من شافعي وذنوبي عندها الكبر — Alsharif Alradi

مَن شافِعي وَذُنوبي عِندَها الكِبَرُ

إِنَّ المَشيبَ لَذَنبٌ لَيسَ يُغتَفَرُ

Who will intercede for me, when my offense in her eyes is age?

Gray hair is indeed a sin that cannot be forgiven.

راحَت تُريحُ عَليكَ الهَمَّ صاحِيَةً

وَعِندَ قَلبِكَ مَن غَيِّ الهَوى سَكَرُ

She went on laying sorrow upon you, sober,

While your heart is drunk with love's waywardness.

رَأَت بَياضَكَ مُسوَدّاً مَطالِعُهُ

ما فيهِ لِلحُبِّ لا عَينٌ وَلا أَثَرُ

She saw your whiteness as dark in its dawning,

With no visible sign of love in it, nor any trace.

وَأَيُّ ذَنبٍ لِلَونٍ راقَ مَنظَرُهُ

إِذا أَراكَ خِلافَ الصِبغَةِ الأَثَرُ

Yet what fault has a color pleasing to behold,

If its effect shows you the opposite of its hue?

وَما عَلَيكَ وَنَفسي فيكَ واحِدَةٌ

إِذا تَلَوَّنَ في أَلوانِهِ الشَعَرُ

And what harm to you, when my soul is constant toward you,

If hair changes among its colors?

أَنساكَ طولُ نَهارِ الشَيبِ آخِرَهُ

وَكُلُّ لَيلِ شَبابٍ عَيبُهُ القِصَرُ

The length of gray hair's day has made you forget its end,

And every night of youth has brevity for its flaw.

إِنَّ السَوادَ عَلى لَذّاتِهِ لَعَمىً

كَما البَياضُ عَلى عِلّاتِهِ بَصَرُ

Blackness, for all its pleasures, is blindness,

As whiteness, for all its afflictions, is sight.

البيضُ أَوفى وَأَبقى لي مُصاحَبَةً

وَالسودُ مُستَوفِزاتٌ لِلنَوى غُدُرُ

White hairs are more faithful and longer-lasting companions to me,

While black hairs are treacherous, poised for departure.

كُنتَ البَهيمَ وَأَعلاقُ الهَوى جُدُدٌ

وَأَخلَقَتكَ حُجولُ الشَيبِ وَالغُرَرُ

You were wholly black when love's treasures were new,

And gray hair's white stockings and forehead blazes have worn you out.

وَلَيسَ كُلُّ ظَلامٍ دامَ غَيهَبُهُ

يَسُرُّ خابِطَهُ إِن يَطلَعَ القَمَرُ

Not in every darkness whose gloom has lingered

Is its stumbling traveler gladdened when the moon rises.

أَما تَريني كَصِلٍّ تَحتَ هَضبَتِهِ

بِالرَملِ أَطرَقَ لا نابٌ وَلا ظُفُرُ

Do you not see me like an asp beneath its rock,

Head bowed in the sand, with neither fang nor claw?

مُسالِماً يَأمَنُ الأَقرانُ عَدوَتَهُ

مُلقى الحَنِيَّةِ عَرّى مَتنَها الوَتَرُ

Peaceable, my peers safe from my assault,

My bow cast aside, its back abandoned by the string;

كَالفَرعِ ساقِطَ ما يَعلوهُ مِن وَرَقٍ

وَالجَفنِ أُفرِدَ عَنهُ الصارِمُ الذَكَرُ

Like a bough whose covering leaves have fallen,

And a scabbard bereft of its hard, cutting blade.

إِن أَشهَدِ القَومَ لا أَعلَم نَجِيَّهُمُ

ماذا قَضَوا وَيُجَمجِم دونِيَ الخَبَرُ

If I attend the gathering, I know nothing of their secret counsel—

What they have decided; the news is muffled from me.

كانَ الشَبابُ الَّذي أَنضَيتُ مِندَلَهُ

عِقبَ الخَميلَةِ لَمّا صَوَّحَ الزَهرُ

The youth whose fragrant aloeswood I exhausted

Was the grove's remnant when the flowers withered.

مِن بَعدِ ما كُنتُ أَستَسبي المَها شَغَفاً

أَمسَت تَروعُ بِيَ الغِزلانُ وَالبَقَرُ

After I once captivated the oryx with passion,

The gazelles and wild cattle now take fright at me.

لَم أَدرِ أَنَّ الصِبا تَبلى خَميصَتُهُ

وَأَنَّ مُنصاتَ ذاكَ العودِ يَنأَطِرُ

I did not know that youth's patterned cloak could wear out,

Or that the upright part of that stem could bend.

إِن أُمسِ لا يَتَّقي زَجري وَلا غَضَبي

وَلائِدُ الحَيِّ مَملولاً لِيَ العُمُرُ

If now neither my rebuke nor my anger is feared

By the clan's slave girls, my life grown wearisome,

فَقَد أَرُدُّ العَفَرنى عَن أَكيلَتِهِ

وَأَزجُرُ الضَيغَمَ الغادي فَيَنزَجِرُ

Yet many a time I drove the mighty lion from its prey,

And rebuked the lion roaming at dawn, and it drew back.

ما لِلزَمانِ رَمى قَومي فَذَعذَعَهُم

تَطايُرَ القَعبِ لَمّا صَكَّهُ الحَجَرُ

What ails Time, that it struck my people and scattered them

As a wooden bowl flies apart when struck by a stone?

يَنفَضُّ جُمّاعُهُم عَن كُلِّ نائِبَةٍ

كَما تَهالَكَ تَحتَ الميسَمِ الوَبَرُ

Their gathered company scatters at every calamity,

As camel hair falls away beneath the branding iron.

ما كانَ ضَرَّ اللَيالي لَو نَفَسنَ بِهِم

عَلى النَوائِبِ وَاِستَثناهُمُ القَدَرُ

What harm would it have done the nights to withhold them

From calamities, and for fate to exempt them?

أَصبَحتُ بَعدَهُمُ في شَرَّ خالِفَةٍ

مِثلَ السَلى حَولَهُ الذُؤبانُ وَالنَمِرُ

After them I have come among the worst of those left behind,

Like afterbirth surrounded by wolves and a leopard.

في كُلِّ يَومٍ لِرَحلي عَن نَواقِرِهِم

إِلى المَعاطِبِ مَهواةٌ وَمُحتَفَرُ

Each day, through their malice, my saddle faces

A chasm and a pit leading to destruction.

أَرُدُّ نَبلَ الأَداني ما رُميتُ بِها

فَهَل إِلى الرَحِمِ البَلهاءِ لي عُذُرُ

I turn back the arrows of close kin whenever they are shot at me;

Have I an excuse to offer witless kinship?

وَقَد أَروعُ سَوامَ الحَيِّ راتِعَةً

بِمُقرَبٍ لا يُواري عُنقَهُ الخَمَرُ

Many a time I have startled the clan's grazing herds

On a cherished steed whose neck no thicket can hide.

إِذا تَوَجَّسَ كانَ القَلبُ ناظِرَهُ

وَالقَلبُ يَنظُرُ ما لا يَنظُرُ البَصَرُ

When he senses danger, his heart becomes his eye,

And the heart sees what eyesight cannot see.

أَجفو لَهُ الوُلدَ مَذخوراً لَهُ شَفَقِ

عَليهِ دونَهُمُ الرَوعاتُ وَالحَذَرُ

I neglect my children for his sake, reserving my tenderness for him;

For him, not them, are my alarms and fears.

يُمسونَ شُعثاً وَيُمسي في بَلَهنِيَةٍ

كَأَنَّما جَدُّهُ عَدنانُ أَو مُضَرُ

They pass the evening unkempt, while he passes it at ease,

As though his forefather were Adnan or Mudar.

فَفي القُلوبِ عَلى حَوبائِهِ حَنَقٌ

وَبِالعُيونِ إِلى مِضمارِهِ شَرَرُ

So hearts harbor rage against his very life,

And eyes cast sparks toward his racecourse,

مِن عاطِياتٍ تَعالى في أَعِنَّتِها

صَكَّ القِداحِ رَماها القَامِرُ اليَسَرُ

From high-reaching mares that rear against their reins

With the clatter of gaming arrows cast by a winning gamester.

وَاليَومُ عُريانُ مَشهورٌ بِفُرجَتِهِ

يَعتَمُّ بِالنَقعِ أَطواراً وَيَأتَزِرُ

And the day lies naked, its bareness exposed,

At times turbaned and girdled with dust.

كَأَنَّهُنَّ ذِئابُ القاعِ مُجفِلَةً

لَولا السَبيبُ عَلى الأَعناقِ وَالعُذُرُ

They seem like wolves of the plain, fleeing in alarm,

But for the manes upon their necks and the cheek-straps.

يَطلُعنَ نَزوَ الدَبى العامِيِّ آوِنَةً

أَو مِطرَقَ القَينِ يَنزو تَحتَهُ الشَرَرُ

At times they leap like the season's young locusts,

Or a smith's hammer, beneath which sparks leap.

تَخالُهُنَّ مَزادَ الماءِ أَغفَلَها

بِالدَوِّ رَبطُ العَزالي فَهيَ تَبتَدِرُ

You would take them for water-skins left neglected,

Their spouts untied in the wilderness, pouring forth in a rush.

سَواهِماً كَصَوالي النارِ أَلجَأَها

إِلى مَواقِدِها الشَفّانُ وَالقِرَرُ

Gaunt as those warming at a fire, driven

To its hearths by cold wind and bitter chill.

تَكادُ تَسبُقُ أَيديها نَواظِرَها

إِلى الطَريدَةِ لَولا اللُجمُ وَالعُذُرُ

Their forelegs would almost outrun their eyes

Toward the quarry, were it not for bits and cheek-straps.

إِنّي حَلَفتُ بِأَيدي الراقِصاتِ ضُحىً

وَبِالحَجيجِ وَما لَبّوا وَما جَمَروا

I have sworn by the forelegs of she-camels dancing at forenoon,

And by the pilgrims, their answering cries and their casting of pebbles;

وَالرائِحاتِ إِلى جَمعٍ مُحَزَّمَةً

مَرَّ اليَمامِ دَعا أَورادَها الصَدَرُ

And by those traveling at evening to Jam‘, tightly girt,

Passing like doves, their watering flocks summoned by departure;

تَنوسُ رُكبانُها نَوسَ القِراطِ إِذا

مالَت مِنَ السَهَرِ الأَجيادُ وَالعُذُرُ

Their riders sway like earrings when

Necks and cheeks droop from sleeplessness;

وَما أُريقَ بِأَعلى الخَيفِ مِن عَلَقٍ

تُوجى لَهُ البُدُنُ المُلقاةُ وَالجُزُرُ

And by the blood poured out in upper al-Khayf,

For which the felled sacrificial camels and slaughter-beasts are wounded;

وَالبَيتِ قالِصَةً عَنهُ ذَلاذِلُهُ

سَومَ المَخيضِ جَلا عَن رُكنِهِ الحَجرُ

And by the House, its hanging skirts drawn up,

Like a she-camel in labor, the Stone showing at its corner—

لَأُمطِرَنَّ بَني الدَيّانِ دامِيَةً

هَطلى تُذَمَّ بِها الأَنواءُ وَالمَطَرُ

I shall surely rain a bloody shower upon Banu al-Dayyan,

A downpour for which rain-stars and rain will be reviled.

قَلّوا عَناءً وَإِن أَثرى عَديدُهُمُ

وَرُبَّما قَلَّ أَقوامٌ وَإِن كَثُروا

They count for little in service, though their numbers abound;

Many a people is small, though numerous.

لا يَجبُرونَ عَلى الأَيّامِ مَن وَهَنوا

بِالقارِعاتِ وَلا يَأسونَ مَن عَقَروا

They do not mend over time those they have weakened

With crushing blows, nor heal those they have maimed.

تَمَسَّكوا بِوَصايا اللُؤمِ تَحسَبُهُم

تُتلى عَليهِم بِها الآياتُ وَالزُبُرُ

They cling to baseness's precepts; you would think

Verses and scriptures were recited to them in its support.

يا أَعثَرَ اللَهُ أَيدي أَنيُقٍ حَمَلَت

رَحلي إِلى حَيثُ لا ماءٌ وَلا شَجَرُ

Ah, may God trip the forelegs of the she-camels that carried

My saddle where there is neither water nor trees.

مَنازِلٌ لا يُرَجّى عِندَها أَمَلٌ

عَلى اللَيالي وَلا يُقضى بِها وَطَرُ

Abodes where no hope can be cherished

Through the nights, and no desire fulfilled.

مَنابِتٌ سارَ فيها قادِحٌ عَمِلٌ

يَرمي العُروقَ وَعيدانٌ بِها خَوَرُ

Plantings through which a tireless wood-borer has crept,

Attacking the roots, their stems full of weakness.

مِن كُلِّ وَجهٍ نِقابُ العارِ نُقبَتُهُ

كَالعِرِّ مَرَّ عَليهِ القارُ وَالقَطَرُ

From every face whose complexion is a veil of shame,

Like mange coated over with tar and pitch.

يَصدى مِنَ اللُؤمِ حَتّى لَو تُعاوِدُهُ

أَيدي العُيونِ زَماناً لَاِنجَلى الأَثَرُ

It rusts with baseness, so that, were it tended repeatedly

By the hands of springs for a time, the mark would clear.

أَبقَوا مَخازِيَ لا تُعفي مَواطِنَها

عَلى البِلادِ فُضولُ الرَيطِ وَالأُزُرُ

They left disgraces whose sites cannot be effaced

Across the land by the trailing folds of robes and waist-wraps.

ياطَلحَ آمَةَ لاسُقّيتَ مِن شَجرٍ

مُذَمَّمِ الأَرضِ لا ظِلٌّ وَلا ثَمَرُ

O acacia of Amah, may you go unwatered, a tree

Of accursed soil, with neither shade nor fruit.

كَأَنَّني يَومَ أَستَدريكَ مِن حَذَرٍ

جاني دَمٍ طاحَ لامَنجى وَلا وَزَرُ

As though, when I seek your shelter in fear,

I were a shedder of blood, fallen, with no escape or refuge.

سِيّانِ عِندي وَأَيدي الحَيِّ جامِدَةٌ

إِن أَخطَأَ القَطرُ وَاِديهِم وَإِن مُطِروا

It is all the same to me, while the clan's hands are frozen,

Whether rain misses their valley or they are rained upon.

ما كُلُّ مُثمِرَةٍ تَحلو لِذايِقِها

إِنَّ السِياطَ لَها مِن مِثلِها ثَمَرُ

Not every fruit-bearing tree tastes sweet to its taster;

Whips too have fruit of their own kind.

أَلومُ مَن لا يَعُدُّ اللُؤمَ مَنقَصَةً

وَضاعَ عَتبُ مُسيءٍ ليسَ يَعتَذِرُ

I reproach those who do not count baseness a defect;

Reproach is wasted on a wrongdoer who will not apologize.

يا نَفسِ لا تَهلَكي يَأساً وَلاتَدَعي

لَوكَ الشَكائِمِ حَتّى يَنجَلي العُمُرُ

O my soul, do not perish of despair, and do not cease

Gnawing the bits until life has passed.

قالوا اِنتَظِرها وَإِن عَزَّت مَطالِبُها

هَل يُنظِرُ القَدَرُ الجاني فَأَنتَظِرُ

They said, 'Await it, though its attainment is hard.'

Does criminal fate grant respite, that I should wait?

أَلقى المَطامِعَ مَبتوتاً حَبائِلُها

لِلرِزقِ وَالرِزقُ لا الداني وَلا القَفِرُ

I find desires with their snares severed,

For sustenance—yet sustenance is neither near nor out in the waste.

طَأمِن رَجاءَكَ لا الأَطوادُ مورِقَةٌ

يَوماً وَلا جَندَلُ البَقعاءِ مُعتَصَرُ

Lower your hopes: mountains will never put forth leaves

Ever, nor can the rocks of al-Baq‘a be pressed for juice.

لَيلٌ مِنَ الهَمِّ لا يُدعى السَميرُ لَهُ

أَعمى المَطالِعِ لا نَجمٌ وَلا سَحَرُ

A night of sorrow for which no companion is summoned,

Blind at its horizons, with neither star nor hint of dawn.

أُنَقِّلُ النَفسَ من صَبرٍ إِلى جَزَعٍ

وَالصَبرُ أَعوَدُ إِلّا أَنَّهُ صَبِرُ

I shift my soul from patience to anguish,

And patience serves better, though it is bitter aloe.