أطفىء ضياك وأظلم مثل إظلامي — Elias Abu Shabaki

أَطفىء ضياكَ وَأَظلِم مِثلَ إِظلامي

وَخلِّني في كَوابيسي وَأَحلامي

Extinguish your light and darken as I am dark.

And leave me in my nightmares and my dreams.

فَرُبَّ نيِّرَةٍ يا لَيلُ توقِظُني

إِلى العَفافِ فَأَنسى عِبءَ آثامي

For many a gleam, O night, awakens me

To chastity, so I forget the burden of my sins.

أَحسُ في جَسَدي شَوقاً يُعَذِّبُني

فَفي دَمي سورَة كَالخَمرِ في جامي

I feel in my body a longing that torments me,

For in my blood is a surge, like wine in my cup.

لَم يَبقَ في حِفنَتي نارٌ لِغَير هَوىً

يودي بِجِسمي كَما أودى بِأَجسامِ

No fire remains in my cupped hand for anything but passion

That destroys my body, as it has destroyed bodies.

حُبّي النَقِيُّ كَإيماني القَديمِ مَضى

وَهمٌ هَذيتُ بهِ من بَعضِ أَوهامي

My pure love, like my old faith, has passed away—

A delusion I raved about, one of my delusions.

أَترى الغُصنَ مُذ يَمُرُّ عَلَيهِ

عاصِفُ الريحِ كَيفَ تذوي زُهورُه

Do you see the branch, when over it passes

The raging wind, how its flowers wither?

هكَذا القَلبُ حينَ تَلبِسُه

الآثامُ يَقسو وَقَد يَجِفُّ شُعورُه

So too the heart, when it is clothed

By sins, hardens, and its feeling may dry up.

يا حَسرَة اللَيلِ كَم توحينَ من حُلُم

ميتٍ لِقَلبٍ بَغيٍّ أُختِ آلامِ

O sorrow of the night, how many dreams you inspire,

Dead, in the heart of a harlot, a sister of sorrows,

أَو قَلب أَرمَلَة جار الزَمانُ عَلى

عَفافِها فَأَماتَت قَلبَها الظامي

Or in a widow's heart—time assailed

Her chastity, so she killed her thirsting heart.

مَهما يَكُن سَبب اِستِسلامِها أَهَوىً

في النَفسِ أَم كانَ إِنقاذاً لِأَيتامِ

Whatever the cause of her surrender—was it passion

In her soul, or was it the rescue of orphans—

فَلتَقضِ شَهوَتِها حَتّى يُهَدِّمها

ما كانَ في صَدرِها مِن عُهرِها الدامي

Let her satisfy her lust until she is destroyed

By the bloody debauchery that lay in her breast,

وَتُنجزَ الشَهوَةُ الحَمراءِ دورَتَها

فَيمحي رَحمٌ مِن بَينِ أَرحامِ

And let crimson lust complete its cycle,

So a womb is effaced from among wombs.

أَميرَةَ الشَهوَةِ الحَمراءِ إِنَّ دَمي

مِن نَسلِكِ الهادِم المَهدومِ فَاِحتَرِمي

Princess of crimson lust, indeed my blood

Is of your destroying, destroyed lineage; so show respect.

خُلِقتِ تَحتَرفينَ المَوتَ فَاِقتَرِبي

مِنّي فَإِنّي اِحتَرَفتُ المَوتَ مِن قِدَمِ

You were created to ply death as a trade; so draw near

To me, for I have plied death since long ago.

حَملتُ منجلَه في العَهر مُنتَقِماً

مِن النِساءِ فَهاتيهِ لِتَنتَقِمي

I carried its sickle in debauchery, taking revenge

On women; so bring it, that you may take revenge.

هاتي مِن العُهرِ أَشكالاً مُلَوَّنَةً

نمهر بِها بَعضنا بَعضاً وَنَنهَدمِ

Bring colorful forms of debauchery,

With which we brand one another and crumble.

لَقَد تَعِبتُ مِن الأَحلامِ في جَسد

ملَّ العَفافَ بِأَلوانٍ مِنَ الأَلَمِ

I have grown weary of dreams within a body

That tired of chastity amid many kinds of pain.

وَلِنُعاطِ الهَوى لَعَلَّ عَصيراً

مِن ثِمارِ الشَفاهِ وَالأَكبادِ

And let us exchange passion; perhaps a juice

From the fruits of lips and livers...

أَو لَعَلَّ الآثامَ تشرَبُ مِنّا

ما تَبَقّى مِن طهرِ ماءِ العمادِ

Or perhaps sins will drink from us

What remains of the purity of baptismal water.

إِنّا أَتَّحَدنا لِيَومٍ واحِدٍ وَغَداً

يَأتي فَيخلفني قَومٌ بِحُبِّهِمِ

We have united for a single day; and tomorrow

Comes, and people will succeed me with their love.

سَيَعشَقونَكِ يَوماً يَغنَمونَ بِهِ

ما غادَرت مِنكِ ساعاتي لِلَيلِهِمِ

They will love you for a day, gaining thereby

What my hours left of you for their night.

وَسَوفَ تَنسينَ يا أَخت الدما فَمهم

كَما نَسيتِ عَلى رُغمِ الدِماء فَمي

And you will forget their mouths, O sister of blood,

As you forgot my mouth, despite the blood.

عُشرونَ قَلباً شَرِبتِ الحُبَّ مِن دَمِها

وَما شَبِعتِ وَلَم يُشبِعكِ شُربُ دمي

Twenty hearts—you drank love from their blood,

And were not sated, nor did drinking my blood sate you.

إِذن فَسَوفَ تَظل النَفس جائِعَة

حَتّى يَجِف دَمٌ في غِلفِها النَهمِ

Then the soul will remain hungry

Until blood dries in its ravenous sheath.

سَتَرجِعينَ وَلكِن مِثلَ آمالي

جَوفاءَ مَشلولَةً في جِسمِكِ البالي

You will return, but like my hopes,

Hollow and paralyzed in your worn-out body.

سَتَرجعينَ مدمّاةً مُشَوَّهَةً

أَدنى إِلى المَوت مِنّي رُغم أَثقالي

You will return bloodied and disfigured,

Nearer death than I, despite my burdens.

سَترجِعينَ وَلا أقصيكِ عَن جَسَدي

حَتّى تَحلَّ اللَيالي الحُمر أَوصالي

You will return, and I will not banish you from my body,

Until the red nights undo my limbs,

حَتّى يحلَّ وَباءُ الخُلد في كَبدي

وَيَعلقَ العارُ مِن بعدي بِأَذيالي

Until the plague of immortality settles in my liver,

And shame clings to my hems after my passing.

غَيرَ أَنّي وَلي يَراعٌ مدمّى

سَوفَ يَنقى ذِكري وَتَنقى دِمائي

Yet I, who have a bloodied reed pen—

My memory will be purified, and my blood purified.

سَتَقولُ الأَجيالُ كانَ شَقِيّاً

فَليقدَّس فيجملَة الأَشقِياءِ

Generations will say: he was wretched;

Let him be sanctified among the wretched.

وَيَرفَعُ الحُبُّ لي في كُلِّ زاوِيَة

مِن القُلوبِ ضَريحاً خالِداً عالي

And love will raise for me, in every corner

Of hearts, a lofty, immortal shrine.

أَما الشَبابُ فَفي أَقصى سُلالَته

لَن يَنتَسي كَيفَ كانَت في الهَوى حالي

As for youth, in its most distant descendants,

It will not forget what I was like in passion.

سَيَنظُرُ الغَد في أَمسي وَيَغفِرُه

لِأَنَّ قَلبي كَنفسي غَير مُحتالِ

Tomorrow will look into my yesterday and forgive it,

For my heart, like my soul, is without guile.

وَكُلَّما ذَكَر اِسمي مَرَّ في فَمِه

ذِكرُ الَّتي صَقَلَت لِلمَوت أَغلالي

And whenever it recalls my name, across its lips will pass

The memory of her who polished my shackles for death,

ذكرُ الَّتي اِختَصَرَت عُمري بِشَهوَتِها

وَخَلَّدَت عُهرَها الدامي لِأَجيالي

The memory of her who shortened my life with her lust

And immortalized her bloody debauchery for my generations.

أَجل سَتُذَكِّرُكِ الأَعقابُ وَالحقبُ ما دا

مَ في الأَرضِ مِن صُلب الزِنى عَقبُ

Yes, posterity and the ages will remember you, as long as

Offspring from the loins of adultery remain on earth.

لا مِثلَم اذكر الإِفرَنج لورهمُ

وَلا كَما ذَكرت عَفراءُها العربُ

Not as the Franks remembered their Laure,

Nor as the Arabs remembered their Afra,

بَل مِثلَما ذَكَرت روما قَبائِحَها

في مُقلَتي مسلّينا وَهيَ تَضطَرِبُ

But as Rome remembered its abominations

In Messalina's eyes as she writhed.

هذا هوَ اللَيلُ فَاِسقي هاتِفَة

لَعَلَّ في الناسِ قَوماً بَعدُ ما شَرِبوا

This is the night; serve drink, calling aloud,

Perhaps among the people are some who have not yet drunk.

وَسَرِّحي يَدك الصَفراءَ فَوقَ هَوى

يَسيلُ في محجريهِ الجهد وَالتَعَبُ

And let your yellow hand wander over a passion

In whose eye sockets strain and weariness flow.

وَلتَكُن هذِهِ الإِشارَة رَمزاً

لِاِصفِرارٍ عَلى المَلَذّات مرّا

And let this gesture be a symbol

Of a yellowing that has passed over pleasures.

لَوِّنيها بِالاِصفِرارِ إِلى أَن

يَختامَ المَوتُ نَزعَها المُستَمِرّا

Color them yellow until

Death brings their ceaseless death-throes to a close.

أَطفىء ضياكَ فَإِن النورَ يُذكرني

أَمسي وَتقلق روحي هذِهِ الشُهبُ

Extinguish your light, for light reminds me of

My yesterday, and these meteors trouble my soul.

قَد يوقِظ النورُ أَعياداً مُقَدَّسَة

تَشعُّ مِن خَلَل الماضي وَتَلتَهِبُ

Light may awaken sacred feasts

That shine from amid the past and blaze.

أَطفَئهُ يا لَيلُ وَاِغمرني بِحالِكَةٍ

مِنَ الظَلامِ فَأَنسى حينَ أَحتَجِبُ

Extinguish it, O night, and engulf me in blackness

Of darkness, so I forget when I hide away.

أَشقى بِلِذَّتي الحَمراءِ في جَسَدي

وَأَمّحي لا هَوى يَبقى وَلا وَصبُ

I suffer with my crimson pleasure in my body,

And am effaced: neither passion nor pain remains.

خَرَّبتُ قَلبي وَأَطعَمتُ الوُحوشَ دَمي

في كُلِّ مَخلَبِ وَحشٍ مِنهُما خِربُ

I laid waste to my heart and fed the beasts my blood;

In every beast's claw lie ruins of them both.