ما العجب في خلق ذاك الخلق بالعجب — Alkadhi Alfadil

ما العُجبُ في خُلقِ ذاكَ الخَلقِ بِالعَجَبِ

لا تُنكِريهِ فَما لِلشَيبِ وَالشَنَبِ

The conceit in that creature's nature is no wonder.

Do not deny it—what have gray hair and pearly teeth in common?

قالَت بَكَيتُ دَماً زَكَّتهُ وَجنَتُها

فَقُلتُ قَد جِئتِ عَنّي بِالدَمِ الكَذِبِ

'I wept blood,' she said; her cheek confirmed it.

I said, 'You have brought false blood on my account.'

شَهِدتُ أَنَّ مِثالَ الشَهدِ مِن فَمِها

وَأَنَّ في سِرِّهِ ضَرباً مِنَ الضَرَبِ

I bore witness that honey takes its pattern from her mouth,

and that its secret holds a kind of white honey;

وَأَنَّهُ في مَذاقِ الثَغرِ مِن بَرَدٍ

وَأَنَّهُ في مَذاقِ القَلبِ مِن لَهَبِ

and that, to the mouth, its taste is of hail,

and that, to the heart, its taste is of flame.

لا تَعذِلوا الجَفنَ في صَوبَي دَمٍ وَكَرىً

لَو لَم يُصَب بِسِهامِ الجَفنِ لَم يَصُبِ

Do not reproach the eyelid for its two downpours, blood and slumber:

had it not been struck by the eyelid's arrows, it would not have poured.

لا يَخدَعَنَّكَ في خَدَّيهِ ماءُ رِضاً

فَإِنَّ في قَلبِهِ ناراً مِنَ الغَضَبِ

Do not let the water of contentment in his cheeks deceive you:

within his heart is a fire of anger.

وَما ذَكَرتُ لَيالينا الَّتي سَلَفَت

إِلّا بَكَيتُ بُدورَ الحُسنِ بِالشُهُبِ

Never have I recalled our bygone nights

without mourning beauty's full moons with shooting stars.

لَأَبكِيَنَّ دَماً بَعدَ الدُموعِ لَها

وَقَلَّ تَشييعُ ذاكَ السِربِ بِالسَرَبِ

I shall surely weep blood for them after tears;

a stream is scant farewell for that flock.

دَعني فَفي أَدمُعي غالٍ وَمُرتَخَصٌ

أَبكي عَلى مُذهِباتِ الهَمِّ بِالذَهَبِ

Leave me: among my tears are the precious and the cheap.

I weep gold for the banishers of sorrow.

بَيني وَبَينَ النَوى مِن بَعدِكُم نُوَبٌ

العَيشُ مِن بَعدِها مِن جُملَةِ النُوَبِ

Between me and separation, since you left, lie afflictions;

life after them is itself among the afflictions.

عَيشٌ حَلا وَخَلا مَن لي بِعَودَتِهِ

هَيهاتَ يا طَرَبي أَبعَدتَ في الطَلَبِ

A life that was sweet and passed away—who can restore it to me?

Beyond reach, my joy! You have gone too far in seeking.

إِنَّ اِشتِعالَ ضِرامِ الشَيبِ يُخبِرُني

بِأَنَّ غُصنِيَ مِمّا عُدَّ في الحَطَبِ

The blazing fire of gray hair tells me

that my branch is counted among firewood.

حَضَرتُهُ غائِباً عَنّي بِفِكرَتِهِ

عَجِبتُ مِنِّيَ لَم أَحضُر وَلَم أَغِبِ

In thought I attended him, though he was absent from me;

I marveled at myself: neither present nor absent.

إِذا أَغَرتَ عَلى قَلبي فَخُذ جَلَدي

وَنَومَ عَيني وَدَعهُ آخِرَ الطَلَبِ

When you raid my heart, take my endurance

and my eyes' sleep, but leave it till the end of your pursuit.

وَهِمَّةُ الحُسنِ يَومَ القَتلِ عالِيَةٌ

مِن شأنِها طَلَبُ المَسلوبِ لا السَلَبِ

Beauty's ambition on the day of slaughter is lofty:

its way is to seek the plundered one, not the plunder.

بَيني وَبَينَكَ فَاِحفَظهُ ذِمامُ هَوىً

وَقَد يُرَدُّ أَخيذُ العُربِ بِالحَسَبِ

Between you and me is love's covenant—preserve it;

a captive of the Arabs may be released for honor's sake.

لا تَقطَعوا سُبُلَ المَعروفِ لاحِبَةً

شَريعَةٌ أَسَّسَتها نَخوَةُ العَرَبِ

Do not cut off the well-trodden paths of kindness:

a law founded by the chivalry of the Arabs.

إِن كُنتَ تُنقِذُ نَفساً أَنتَ آخِذُها

فَالآنَ فَاِبكِ وُقوعَ النَفسِ في العَطَبِ

If you would save a soul you are taking,

then now weep for that soul's fall into ruin.

قَلبٌ تَغَرَّبَ مُغتَرّاً بِخادِعِهِ

فَهَل تَرِقُّ لِمُغتَرٍّ وَمُغتَرِبِ

A heart went into exile, beguiled by its deceiver:

will you pity one beguiled and far from home?

إِذا تَذَكَّرَ رَوضاً مِن وِصالِكُمُ

بَكى عَلَيهِ بِما شِئتُم مِنَ السُحُبِ

Whenever it recalls a garden of union with you,

it weeps over it with whatever clouds you wish.

سُحبٌ إِذا هَطَلَت في وَجهِهِ اِنقَشَعَت

وَحَلَّتِ القَلبَ إِذ حَلَّتهُ بِالعُشُبِ

Clouds that disperse once they have rained upon its face,

and settle in the heart, adorning it with grass.

عُشبٌ إِذا كانَ قَلبُ الصَبِّ مُنبِتَهُ

أَعادَهُ حينَ عاداهُ إِلى التُرَبِ

Grass that, when the lovelorn heart is its growing-place,

returns that heart to dust when it becomes its foe.

سُقيتُمُ وَسَقى الدارَ الَّتي رُقِمَت

سُطورُها مِن قُلوبِ الوَجدِ في كُتُبِ

May you be watered, and the dwelling watered whose

lines were inscribed from hearts of longing in books,

سَحابُ وادِقَةٍ صَخّابُ بارِقَةِ

مُبيَضَّةُ العَذبِ أَو مُحمَرَّةُ العَذَبِ

by a rain-laden cloud, its lightning clamorous,

white in its sweet water, or red along its fringes.

يَزيدُ لامِعُهُ وَالرَعدُ تابِعُهُ

وَجهُ الرِضا يَقتَفيهِ مَنطِقُ الغَضَبِ

Its flashing grows stronger, and thunder follows it:

a face of contentment pursued by the speech of anger.

يَقضي حُقوقَ لَياليهِ الَّتي وَجَبَت

فَكَم قَضَينَ لَنا حَقّاً وَلَم يَجِبِ

It pays the dues owed to its nights:

how often they honored our claim when nothing was owed!

كانَ الفِراقُ عَلى جَدِّ الأَسى لَعِباً

فَفَرَّقَ الشَيبُ بَينَ الجِدِّ وَاللَعِبِ

Parting, despite sorrow's earnestness, was play;

then gray hair distinguished earnestness from play.

أَنهَضتَ يا دَهرُ عَمداً كُلَّ ذي أَرَبٍ

مِنّا وَلَم أَرَ بي نَهضاً إِلى أَرَبي

You deliberately roused, O Time, every man of purpose

among us, yet I found no lift toward my own desire.

فَإِن طَمِعتُ فَما أَروَيتَ مِن بَحَرٍ

وَإِن قَنَعتُ فَما أَنقَعتَ مِن ثَغَبِ

If I sought more, you slaked no thirst from a sea;

if I was content with little, you slaked none from a pool.

أَنَلتَ غَيرِيَ ما يَهوى بِلا سَبَبٍ

وَنِلتَني بِالَّذي أَخشى بِلا سَبَبِ

You granted another what he desired, for no reason,

and struck me with what I feared, for no reason.

إِن أَخلَفَ الخِلفُ مِن مِصرٍ فَوا عَطَشي

إِن رُمتُ في حَلَبٍ ما رُمتُ مِن حَلَبِ

If Egypt's teat fails, alas for my thirst,

if I seek in Aleppo what I sought from milking!

الجارُ ذو القُربِ وَالقُربى مُضَيِّعَةٌ

حَقوقَهُ ما يُرى في جارِها الجُنُبِ

The neighbor close at hand—kinship neglects

his rights: what may its distant neighbor expect?

تُبدي إِليَّ قُلوبٌ ما اِغتَرَرتُ بِها

وَذا هُوَ الماءُ فيهِ البَثرُ كَالحَبَبِ

Hearts reveal themselves to me; I have not been fooled by them:

such is water in which pustules look like bubbles.

وَقائِلٍ قَد قَطَعتَ الدَهرَ ذا تَعَبٍ

فَقُلتُ لي راحَةٌ في ذَلِكَ التَعَبِ

And someone said, 'You have spent your life in toil.'

I said, 'I find rest in that very toil.'

الرِزقُ كَالطَيفِ يَأتي كُلَّ ذي سِنَةٍ

أَو لا فَكالصَيدِ يَأتي كُلَّ ذي طَلَبِ

Livelihood is like a dream-visitor: it comes to every sleeper;

or else, like game, it comes to every pursuer.

سَلوا المَطامِعَ يا أَهلَ المَطامِعِ هَل

أَشُدُّ لُبّي وَلا أُرخي لَها لَبَبي

Ask desires, you people of desire, whether

I bind my reason fast and do not loosen my breast-strap for them.

أَشكو إِلى قَلَمي نارَ الهُمومِ وَيا

ما أَصعَبَ النارَ إِذ تُشكى إِلى القَصَبِ

I complain to my pen of the fire of cares—and oh,

how grievous is fire when one complains of it to reeds!

تِلكَ المَساعي أَراها غَيرَ مُثمِرَةٍ

فَاليَومَ لَيسَ سِوى الشَكوى إِلى القُضُبِ

Those endeavors, I see, bear no fruit;

so today there is nothing but complaint to swords.

سَلِ اللَيالِيَ هَل ثابَت عَوائِدُها

فَلَم أَثُب وَاِستَحاشَتني فَلَم أَثِبِ

Ask the nights: have their favors ever returned

without my returning, or have they shunned me without my leaping away?

وَهَل نَهَضتُ أَمامَ اليُسرِ مِن مَرَحٍ

وَهَل جَثَمتُ وَراءَ العُسرِ مِن لَغَبِ

And did I rise before ease out of exuberance?

And did I crouch behind hardship out of weariness?

وَما مَدَحتُ الأَماني وَهيَ تَملَأُ لي

وَلا ذَمَمتُ زَماني وَهوَ يَفخَرُ بي

Nor did I praise hopes when they brought me abundance,

nor blame my age while it took pride in me.

وَما جَهِلتُ وَلَيسَ الجَهلُ مِن شِيَمي

أَن لا قَرابَةَ بَينَ الحَظِّ وَالأَدَبِ

Nor was I ignorant—and ignorance is not among my traits—

that fortune and learning have no kinship.

وَلا نَسيتُ الَّذي في النَخلِ يَمنَعُني

مِن شِكَّةِ الشَوكِ عَن مَجنى جَنى الرُطَبِ

Nor did I forget what, in the palms, keeps me

from gathering ripe dates: the pricking of thorns.

وَما اِرتِياحي أَميرٌ في يَدَي رَغَبٍ

وَلا اِرتِياعي أَسيرٌ في يَدَي رَهَبِ

My delight is no prince in the hands of desire,

nor is my terror a captive in the hands of fear.

ما سَرَّني وَفُنونُ العَيشِ ذاهِبَةٌ

مِلءُ الحَقائِبِ بِالمُملى عَلى الحِقَبِ

It has not gladdened me, while life's pleasures pass,

to fill saddlebags with what is dictated to the ages.

إِنّي وَقَولِيَ لا أَخشى تَعَقُّبَهُ

لا أَوَّلي بِيَ مَستورٌ وَلا عَقِبي

As for me—and I fear no scrutiny of my words—

neither my origins nor my descendants are obscured by me.

مَن مُخرِجٌ لِلمَعالي أَنَّها كُتِبَت

إِلّا لِذي كُنيَةٍ لِلقَومِ أَو لَقَبِ

Who can prove that high honors were decreed

only for someone with a byname or title among his people?

إِنَّ الَّذينَ تُناديهِم عَلى كَثَبٍ

بانوا وَأَعمالُهُم تُبنى عَلى كُثُبِ

Those whom you call from close at hand

have gone away, and their deeds are built on dunes.

مِن كُلِّ مَن إِن يَجِد تَيهاءَ مُشكِلَةٍ

إِذا دَعاهُ إِلَيها الفِكرُ لَم يُجِبِ

Each one who, if he finds the desert of a problem,

does not answer when thought calls him into it.

وَهيَ القُلوبُ إِن اِستَكشَفتَ باطِنَها

فَكَالحِجارَةِ أَو أَقسى وَكَالقُلُبِ

Such are the hearts: if you uncover their inner parts,

they are like stones, or harder, and like wells.

هَبِ المَحَبَّةَ رِقّاً وَالمُحِبَّ لَكَم

عَبداً فَهَل يُؤمَنُ المُقصى عَلى الهَرَبِ

Suppose love is bondage and the lover your

slave: can the outcast be trusted not to flee?

ما بَينَ طَعمَينِ فَرقٌ بَعدُ في فَمِهِ

وَلَيسَ في الخَمرِ مَعنىً لَيسَ فيالعِنَبِ

As yet, there is no difference between two tastes in his mouth,

and wine has no quality that is not in grapes.

أَعرِب أَحاديثَ قالوا في أَوائِلَها

لَيسَت بِنَبعٍ إِذا عُدَّت وَلا غَرَبِ

Make clear the tales of which they said at the outset:

'When reckoned, they are neither nabʿ-wood nor willow.'