Sol 6.1

  1. صَبَرتُ عَنكَ فَلَم أَلفِظكَ مِن شَبَعِ

    لَكِن أَرى الصَبرَ أَولى بي مِنَ الجَزَعِ

    I bore your loss, not casting you off because I had my fill;

    but I deem patience more fitting for me than anguish.

  2. وَإِنَّ لي عادَةً في كُلِّ نازِلَةٍ

    أَن لا تَذِلَّ لَها عُنقي مِنَ الضَرَعِ

    And it is my custom, in every calamity,

    that my neck should not bow before it in abasement.

  3. لِذاكَ شَجَّعتُ قَلبي وَهوَ ذو كَمَدٍ

    وَمِلتُ بِالدَمعِ عَنّي وَهوَ ذو دُفَعِ

    So I heartened my heart, though full of sorrow,

    and turned the tears away from me, though they came in surges.

  4. ماضٍ عَلى وَقَعاتِ الدَهرِ إِن طَرَقَت

    غَدا بِحَملِ أَذاها جِدُّ مُضطَلِعِ

    I press on against Time's blows, should they strike

    tomorrow, fully able to bear their hurt.

  5. وَحاسِرٍ يَتَلَقّى كُلَّ نائِبَةٍ

    تُدمي فَيَصبِرُ فيها صَبرَ مُدَّرِعِ

    And many an unarmored man meets every calamity

    that draws blood, yet he endures it like a man in armor.

  6. ما غاضَ دَمعِيَ إِلّا بَعدَما اِنحَدَرَت

    غُروبُهُ بَينَ مُنهَلٍّ وَمُنهَمِعِ

    My tears did not ebb until there had poured down

    their torrents, now streaming, now gushing.

  7. لَولا اِندِفاعُ دُموعِ العَينِ غالِبَةً

    لَم يُعقِبِ الصَبرُ دَمعاً غَيرَ مُندَفِعِ

    Had the eye's tears not rushed forth, overpowering me,

    patience would not have left the tears unflowing.

  8. في اليَأسِ مِنكَ سُلُوٌّ عَنكَ يُضمِرُهُ

    وَقَبلَ يَومِكَ يَقوى الحُزنُ بِالطَمَعِ

    Despair of you harbors forgetfulness of you;

    and before your day of death, grief drew strength from hope.

  9. ما كانَ ذَيلُكَ مَسدولاً عَلى دَنَسٍ

    وَلا نِطاقُكَ مَعقوداً عَلى طَمَعِ

    Your robe's hem was never draped over a stain,

    nor was your girdle ever tied over greed.

  10. ما شِئتَ مِن لينِ أَخلاقٍ وَمَكرُمَةٍ

    وَمِن عَفافٍ وَمِن فَضلٍ وَمِن وَرَعِ

    All you could wish of gentle character and nobility,

    and of chastity, of excellence, and of piety.

  11. لِلَّهِ نَفرَةُ وَجدٍ لَستُ أَملِكُها

    إِذا تَذَكَّرتُ إِخوانَ الصَفاءِ مَعي

    God, what a surge of grief I cannot master,

    when I recall my true-hearted brothers beside me!

  12. يُواصِلُ الحُزنُ قَلبي كُلَّما فُجِعَت

    يَدي بِحَبلٍ مِنَ الأَقرانِ مُنقَطِعِ

    Grief keeps company with my heart whenever loss strikes

    my hand, as a cord to a companion is severed.

  13. أَلقى الغَمامُ حَواياهُ عَلى جَدَثٍ

    نَزَلتَ مِنُه بِمَلقىً غَيرِ مُتَّسِعِ

    May the clouds pour their stores upon a grave

    where you have settled in a resting-place with little room,

  14. في حَيثُ لا طَمعٌ يوماً لِذي طَمَعٍ

    في أَن يَعودَ وَلا رُجعى لِمُرتَجِعِ

    where no hopeful soul can ever hope

    to return, nor can any seeker of return come back.

  15. لا عَينَ تَنظُرُ إِن أَرسى بِعَقوَتِها

    زَورٌ وَلا أُذُنٌ عِندَ النِداءِ تَعي

    No eye looks out when there alight in its courtyard

    visitors, nor does an ear heed the call.

  16. وَهَوَّنَ الوَجدَ أَنَّ المَوتَ مُشتَرَكٌ

    فينا وَأَنّا لِذا الماضي مِنَ التَبَعِ

    And what eased my grief was that death is shared

    among us, and that we follow this departed one.

  17. هِيَ الثَنايا إِلى الآجالِ نَطلَعُها

    فَمِن حَثيثٍ وَمِن راقٍ عَلى ظَلَعِ

    These are the mountain passes we climb toward our appointed ends,

    some hastening on, others ascending with a limp.

  18. كَالشاءِ يُعذَلُ مِنّا غَيرُ مُكتَرِثٍ

    عَيّاً وَيوعَظُ مِنّا غَيرُ مُستَمِعِ

    Like sheep, some of us are rebuked but do not care,

    out of dullness; others are admonished but do not listen.

  19. الآنَ يَعلَمُ أَنَّ العَيشَ مُختَلَسٌ

    وَأَنَّنا نَقطَعُ الأَيّامَ بِالخِدَعِ

    Now he knows that life is snatched away,

    and that we pass our days in delusion.

  20. هَيهاتَ لا قارِحٌ يَبقى وَلا جَذَعٌ

    عَلى نَوائِبِ كَرِّ الأَزلَمِ الجَذِعِ

    Far from it! Neither mature steed nor young colt survives

    the recurring blows of Time, that smooth-faced youth.

  21. إِنَّ المَنايا لَشَتّى بَينَ طارِقَةٍ

    هَوناً وَنافِرَةٍ عَن هَولِ مُطَّلَعِ

    Deaths are indeed diverse: some come knocking

    gently; others bolt from a terrifying prospect.

  22. إِمّا فَناءً عَنِ الدُنيا عَلى مَهَلٍ

    أَوِ اِعتِباطاً يُغادي غُدوَةَ السَبُعِ

    Either a slow fading away from this world,

    or a sudden snatching, striking like a beast of prey at dawn.

  23. ما لِلَّيالي يُرَنِّقنَ المُجاجَةَ مِن

    شُربي وَيوبينَ مُصطافي وَمُرتَبَعي

    Why do the nights muddy the mouthful of

    my drink, and bring pestilence to my summer and spring retreats?

  24. عَدَت عَوادي الرَدى بَيني وَبَينَكُمُ

    وَأَنزَلَتكَ النَوى عَنّي بِمُنقَطِعِ

    Death's raiders rushed between me and you all,

    and separation lodged you far from me in an isolated place.

  25. وَشَتَّتَت شَملَكَ الأَيّامُ ظالِمَةً

    فَشَملُ دَمعي وَلُبّي غَيرُ مُجتَمِعِ

    And the days unjustly scattered your company,

    so my tears and my mind remain ungathered.

  26. أُخَيَّ لا رَغِبَت عَيني وَلا أُذُني

    مِن بَعدِ يَومِكَ في مَرأى وَمُستَمَعِ

    My dear brother, may neither my eye nor my ear crave

    any sight or sound after your day of death.

  27. وَلا أَراكَ بِقَلبٍ غَيرِ مُصطَبِرٍ

    إِذا أَهابَ بِهِ السُلوانُ لَم يُطِعِ

    Nor do I see you with a heart lacking patience;

    when forgetfulness summons it, it will not obey.