قومي اسمعي يا بنت جاري — Fahad Alaskar

قومي اسمعي يا بنتَ جاري

شكوى الهزار إلى الهزارِ

Rise and listen, O my neighbor's daughter,

to a nightingale's lament to a nightingale:

شكوى الحبيسِ المستجير

منَ الطليقِ المستطارِ

the lament of a captive seeking refuge

from the free bird, startled into flight;

شكوى صريعِ الكاسِ كأسِ الص

ابِ لا كأسِ العُقارِ

the lament of one felled by the cup—the cup of bitter

sap, not the cup of wine;

شكوى لها اضطرَبَت لفَ

رط الحُزنِ احشاءُ الدراري

a lament that made tremble, from overwhelming

grief, the very hearts of the stars.

والبدرُ كم ودَّ الهُوِيَّ

لمسحِ أدمعهِ الجَواري

How often the full moon wished to descend

to wipe his flowing tears!

صبَّت عليهِ طُيوفُ ماضي

هِ القريبِ سياطَ نارِ

The phantoms of his past poured upon him

—his recent past—lashes of fire.

للَهِ ما لاقى وكابَد

في جحيمِ الإدّكار

God, what he faced and endured

in the hell of recollection!

يا ابنَ النهارِ وكَم شكا اب

نُ الليلِ من طولِ النهارِ

O son of daylight, how often has the son

of night complained of daylight's length!

أيّامَ كُنّا والكواشِحُ

هُجَّعٌ خَلفَ الستارِ

In the days when we were together, and the ill-wishers

lay asleep behind the curtain,

هل كان منّا حظّهُم

إذ ذاكَ غيرُ الإندِحارِ

was their portion from us

then anything but defeat?

في معقلٍ لم نَخشَ قطّ

بهِ الطوارقَ والطواري

In a stronghold where we never feared

night intruders and unforeseen troubles,

والسعدُ خُدنٌ والصِبا

ريّانٌ في قربِ المزارِ

good fortune was a close companion, and youth

was lush, with our meeting place nearby.

لا روضُهُ استسقى السم

ماءَ ولا خمائِلُه عواري

Its garden never begged the

sky for rain, nor were its groves bare.

والطيرُ نشوى في مناب

رِهِ فمن مُصغٍ وقاري

The birds were intoxicated upon its

pulpits—some listening, some reciting.

وزمامُ مَن أهواهُ في

اليُمنى وكاسي في يَساري

The reins of the one I love were in

my right hand, and my cup in my left.

لا أشتكي برحَ الصدودِ

ولم أذُق ألمَ الخمار

I did not complain of rejection's anguish,

nor taste the pain of a hangover.

فبذاكَ تجنيحُ المُنى

وبتلكَ إطفاءُ الأوارِ

With that, wishes were given wings;

with this, burning thirst was quenched.

من جُلّنارِ خدودهِ

نُقلي ومن آسِ العذارِ

From the pomegranate blossoms of his cheeks

came my tidbits, and from the myrtle of his cheek-down.

وأقاحِ ثَغرِ كم نظَم

تُ ببنتهِ إكليلَ غاري

And the daisies of a mouth—how often I wove

with its daughter my laurel wreath!

قُبَلٌ بها رفَّت منى

نَفسي على قدَحي المدارِ

Kisses, through which the wishes of

my soul fluttered over my cup passed round.

بأبي بياضاً في احمرارٍ

واحمِراراً في اخضِرارِ

My father be ransom for whiteness within redness,

and redness within greenness!

وبِمُهجَتي خَفَراً ودَلّاً

دونَهُ دَلُّ العذاري

And my life's blood for bashfulness and coquetry

surpassing the coquetry of maidens!

ذَوبُ اللجينِ غبوقُنا

وصَبوحُنا ذَوبُ النُضارِ

Our evening draught was molten silver,

and our morning draught molten gold.

لم تخبُ من بنتِ النخيلِ

ولا ابنَةِ العُنقودِ ناري

My fire never died with the daughter of the palms,

nor with the daughter of the grape-cluster.

كم بينَ تلكَ وهذهِ

مِن حجَّةٍ لي واعتمارِ

How many, between that one and this,

were my pilgrimages and lesser pilgrimages!

يصحو فيَهتفُ بي بدارِ

وكم هتَفتُ بهِ بدارِ

He wakes and calls to me, 'Hurry!'

And how often I have called to him, 'Hurry!'

فَرَنا وهبَّ فجنَّحَت

قلبي حُمَيّا الإحوِرارِ

He gazed and rose; then wings were given

to my heart by the intoxication of his dark eyes.

ولَثمتُهُ وبثَثتهُ

شَكوايَ همساً من حذارِ

I kissed him and confided to him

my complaint, whispering out of fear.

وهَصَرتُ بانةَ قدّهِ

فحَسا الصبوحَ على اهتِصاري

I drew close the bān-tree of his figure,

and he sipped the morning draught as I clasped him.

وافتَرَّ مَبسمهُ فيا

لجمالِ ذاكَ الإفترارِ

His mouth opened in a smile—oh,

the beauty of that smile!

فيَخالُنا الرائي قُبَيلَ

العودِ من رميِ الجمارِ

An onlooker would take us, just before

returning from the casting of the pebbles,

ملَكَين في دُنيا الغرامِ

منَ الملائكَةِ الخيارِ

for two angels in the world of passion,

among the choicest angels,

هبَطا بأجنِحَةِ الهوى

والوجدِ والشوقِ المثارِ

who descended on the wings of love,

ardor, and awakened longing.

أحضانهُ حرمي الشريفُ

وضوءُ مفرقهِ مناري

His embrace is my holy sanctuary,

and the light of his hair-parting my beacon.

وجمالُه فردَوسُ روحي

كم جنَت أشهى الثمارِ

His beauty is my soul's paradise:

how often it harvested the choicest fruits!

وعُيونهُ توحي على

همسِ النسيماتِ السواري

His eyes give inspiration amid

the whisper of night-roaming breezes.

فأصوغُ من إلهامِها

غُرَراً ولم أعدِم قراري

So I fashion from their inspiration

gems, without losing my poise,

بلباقةٍ ورشاقَةٍ

ووضوحِ معنىً باقتِدارِ

with tact and grace,

clarity of meaning, and mastery.

أشدو وكَم أسكَرتُ أرواحنا

بموسيقى ابتِكاري

I sing—how often I intoxicated our souls

with the music of my own invention!

وسَكَبتُ لحناً عسكريّاً

دونهُ وقَفَ المُباري

I poured forth a martial melody,

short of which the rival halted.

فَسَلِ البلابِلَ في الجنائنِ

عن لحوني والقماري

Ask the nightingales in the gardens

about my melodies—and the turtledoves too.

تُنبيكَ عن إعجابها

بجَمالِ ذوقي واختياري

They will tell you of their admiration

for the beauty of my taste and choice.

ومُعَنِّفٍ وافى فأخرَسَهُ

انتِهاري وازوِراري

A reproacher came, only to be silenced

by my rebuke and my turning away.

يا لائِمي هذا شعاري في

الهوى هذا شِعاري

O you who blame me, this is my creed in

love—this is my creed.

ثَكِلَتكَ أمُّكَ أيّ إثمٍ

في التمازجِ أيُّ عارِ

May your mother lose you! What sin

is there in mingling, what disgrace?

ما للأحِبَّةِ في الوصال

وللتَزَمُّتِ والوقارِ

What have lovers, when united,

to do with prudery and decorum?

ما جنَّحَ الأرواحَ فانطَلَقَت

سوى خلعِ العذارِ

What gave souls wings and set them free

but casting off the bridle?

يا ابن النهارِ وكم شكا اب

نُ الليلِ من قِصَرِ النهار

O son of daylight, how often has the son

of night complained of daylight's brevity!

لمَ لا وبَدري غَيَّبوه

بما أثاروا من غُبار

Why not, when they have hidden my full moon

with the dust they stirred up?

فهوَيتُ من أفقِ الرُؤى

وهَبَطتُ من أوجِ ازدِهاري

So I fell from the horizon of visions

and descended from the zenith of my flourishing,

لهفان مشبوبَ الحشا

مُتمَلمِلاً في عُقر داري

distraught, my inward parts ablaze,

restless in the heart of my home.

أبني القوافي ذاهلاً

من وَحي أدمُعيَ الغِزارِ

I build my rhymes, bewildered,

from the inspiration of my copious tears.

لم أدرِ حينَ يُقيمُني

فَزَعي ويُقعِدُني افتِقاري

I knew not, when I was made to rise

by my panic, and brought down by my poverty,

واليَأسُ يَدفَعُني ويجذِ

بُني ازدِرائي واحتِقاري

while despair drove me forward and I was pulled

back by my disdain and contempt,

أأنا شَريدٌ في المهامَهِ

أم غريقٌ في البحارِ

whether I was an outcast in the wastes

or someone drowning in the seas.

فكَأَنّني الكُرَةُ الكبيرةُ

بين صِبيانٍ صِغارِ

I seemed a large ball

among little boys,

أو أنَّني قلبُ المجازِفِ

حولَ مائدَةِ القمارِ

or the heart of a gambler

around the gaming table,

أو أَنَّني روحُ المف

ارِقِ في فِراشِ الإحتَضار

or the soul of one departing

upon the bed of dying.

ومُهَفهفٍ لم يَرعَ لي

حقَّ المودّةِ والجوارِ

And a slender beauty who did not honor

my right to affection and neighborliness—

لم أجنِ من غرسي لهُ

غير التنكُّرِ والنفارِ

from what I planted for him I reaped

nothing but rejection and aversion.

هيهات لا علمي افادَ به

ولا أغنى اختباري

All in vain! My knowledge helped not with him,

nor did my experience avail.

كلّا ولا أجدى اصطباري

لا ولا طولُ انتِظاري

No—nor did my patient endurance help,

no, nor my long waiting.

رشأٌ وهَبتُ لهُ الشب

بابَ فكان عنوانَ افتِخاري

A fawn to whom I gave

my youth became the emblem of my pride.

فطغى ويا لِتَحَكُّمِ الغِزلانِ

بالأُسدِ الضواري

Then he grew tyrannical—oh, the rule of gazelles

over ferocious lions!

هل يطّبيهِ حين يكسِ

رُ جفنَهُ إلّا انكساري

Does anything charm him, when he lowers

his eyelid, but my brokenness?

أو يَنتَشي إلّا بدَمعي

حينَ يُذنِبُ واعتِذاري

Or does he grow ecstatic except at my tears

when he errs, and at my apology?

أو يَرتجي إلّا قُنوطي

ليسَ إلّا وانتِحاري

Or does he hope for anything but my despair,

nothing else, and my suicide?

أو يَبتَغي إلّا انقِباضي في

التداني وانِحصاري

Or does he seek anything but my shrinking back in

nearness, and my confinement?

أو حينَ يوقدُ نارَها

هل حازَ غيرَ الإنتِصارِ

Or, when he kindles its fire,

has he gained anything but victory?

أو سرَّهُ إلّا نُحولي

في هواهُ واصفِراري

Or has anything pleased him but my wasting away

in love for him, and my pallor?

يا للتَصلّبِ والتمرّدِ

والعِنادِ والاغتِرارِ

Oh, such obstinacy and rebellion,

such stubbornness and conceit!

يا بنتَ جاري آهِ من

بجورِ القضا يا بنتَ جاري

O my neighbor's daughter, ah, for

the injustice of fate, O my neighbor's daughter!

في ذمَّةِ الأقدارِ ما

شيَّعتُ في ذاكَ الحوارِ

On fate's conscience rests what

I bade farewell to in that dialogue:

دُنيا من الأحلامِ أسلَمَها

القضاءُ إلى الدمارِ

a world of dreams surrendered

by fate to destruction,

وصُروحُ آمالٍ عَلَيها

قد قضى بالإنهيارِ

and towers of hope upon which

it has decreed collapse.

يا للشقاءِ وللِعناءِ

وللضياعِ وللخَسار

Oh, the wretchedness and suffering,

the loss and ruin!

لهفي على تلكَ اللُييلاتِ

المنوِّرَةِ القِصار

How I yearn for those little nights,

so radiant and so brief!

شوقي لها مُذ غُيِّبَت

شوق الفقير إلى اليَسارِ

Since they were hidden away, my longing for them

is a poor man's longing for wealth,

أو شوق من غاصَ البحارَ

إلى اللآلىءِ في المحارِ

or the longing of one who dives into the seas

for pearls inside their shells,

أو شوق قيسٍ وهو يَطوي

في هوى ليلى البراري

or Qays's longing as he traverses,

in love for Layla, the wilderness,

أو شوق لَيثِ الغابِ في القفَصِ

الصغيرِ إلى القِفارِ

or a forest lion's longing, in a cage

so small, for the open wastes.

يا معشَرَ الشعَراءِ والأدبا

ءِ في شتّى الديارِ

O company of poets and writers

throughout the many lands!

هيضَ الجناحُ وضِقتُ

ذَرعاً بالجناحِ المستعارِ

The wing is broken, and I have grown

weary of the borrowed wing.

ومضى الشبابُ وهذه

شكوى جريحٍ في الإسارِ

Youth has passed, and this

is the lament of a wounded captive.

ما كُنتُ أشكو بل أُصيخُ

لمن شكا لولا اضطِراري

I would not complain, but rather listen

to those who complain, were I not compelled.

ماذا وراءَ الضغطِ إذ

يشتَدُّ غيرُ الإنفجارِ

What follows pressure, when

it intensifies, but an explosion?

واللَهِ لو يَشفي انتِقامي

غُلّتي لأخَذتُ ثاري

By God, if my revenge would quench

my burning thirst, I would take my vengeance

مِن معشَرٍ نَشاوا بأحض

ضانِ السفالةِ والشنارِ

upon a people raised in the arms

of baseness and disgrace.

لصَقوا المثالِبَ بي وكُلَّ

مثالبي عدمُ اتّجاري

They pinned faults upon me, yet all

my faults amount to my not trading.

ماذا أقولُ بهم وهُم

حُمُرٌ لربّاتِ الخمارِ

What can I say of them, when they

are asses for the women of the veil?

ما راعَ يا للغبنِ مثل

الليثِ يشكو من حمارِ

Nothing appalls—oh, the injustice!—like

a lion complaining of an ass.

أسفاً على عمرٍ تقضّى

بين أطفالٍ كبارِ

Alas for a lifetime spent

among overgrown children,

بينَ المنافقِ والمخادعِ

والمداجي والمداري

among the hypocrite and the deceiver,

the dissembler and the appeaser.

غرسوا فَقُل لي هل جنَوا

غيرَ المذلّةِ والصغارِ

They planted—tell me, did they reap

anything but humiliation and abasement?

متذّئبونَ ولو ثغَت

شاةٌ للاذوا بالفِرارِ

They pose as wolves, yet should there bleat

a sheep, they would seek refuge in flight.

يا ناسُ قد أدمى اغترابي

مهجتي والدار داري

O people, my estrangement has bloodied

my heart, though the home is my own.

أُصغي فلم أسمَع بها

غير النهيقِ أو الخوارِ

I listen, but have heard within it

nothing but braying or lowing.

أنا لم أجد فيها غيوراً

قامَ من درَكِ العثارِ

I found no one there with a sense of honor

who rose from the depths of stumbling.

فمظاهرٌ خلّابةٌ

والآلُ يخدعُ في الصحاري

So there are beguiling appearances,

and the mirage deceives in the deserts.