إن لم أقف حيث جيش الموت يزدحم — Haidar Alheli

إن لم أقف حيثُ جيش الموت يزدحمُ

فلا مشت بِيَ في طُرقِ العلا قدمُ

If I do not stand where death's army crowds,

may no foot carry me along the paths of glory.

لا بدَّ أن أتداوى بالقنا فلقد

صبرتُ حتَّى فؤادي كلّه ألم

I must find my cure in spears, for I have

endured until my whole heart is pain.

عندي من العزم سرٌّ لا أبوحُ به

حتَّى تبوحَ به الهنديّة الخُذم

Within me is a secret of resolve I will not divulge

until the keen Indian swords divulge it.

لا أرضعت لي العلا ابناً صفو درَّتِها

إن هكذا ظلَّ رُمحي وهو مُنفطمُ

May glory never nurse a son of mine with her purest milk

if my spear remains thus, weaned.

إليةً بضبا قومي التي حَمِدت

قدماً مواقعَها الهيجاءُ لا القِممُ

I swear by my people's sword-edges, which were praised

of old for their blows by battle—not by the heads they struck.

لأحلِبنَّ ثدي الحرب وهي قناً

لِبانُها من صدور الشوسِ وهو دمُ

I shall surely milk war's breast, made of spears,

its milk drawn from fierce warriors' chests—and that milk is blood.

مالي أُسالم قوماً عندهم تِرتي

لا سالمتني يدُ الأيَّام إن سَلِموا

Why should I make peace with those against whom I have a blood-debt?

May the hand of time grant me no peace if they go unharmed.

مَن حامِلٌ لوليّ الأمرِ مألكةً

تُطوى على نفثاتٍ كلها ضَرم

Who will carry to the Master of the Command a message

folded around breaths that are all flame?

يا بن الأُلى يُقعِدون الموتَ إن نهضت

بهم لدى الروعِ في وجه الضُبا الهِممُ

O son of those who bring death low when they are lifted

by high resolve, amid terror, to face sword-edges!

الخيلُ عندك ملَّتها مرابطها

والبيضُ منها عَرى أغمادَها السأمُ

Your horses' tethering-places have grown weary of them;

and the bright swords have brought weariness upon their scabbards.

هذي الخدور ألا عدَّاءَ هاتكةً

وذي الجباه ألا مشحوذةً تسم

These curtained chambers—will no swift charger rend them?

And these foreheads—will no whetted blade brand them?

لا تطهرُ الأرضُ من رجسِ العدى أبداً

ما لم يَسِل فوقها سيل الدمِ العرم

The earth will never be cleansed of the enemies' filth

unless a raging torrent of blood flows over it,

بحيثُ موضع كلٍّ منهم لك في

دماه تغسِله الصمصامةُ الخذمُ

so that each one's place is, for you,

washed in his own blood by the keen, unyielding sword.

أُعيذ سيفَكَ أن تصدى حديدتهُ

ولم تكن فيه تُجلى هذه الغِمم

I seek protection for your sword, lest its iron rust

while these sorrows remain uncleared by it.

قد آن أن يمطرَ الدنيا وساكِنها

دماً أغرَّ عليه النقعُ مرتكم

The time has come for him to rain on the world and its inhabitants

bright blood, with dust heaped upon it:

حرَّان تدمغ هامَ القومِ صاعقةٌ

من كفِّه وهي السيفُ الذي علموا

one burning with thirst, a thunderbolt smiting the people's heads

from his hand—the sword they know.

نهضاً فمن بظُباكم هامهُ فلقت

ضرباً على الدين فيه اليومَ يحتكم

Rise! Those whose heads were split by your sword-edges

with blows now sit in judgment over the faith.

وتلك أنفالُكم في الغاصِبينَ لكم

مقسومةٌ وبعينِ الله تُقتسم

And those spoils of yours among the usurpers are

allotted to you, and shared out beneath God's gaze.

جرائم آذنتهم أن تعاجلَهم

بالانتقام فهلاّ أنت منتقم

Their crimes have warned them that you would swiftly overtake them

with vengeance—why, then, are you not avenging?

وإنَّ أعجب شيء أن أبثَّكها

كأَنَّ قلبك خالٍ وهو مُحتدم

And the strangest thing is that I should confide them to you,

as though your heart were empty, when it is ablaze.

ما خلتُ تقعد حتَّى تُستثارَ لهم

وأنتَ أنت وهم فيما جنوهُ همُ

I never thought you would sit idle until roused against them,

you being who you are, and they, in their crimes, who they are.

لم تُبقِ أسيافهم منكم على ابن تقًى

فكيف تُبقي عليهم لا أباً لهمُ

Their swords spared no son of piety among you;

how, then, can you spare them—may they be fatherless!

فلا وصفحِكَ إنَّ القوم ما صفحوا

ولا وحلمكَ إنَّ القومَ ما حلموا

No, by your forgiveness, those people never forgave;

nor, by your forbearance, did those people show forbearance.

فَحملَ أُمك قدماً أسقطوا حنقاً

وطفل جدّك في سهمِ الردى فطموا

Long ago, in rancor, they made your mother lose her unborn child,

and weaned your grandfather's infant with death's arrow.

لا صبرَ أو تضعَ الهيجاءُ ما حملت

بطلقةٍ معها ماءُ المخاضِ دمُ

No patience, until battle delivers what it carries,

with a birth-pang whose waters are blood.

هذا المحرّم قد وافتك صارخةً

ممَّا استحلُّوا به أيامهُ الحُرمُ

This is Muharram; there have come to you, crying out,

at what they deemed lawful within it, its sacred days.

يملأنَ سمعكَ من أصوات ناعيةٍ

في مسمع الدهر من إعوالها صمم

They fill your hearing with a mourning woman's cries,

whose wailing has deafened the ear of time.

تنعى إليك دماءً غاب ناصرُها

حتَّى أُريقت ولم يرفع لكم علم

She mourns to you blood whose defender was absent

until it was spilled, with no banner raised for you;

مسفوحةً لم تُجب عند استغاثتِها

إلاَّ بأدمع ثكلى شفَّها الألمُ

blood shed, unanswered in its cry for help

save by the tears of a bereaved mother worn thin by pain.

حنَّت وبين يديها فِتيةٌ شَرِبت

من نحرها نُصبَ عينيها الضُّبا الخُذمُ

She moaned, and before her lay young men whose throats

the keen sword-edges drank from before her eyes.

مُوسّدين على الرمضاءِ تنظرهم

حرَّى القلوب على ورد الردى ازدحموا

She sees them pillowed on the burning sand,

parched of heart, thronging death's watering-place.

سقياً لثاوينَ لم تَبلل مضاجِعَهم

إلاَّ الدماءُ وإلاّ الأدمُعُ السجم

May those lying there be watered; their resting-places were wetted

only by blood and streaming tears.

أفناهُمُ صَبرهم تحت الضُّبا كرماً

حتَّى قضوا ورداهم ملؤه كرمُ

Their noble endurance beneath the sword-edges consumed them,

until they died, their death filled with nobility.

وخائضينَ غمار الموت طافحةً

أمواجُها البيضُ بالهاماتِ تَلتطمُ

And those who plunged into death's overflowing depths,

its waves the bright blades, crashing against heads.

مشوا إلى الحرب مشي الضارياتِ لها

فصارعوا الموتَ فيها والقنا أُجمُ

They walked to war as beasts of prey advance upon it,

and wrestled death there, while the spears were thickets.

ولا غضاضة يوم الطفِّ أن قُتلوا

صبراً بهيجاء لم تثبت لها قدم

Nor was there shame, on the day of al-Taff, in their being killed

steadfastly in a battle where no foot could stand firm.

فالحرب تعلم إن ماتوا بها فلَقَد

ماتت بها مِنهم الأسيافُ لا الهِممُ

For war knows that, if they died in it, then surely

their swords died there, not their resolve.

أبكيهم لعوادي الخيل إن ركبت

رؤسها لم تكفكف عزمَها اللجم

I weep for them for the charging horses that, when they went headlong,

no bridles could curb their resolve;

وللسيوف إذا الموت الزؤامُ غدا

في حدِّها هو والأرواحُ يختصِمُ

and for the swords, when deadly death came

to contend upon their edges with souls;

وحائراتٍ أطارَ القومُ أعيُنَها

رُعباً غداة عليها خِدرَها هَجموا

and for bewildered women whose eyes the people sent darting

with terror that morning, when they stormed their curtained shelter.

كانت بحيثُ عليها قومُها ضربت

سُرادقاً أرضُهُ من عزِّهم حرمُ

They had dwelt where their people had pitched around them

a pavilion whose ground their might made sacred.

يكاد من هيبةٍ أن لا يطوفَ به

حتَّى الملائكُ لولا أنَّهم خَدمُ

Such was its awe that scarcely anyone could circle it,

not even the angels, were they not its servants.

فغودرت بين أيدي القوم حاسرةً

تُسبى وليس لها مَن فيه تَعتصِمُ

Yet they were left bareheaded in those people's hands,

led captive, with no one in whom to find refuge.

نعم لوت جيدَها بالعتب هاتِفةً

بقومِها وحشاها ملؤه ضَرمُ

Yes, they turned their necks in reproach, calling

to their people, their hearts filled with flame.

عجَّت بهم مُذ على أبرادها اختلفت

أيدي العدوِّ ولكن مَن لَها بِهم

They cried to them when their robes were handled

by enemy hands—but who could bring their people to their aid?

نادت ويا بُعدهم عنها مُعاتِبةً

لهم ويا ليتهم من عتبها أمم

They called in reproach—how far away their people were!—

to them; would that they were near enough to hear the rebuke!

قومي الأُلى عُقدت قِدماً مآزرُهم

على الحميَّة ما ضِيموا ولا اهتضموا

My people, who long ago bound their waistcloths

for honor's defense, neither wronged nor oppressed!

عهدي بهم قِصرُ الأعمارِ شأنهمُ

لا يهرمون وللهيّابة الهرم

I knew them for short lives; that was their way:

they did not grow old; old age was for the fearful.

ما بالُهُم لا عَفت منهم رسومهُم

قرُّوا وقد حملتنا الأنيقُ الرسم

What ails them—may their traces never be effaced!—

that they lie still, while swift-trotting she-camels have carried us away?

يا غادياً بمطايا العزم حمّلها

همًّا تضيق به الأضلاع والحُزم

O traveler setting out on the mounts of resolve, load them

with a sorrow that ribs and saddle-girths cannot contain.

عرِّج على الحيِّ من عمرو العلى وأرح

منهم بحيثُ اطمأنَّ البأس والكرم

Turn aside to the clan of Amr al-Ula, and rest

among them, where valor and nobility dwell secure.

وحيّ منهم حماةً ليس بابنِهمُ

مَن لا يرفُّ عليه في الوغى العلم

And greet their defenders; no true son of theirs is he

over whom no banner flutters in battle.

المشبعين قِرًى طيرَ السما ولهم

بمنعة الجار فيهم يشهدُ الحرم

Those who sate the birds of heaven with guests' fare; for them

the sanctuary attests the inviolability of neighbors in their midst.

والهاشمينَ وكلُّ الناسِ قد علموا

بأنَّ للضيف أو للسيف ما هشموا

And the breakers—all people have known

that what they broke was for the guest or for the sword.

كماةُ حربٍ ترى في كلّ باديةٍ

قتلى بأسيافهم لم تحوها الرجم

Champions of war: in every wilderness you see

men slain by their swords, unenclosed by burial cairns.

كأَنَّ كلّ فلاً دارٌ لهم وبها

عيالها الوحش أو أضيافها الرُخم

As though every wasteland were their home, and there

its dependents were wild beasts, or its guests were vultures.

قِف منهم موقفاً تغلي القلوبُ به

من فورة العتب واسأل ما الذي بهم

Stand among them where hearts boil

with the surge of reproach, and ask what ails them.

جَفَّت عزائمُ فهرٍ أم تُرى بَردت

منها الحمية أم قد ماتت الشيم

Have Fihr's resolves dried up, or has

its zeal for honor cooled, or its noble character died?

أم لم تجد لذعَ عتبي في حشاشتها

فقد تساقَطَ جمراً من فمي الكلم

Or has it not felt my rebuke's sting in its last spark of life?

For my words have fallen from my mouth as embers.

أين الشهامة أم أين الحفاظ أما

يأبى لها شرفُ الأحسابِ والكرم

Where is gallantry, and where the defense of honor? Will not

its noble ancestry and generosity refuse this?

تُسبى حرائرها بالطفّ حاسرةً

ولم تكن بغُبار الموت تلتثمُ

Its freeborn women are taken captive at al-Taff, bareheaded,

while it has not veiled itself in the dust of death.

لمن أُعدَّت عتاقُ الخيل إن قعدت

عن موقفٍ هُتكت منها به الحرم

For whom were the thoroughbred horses readied, if it stayed idle

before a stand where its sanctities were violated?

فما اعتذارُكِ يا فهرٌ ولم تثبي

بالبيض تُثلم أو بالسمر تنحطم

What excuse have you, O Fihr, when you did not spring forth

with bright swords to be notched, or dusky spears to be shattered?

أجل نساؤكِ قد هزَّتكِ عاتِبةً

وأنتِ من رقدةٍ تحت الثرى رمم

Yes, your women have shaken you with reproach,

while you, asleep beneath the earth, are crumbling remains.

فلتُلفت الجيدَ عَنك اليوم خائبةً

فما غناؤكِ حالت دونكِ الرجم

Let them turn their necks away from you today, disappointed;

for what help can you give? Burial cairns bar the way to you.