلُ

And on an ill-omened night, when a bow's owner burns it for warmth,

along with the arrow-shafts with which he shoots,

دَعَستُ عَلى غَطشٍ وَبَغشٍ وَصُحبَتي

سُعارٌ وَإِرزيزٌ وَوَجرٌ وَأَفكُلُ

I trod through murk and drizzle, my companions

raging hunger, bitter cold, fear, and shivering.

فَأَيَّمتُ نِسواناً وَأَيتَمتُ آلَدَةً

وَعُدتُ كَما أَبدَأتُ وَاللَيلُ أَليَلُ

I widowed women and orphaned children,

and returned as I had set out, the night intensely dark.

وَأَصبَحَ عني بِالغُمَيصاءِ جالِساً

فَريقانِ مَسؤولٌ وَآخَرُ يَسأَلُ

At dawn there sat at al-Ghumayṣāʾ, discussing me,

two groups: one questioned, the other asking.

فَقالوا لَقَد هَرَّت بِلَيلٍ كِلابُنَا

فَقُلنا أَذِئُبٌ عَسَّ أَم عَسَّ فُرغُلُ

They said, “Our dogs growled in the night,

so we said: ‘Did a wolf prowl, or a young hyena?’

فَلَم تَكُ إِلّا نَبأَةً ثُمَّ هَوَّمَت

فَقُلنا قَطاةٌ ريعَ أَم رِيَعَ أَجدَلُ

There was only a faint sound; then they dozed,

so we said: ‘Was a sandgrouse startled, or a falcon?’

فَإِن يَكُ مِن جِنٍّ لَأَبَرحُ طارِقاً

وَإِن يَكُ أُنساً ماكَها الأُنسُ تَفعَلُ

If it was a jinn, it was a most fearsome night-visitor;

and if it was human, humans do not act like this.”

وَيَومٍ مِنَ الشِعرى يَذوبُ لَوابُهُ

أَفاعيهِ في رَمضائِهِ تَتَمَلمَلُ

And a day under Sirius, its heat-haze melting,

its vipers writhing on its scorching ground:

نَصَبتُ لَهُ وَجهي وَلا كِنَّ دونَهُ

وَلا سِترَ إِلّا الأَتُحَمِيَ المُرَعبَلُ

I set my face toward it, with no shelter between,

nor covering except a tattered Atḥamī cloth,

وَضافٍ إِذا هَبَّت لَهُ الريحُ طَيَّرَت

لَبائِدَ عَن أَعطافِهِ ما تَرَجَّلُ

and abundant hair: when the wind blows through it, it tosses

uncombed matted locks away from its sides.

بَعيدٌ بِمَسَّ الدُهنِ وَالفَليُ عَهدُهُ

لَهُ عَبَسٌ عافٍ مِنَ الغِسلِ مُحوِلُ

Long has it been since oil touched it or lice were picked from it;

it bears thick, year-old clots of grime, unwashed.

وَخَرقٍ كَضَهرِ التِرسِ قَفرٍ قَطَعتُهُ

بِعامِلَتَينِ ظَهرُهُ لَيسَ يُعمَلُ

And a barren waste like a shield's back I crossed

on two tireless legs, its surface untrodden.

وَأَلحَقتُ أولاهُ بِأُخراهُ موفِياً

عَلى قُنَّةٍ أُقعي مِراراً وَأَمثِلُ

I joined its beginning to its end, standing high

on a summit, squatting repeatedly and standing upright.

تَرودُ الأَراوِيَ الصُحمُ حَولِي كَأَنَّها

عَذارى عَلَيهنَّ المُلاءُ المُذَيَّلُ

Dark-gray ibex roam around me, as though they were

maidens wearing trailing cloaks.

وَيَركُدنَ بالآصالِ حَولِي كَأَنَّني

مِنَ العُصم أَدفى يَنتَحي الكَيحَ أَعقَلُ

They stand still around me in the evenings, as though I were

one of the white-legged ibex, long-horned, seeking the cliff, safe on high.