هل عمروا الأفق بالآرام والعفر — ابن عبدون الفهري

هَل عَمَّروا الأُفقَ بِالآرامِ وَالعَفَرِ

أَم كَحَّلوا الشُهبَ بِالتَفتيرِ وَالحورِ

Have they peopled the horizon with white gazelles and tawny ones?

Or have they kohl-lined the bright stars with languor and dark-eyed beauty?

وَالنَقعُ قَد مَدَّ جُنحَ اللَيلِ فَوقَهُم

أَم عَينُهُم لا تَرى التَضفيرَ في الشَعرِ

And dust has spread night's wing above them—

Or can their eyes not see the braiding in the hair?

يا لَيلُ هَل صاحِبٌ في البيدِ غَيرُكَ لي

فَالنَجمُ مُعيٍ عَنِ الإِدلاجِ وَالسَهَرِ

O night, have I any companion in the deserts besides you?

For the star is too weary for night travel and vigil.

أسري وَأسربُ لا مُستَصحباً أَحَداً

وَالناسُ عميانُ لَولا الخُبرُ عَن خَبَرِ

I travel by night and roam, taking no one along,

And people would be blind but for knowledge drawn from report.

أَدورُ فيهِم وَعمرانُ يُخاطِبُهُم

مِنّي وَهُم فِيَّ مِن رَوحٍ وَمِن زُفَرِ

I move among them, and ʿImran addresses them

Through me; within me they are solace and sighs.

شادٍ وَلَيسَ لِسانُ الرَعدِ ذا لَسَنٍ

هادٍ وَما ناظِرُ الإيماضِ ذا نَظَرِ

A singer, though thunder's tongue has no eloquence;

A guide, though lightning's eye has no sight.

كَأَنَّما اللَيلُ زارَ الأَرضَ ذا شَغَفٍ

فَأَكبَرَت وَصلَ أَحوى اللَونِ ذا عَوَرِ

As though night visited the earth, filled with passion,

So she marveled at union with one dark in hue and blind in one eye.

كَأَنَّها عبلةٌ وَاللَيلُ عَنتَرَةٌ

في جَمعِ أَشتاتِهِ لَو كانَ ذا بَصَرِ

As though she were ʿAbla, and night were ʿAntarah,

In gathering his scattered parts—if he had sight.

وَالأَرضُ قَد لَبِسَت أَدراعَ أَبحُرِها

وَجَرَّدَت فَوقَ أَيديها ظُبا الغدرِ

And the earth had donned the mail-coats of her seas,

And drawn above her hands the blades of pools:

مِن كُلِّ درعٍ نَسيمُ الريحِ غَضَّنَها

وَصارِمٌ بِالحبابِ اِعتاضَ مِن أَثَرِ

Each mail-coat wrinkled by the wind's breeze,

And each keen blade trading its steel-patterning for foam.

ما كانَ في هَيئَةِ الأَرضِ القِيامُ لَنا

بِاللَيلِ لَولا مَزيدٌ مِن سَنا عُمرِ

The earth was in no condition to rise for us

At night, but for added light from ʿUmar's radiance.

مَن مَجدُهُ خَصَّ قَحطاناً وَأَنعُمُهُ

عَمَّت رَبيعَةَ وَالحَمراءَ مِن مُضَرِ

He whose glory was reserved for Qahtan, while his favors

Embraced Rabiʿah and Mudar the Red.

أَكسى مِن الكَعبَةِ الزَهراء مِن نَشَبٍ

أَعرى عَلى لبسِهِ العَليا مِنَ الحَجَرِ

More richly clothed in wealth than the radiant Kaaba,

Yet barer than stone, though clothed in lofty honor.

بِسَيفِهِ اِنتاشَ سَيفٌ جَدُّهُ يَمَناً

لا سَيف وَهرزٍ المَحدود بِالنَفَرِ

With his sword, Sayf, his forefather, rescued Yemen—

Not Wahraz's sword, limited to a band of men.

أَنتُم عَنى مُسلِمٌ يا آلَ مَسلَمَةٍ

بِالجودِ إِذ لَم يُنازِعهُ بَنو مَطَرِ

You are whom Muslim meant, O house of Maslamah,

In generosity, when the sons of Matar did not rival him.

وَلَم يُرِد مَطَراً جَدَّ اليَزيد وَلا

كِن مِن نَدى جَدِّكُم سَمّاهُ بِالمَطَرِ

And he did not mean Matar, al-Yazid's forefather, but—

For your forefather's dew-like bounty, he named him 'Rain'.

لَولاكُم أَهلَكَ الناسَ اِستِواؤُهُم

وَلَم يَكونوا سِوى دُهمٍ بِلا غُرَرِ

Were it not for you, people's sameness would destroy them,

And they would be only black horses without white blazes.

كَم في سُرادِقكُم مِن ماجِدٍ عَمِمٍ

يُعطي الجَزيلَ وَمَأوى الخائِفِ الحَذِرِ

How many a noble, towering man is in your pavilion,

Who gives lavish gifts and is a refuge for the fearful and wary.

لَمّا رَأَوا أَنَّهُ لا عَيبَ يُدرِكُهُ

عابوهُ وَهوَ الكَبيرُ القَدرِ بِالقصرِ

When they saw that no flaw could reach him,

They faulted him for shortness, though great in worth.

وَالصُبحُ مُبدي رُبى نَجدٍ وَإِن صَغُرَت

وَاللَيلُ يَستُرُ لبناناً عَلى الكِبرِ

And dawn reveals Najd's hills, small though they are;

While night conceals Lebanon, for all its size.