تظلم من طرف ظبي رخييم — Alarjani

تَظلَّمَ من طَرْف ظَبْيٍ رَخييمٍ

سَقيمٌ غدا شاكياً من سَقيمِ

He complained of a soft-voiced gazelle's glance—

A lovesick man, now complaining of a languid eye.

فلم يَسْعَ ما بيننا للعتابِ

رَسولٌ يُشاكلُ غَيْرَ النَّسيم

So none passed between us bearing reproach

Save a messenger resembling the breeze.

سلامٌ به بعثَتْ من هوىً

وإنْ هي باتَتْ بلَيْلِ السّليم

A greeting she sent with it out of love,

Though she passed a snakebitten sufferer's night.

على يدِ ريحِ صَباً رُوحَ صَبٍّ سَرتْ

إلى مُقلتَيْ رَشأٍ بالصَّريم

On an east wind's hand, a lover's spirit traveled by night

To a young gazelle's eyes at al-Sarim.

وعادَتْ إليّ بأنفاسِها

صَباحاً وهنَّ أواسي كُلوم

And it returned to me bearing its breaths

At dawn, and they were healers of wounds.

ضِعافُ الهُبوبِ ولكنْ بها

تَخرَّقَ عنّي غَمامُ الغُموم

Faint were their stirrings, yet through them

The clouds of sorrow were torn away from me.

ولولا النّسيمُ عَدِمْتُ الشِّفاءَ

فمَنْ ليَ من وَرْدكمْ بالشَّميم

But for the breeze, I would have had no cure;

Who then could bring me fragrance from your roses?

سرى القَلبُ مِن أَضلُعي ظاعِناً

وَخَلَّفَ لاعَجَ شَوقٍ مقِيم

My heart journeyed by night out from my ribs,

Leaving behind a searing longing that remained.

عَشِيَّةَ هاجَ الهَوى لائِمي

وسَحَّتْ جفونُ مَشوقٍ مَلوم

The evening my reproacher stirred my passion,

The eyelids of a blamed, yearning lover streamed.

فيا عاذلي ثُمّ يا ناظري

لقد جئْتُماني بلَوْمٍ ولُوم

O my reproacher, and then, O my eye,

You two have brought me blame and reproach.

وعَهْدي بنَفْسي إذا ما حنَنْتُ

دُفعْتُ إلى مُقْعِدٍ لي مُقيم

And I know myself: whenever I yearn,

I am driven to an abiding affliction that lays me low.

ونَمَّ بسرِّ الهَوى أدمُعي

وما الدّمعُ إلاّ لسانُ الكَتوم

My tears betrayed the secret of love;

Tears are but the tongue of the reticent.

نظرتُ غداةَ اجتلَيْتُ المِراةَ

وفي عارضي حرْبُ زَنْجٍ وَرُوم

I looked one morning, gazing into the mirror,

And in my side-whiskers was a battle of Zanj and Rum.

وأضعفَ مَرِّيَ مَرُّ الزَّمانِ

وبَدَّلَ وكْري غُراباً بِبُوم

Time's passing weakened my vigor,

And exchanged my nest's raven for an owl.

فقُلْتُ لنَفْسيَ لمّا أسِفْتُ

لخَدٍّ بكفِّ مشيبي لَطيم

So I said to myself, grieving

For a cheek slapped by my gray hair's palm:

تَحامَيْ عنِ اللَّهْو لَهْوِ الشَّبابِ

وحَوْلَ الهوىَ بعْدَهُ لا تَحومي

'Keep clear of diversion, the diversion of youth,

And once it is past, circle no more around love.'

فها أنا أعجِزُ عَجْزَ الفِصال

وإنْ كنتُ أهدْرُ هَدْرَ القُروم

Here I am, weak as weaned camel calves,

Though I bellow like mighty camel stallions.

فطَمْتُ عنِ الصَّبَواتِ الفُؤادَ

ولابدَّ من ضَجْرةٍ للفطيم

I weaned my heart from youthful passions,

And the weanling must have a fit of distress,

ومِن ذَكْرَةٍ لعهودِ الصِّبا

ومن لَفْتةٍ لسَلوبٍ رَؤوم

And some remembrance of the days of youth,

And a backward glance, like a tender, bereaved dam;

وشِعرٍ ألوكُ لساني بهِ

وأُعلنُ شَكْوَى الزّمانِ الظَّلوم

And poetry with which I work my tongue,

And voice complaint against oppressive time,

تَعلُّلَ صافنةِ الخيلِ في

عِراصِ الدّيارِ بلَوْكِ الشّكيم

Taking solace like a mare standing poised

In the house-yards, champing its bit;

وذِكْريَ أَهيفَ ساجي اللّحاظ

هَضومِ المُحبِّ بكَشْحٍ هَضيم

And my recalling a slender one with languid glances,

Cruel to his lover, slender of waist.

حكَى الخالَ في عَطْفةِ الصُّدْغِ منه

بِخطِّ يد الحُسْنِ مِسْكيَّ جِيم

The mole in the curve of his sidelock resembled

A musk-black jim traced by Beauty's hand.

رماني بعَيْنَيْهِ عندَ الوَداعِ

فللّه رامٍ بألْحاظِ ريم

He shot me with his eyes at parting—

God, what an archer with a gazelle's glances!

فأبكَى وأضحكَ في مَوْقفٍ

غداةَ التقَيْنا بأعلَى الغَميم

He made me weep and laugh in one encounter,

The morning we met on the heights of al-Ghamim,

بيومٍ بطلْعتهِ مُشْمسٍ

على المُجْتَلي وبجَفْني مُغيم

On a day made sunny by his face

For the beholder, yet clouded by my eyelids.

كيوم مؤيّد دين الهدى

ترى فيه طلعة حرٍّ عديم

Like a day with the Upholder of the Faith of Guidance,

When you behold the face of a peerless nobleman.

فيَغْدو به مُشرِقاً ناظرٌ

بِبْشرٍ مُقارِنِ بِرٍّ عَميم

Through him the beholder's eye grows bright

With cheerfulness joined to all-embracing kindness.

رحيبُ الذُّرا يأْمَنُ الجارُ في

هِ سَطْوةَ رَيْبِ الزّمانِ الغَشوم

Broad are his heights; his neighbor is safe within

Him from the assaults of ruthless time's reversals.

ويُشْرِقُ بالوفْدِ حَوْمَ الحجيج

على مَشْعرَيْ زَمْزَمٍ والحطيم

He shines amid delegations circling like pilgrims

At the two sacred sites, Zamzam and al-Hatim.

وغيرُ وخيمٍ ذُرا ماجدٍ

له كلُّ خُلْقٍ كريمٍ وخيم

No unwholesome place are the heights of a nobleman

Who has every noble trait and disposition.

وأبلجُ من لغَطِ السّائلي

نَ لا بالمَلولِ ولا بالسَّؤوم

Radiant amid the clamor of petitioners,

Neither impatient nor weary.

له أبداً من رياضِ العَلا

ء زُرْقُ الجمامِ وخُضْرُ الجَميم

Always, from the gardens of glory, he has

Blue pools and green, luxuriant herbage.

أُديلَ به الفضلُ من دهرهِ

فباللهِ يا دولةَ الفضلِ دُومي

Through him, merit gained victory over its age;

By God, O reign of merit, endure!

وحامَيْ حريمٍ لدينِ الهُدَى

فيا دينُ دمتَ منيعَ الحريم

And a guardian of the sanctuary of guidance's faith—

O faith, may your sanctuary remain impregnable!

حليمٌ عليمٌ بسرّ الزّمانِ

فأشْرِفْ به من حليمٍ عليم

Forbearing, knowing time's secrets—

How noble he is, forbearing and wise!

ولم يكُ حُسْنُ رياضِ العلو

م إلاّ بجَنْبِ جبالِ الحُلوم

And the gardens of learning could have no beauty

Except beside the mountains of forbearance.

يُعِدُّ الخليفةُ يومَ الجدالِ

فتىً منهُ يُفحمُ لُدَّ الخُصوم

The caliph readies, for the day of debate,

A champion in him who silences the fiercest opponents.

وعن حضرةِ القُدْسِ منه يَنوبُ

فيَحْمي حقيقةَ مُلْكٍ عَقيم

And on his behalf he deputizes for the sacred court,

Guarding the claims of a kingship that knows no kin,

بأرقمَ يَلْثِمُ قرطاسَه

فَيتركُ سوداً به من رُقوم

With a speckled serpent that kisses its paper,

Leaving black inscriptions upon it.

إمامٌ ومحرابُه طِرْسُه

طَويلُ السُّجودِ برأْسٍ أَميم

An imam whose prayer-niche is its page,

Long in prostration, with a wounded head.

إذا هو أَبدَى له سَجْدةً

بمَشْقٍ ولو قَدْرَ تدويرِ ميم

Whenever it offers the page a prostration,

In a penstroke, even the rounding of a mim,

بهِ ائتَمَّ كلُّ الورَى ساجدِينَ

بهامٍ إلى رَشْفِ ما خَطَّ هِيم

All mankind follow it as imam, prostrating,

With heads athirst to sip what it has written.

فأعظِمْ به آيةً للكَريمِ

كما عُهدَتْ آيةٌ للكَليم

How mighty a sign it is for the generous man,

As a sign was known for him who spoke with God!

فكم بَهَر النّاسَ من مُعْجزٍ

بضَرْبَيْنِ من بُؤْسهِ والنّعيم

How many miracles it has worked to dazzle men,

In two forms: the suffering and bliss it brings.

فبجّسَ صَخْرَ المليكِ الوَليّ

ويبّسَ بحرَ المليكِ الخَصيم

It made the allied king's rock gush forth,

And dried up the hostile king's sea.

كذا مَنْ غدا في اللُّبابِ اللُّبابِ

منَ المجدِ أو في الصَّميمِ الصَّميم

Such is one who dwells in the very essence

Of glory, or its deepest, innermost heart.

كأنَّ بلوغَ المعالي يَقولُ

أرومُ منَ المرءِ طِيبَ الأُروم

As though the attainment of high ranks were saying:

'I seek in a man the goodness of his roots.'

أيا ماجداً جُبِلَتْ نَفْسُه

على خُلُقٍ لا يُبارَي عظيم

O nobleman whose soul was fashioned

With a great character none can rival,

رقابُ الأنامِ خُيولُ الكرامِ

وفيها رُسومُهمْ كالوُسوم

Men's necks are the steeds of the generous,

And their imprints on them are like brands.

وأكثرُ هذا الوَرى كالدّيارِ

وبالي رُسومهم كالرُّسوم

Most of this mankind are like dwellings,

And their faded traces are like ruins.

ولكن أياديكَ وهْيَ البحا

رُ نأتي عِدادَ قِطارِ الغُيوم

But your favors—and they are seas—

We come in numbers like the clouds' raindrops.

وفوقَ ندَى اليومِ يُرجَى غداً

نَدى ماجدٍ بالمعالي زَعيم

Beyond today's bounty, tomorrow one hopes for

The bounty of a nobleman, guarantor of lofty deeds.

فما عَقْدُ مَعْروفِه بالضَّعيفِ

وما عَهْدُ عِرْفانِه بالذَّميم

The bond of his kindness is not weak,

Nor is the experience of knowing him blameworthy.

نصَرْتَ مَضيمَ قوافٍ أقولُ

ونَفَّسْتَ عن أدَبٍ لي كَظيم

You championed the wronged rhymes I utter,

And brought relief to my stifled literary art.

وما قام قَيسٌ وقَيسٌ معاً

لثأريهما مالكٍ والخَطيم

Not even Qays and Qays together rose

To avenge Malik and al-Khatim,

قِيامَكَ للفضلِ في ذا الزَّما

نِ حتّى أخذتَ بثأْرٍ مُنيم

As you rose for merit in this age,

Until you exacted a vengeance that brought repose.

فأنت المُرادُ بلَفْظِ الوَرى

وأنت الخُصوصُ لهذا العُموم

You are what is meant by the word 'mankind,'

And you are the particular within that universal.

كأنّ المجَرّةَ وسْطَ السّماء

مَجَرٌّ لذَيْلكَ فوقَ النُّجوم

As though the Milky Way amid the sky

Were the trail of your robe's train above the stars;

كأنّ الثُّريّا لبادي الظّلا

مِ كَفٌّ إلى نَهْجِ عَلْياكَ تُومي

As though the Pleiades at the onset of night

Were a hand gesturing toward the path to your heights;

كأنّ الهلالَ يُشيرُ أَمامَ

حُسامِ الورَى كسوارٍ فَصيم

As though the crescent gestured before

The Sword of Mankind, like a broken bracelet.

فَخُذْها قريضاً وإنْ لم يكنْ

من العَيْبِ أيضاً بذاكَ السَّليم

So take it as verse, though it is not

Entirely free of blemish either:

بدائعَ لو قَدُمَتْ في الزّمانِ

رَواهَا من الحُسْنِ فَحْلا تَميم

Marvels which, had they appeared in ancient times,

Tamim's two master poets would have recited for their beauty.

قَبولُكَ يُزْهَى بهِ مِقْولي

لما فيك من خُلْقِ طَبْعٍ كريم

Your acceptance makes my tongue proud,

For the noble disposition of your nature;

فيُصلِحُ فاسِدَهُ للعُيونِ

ويَكْشِفُ غامِضَه للفَهوم

It makes its faults seem sound to the eyes,

And reveals its obscurities to understanding,

كما الفَصُّ يَعْوَجُّ مكْتوبُه

ويُبدِلُه الشّمْعُ بالمُسْتَقيم

As a seal-stone's inscription is reversed,

And wax turns it the right way round.

فعِشْ للعُلا قمراً في دُجَى

من الدَّهرِ أو غُرّةً في بهيم

So live for glory, a moon in the darkness

Of time, or a white blaze against its blackness.

وَمتّعْتَ بالعزِّ فيمَنْ تُحبْ

بُ ما اعْتيدَ جَوْبُ الفلا بالرَّسيم

May you enjoy honor among those you love,

As long as deserts are crossed at a camel's trot,

وخَفَّ الحُسامُ بكفّ الكَميّ

وكأْسُ المُدامِ بكَفِّ النّديم

And the sword swings lightly in the warrior's hand,

And the wine-cup in the boon companion's hand.