رعين كما شئن الربيع سوارحا — Ibn Al Mutaz

رَعَينَ كَما شِئنَ الرَبيعَ سَوارِحاً

يَخُضنَ كَلُجِّ البَحرِ بَقلاً وَأَعشابا

They grazed the spring pasture as they pleased, roaming freely,

wading through greens and grasses like the ocean's depths.

إِذا نَسَفَت أَفواهُها النَورَ خِلتَهُ

مَواقِعَ أَجلامٍ عَلى شَعَرٍ شابا

When their mouths stripped away the blossoms, you imagined them

the tracks of shears upon hair grown gray.

فَأَفنَينَ نَبتَ الحائِرينَ وَمائَهُ

وَأَجراعَ وادي النَخلِ أَكلاً وَتَشرابا

They exhausted al-Ha'irayn's growth and water,

and Wadi al-Nakhl's sandy flats, eating and drinking.

حَوامِلُ شَحٍّ جامِدٍ فَوقَ أَظهُرٍ

وَإِن تَستَغِث ضَرّاتُهُنَّ بِهِ ذابا

They carry solidified miserliness upon their backs,

yet if their udders seek its help, it melts.

بِطانُ العَوالي وَالسُيوفِ بِغُرِّها

وَيَكشِرنَ أَضراساً حِداداً وَأَنيابا

A girdle of lances and swords encircles their finest,

baring sharp molars and fangs.

إِذا ما رَعَت يَوماً حَسِبتَ رُعاتَها

عَلى كُلِّ حَيٍّ يَأكُلُ الغَيثَ أَربابا

Whenever they grazed, you would think their herdsmen

lords over every tribe that feeds upon the rain.

فَقَد ثَقَّلَت ظَهرَ البِلادِ نَواهِكاً

إِذا ما رَآها عَينُ حاسِدَها عابا

They have weighed down the land's back, exhausting it;

whenever their envier's eye sees them, he finds fault.

وَكانَ الثَرى فيها مَزاراً مُوَقَّراً

تَضَمَّنَ شَهداً بَل حَلا عَنهُ أَو طابا

The earth within them was a revered shrine,

containing honey—nay, something sweeter or more delicious than it.

إِذا ما بِكاةُ الدَرِّ جادَت بِمَبعَثٍ

كَما سُلَّ خَيطٌ مِن سَدى الثَوبِ فَاِنسابا

When the weepers of milk generously release a stream,

like a thread drawn from a garment's warp, slipping free,

رَأَيتَ اِنهِمارَ الدَرِّ بَينَ فُروجِها

كَما عَصَرَت أَيدي الغَواسِلِ أَثوابا

you see milk pouring between their legs,

as though washerwomen's hands were wringing garments.

كَأَنَّ عَلى حُلّابِهِنَّ سَحائِباً

تَجودُ مِنَ الأَخلافِ سَحّاً وَتَسكابا

As though clouds hung over their milkers,

pouring from the teats in showers and streams.

خَوازِنُ نَحضٍ في الجُلودِ كَأَنَّما

تُحَمَّلُ كُثباناً مِنَ الرَملِ أَصلابا

Storehouses of flesh within their hides, as though

their backbones were laden with dunes of sand.

فَتِلكَ فِداءُ العِرضِ مِن كُلِّ ذيمَةٍ

وَمَفخَرُ حَمدٍ يُبلِغُ الفَخرَ أَعقابا

Those are honor's ransom from every reproach,

and a praiseworthy boast that carries glory to descendants.

وَلَيلَةِ قُرٍّ قَد أَهَنتُ كَريمُها

وَلَم يَكُ بي شَحٌّ عَلى الجودِ غَلّابا

And many a freezing night I held their choicest cheap,

with no miserliness in me prevailing over generosity.

وَقُمتُ إِلى الكَومِ الصَفايا بِمُنصِلي

فَصَيَّرتُها مَجداً لِقَومي وَأَحسابا

I rose with my blade against the choice, high-humped milk-camels,

and made them glory and noble renown for my people.

فَباتَت عَلى أَحجارِنا حَبَشِيَّةٌ

تُخاطِبُ أَمثالاً مِنَ السودِ أَترابا

Then an Abyssinian-black pot spent the night upon our hearthstones,

conversing with her black equals, her age-mates.

يَكادُ يَبُثُّ العَظمَ مارِدُ غَليِها

إِذا لَبِسَت مِن يابِسِ الجَزلِ جِلبابا

The demon of its boiling nearly scattered the bones,

when it donned a cloak of dry, thick firewood,

عِجالاً عَلى الطاهي بِإِنضاجِ لَحمِهِ

سِراعاً بِزادِ الضَيفِ تُلهِبُ إِلهابا

hurrying the cook to finish cooking his meat,

swift with the guest's meal, blazing fiercely.

وَقَد أَغتَدي مِن شَأنِ نَفسي بِسابِحٍ

جَوادٍ كُميتِ اللَونِ يُعجِبُ إِعجابا

And often I set out at dawn on my own affairs upon a swimmer,

a noble bay horse, inspiring great admiration.

فَأَتحَفَني ما اِبتَلَّ خَطُّ عِذارِهِ

فَإِن شِئتُ طَيّاراً وَإِن شِئتُ وَثّابا

And it delighted me, its cheekstrap's line still dry:

a flier if I wished, a leaper if I wished.

فَنِلنا طَرِيَّ اللَحمِ وَالشَمسُ غَضَّةٌ

كَأَنَّ سَناها صَبَّ في الأَرضِ زِريابا

So we won fresh meat while the sun was still young,

as though its radiance poured liquid gold upon the earth.

فَإِن أُمسِ مَطروقَ الفُؤادِ بِسَلوَةٍ

كَأَنَّ عَلى رَأسي مِنَ الشَيبِ أَغرابا

Though I now reach evening, my heart visited by forgetfulness,

as though the gray hairs upon my head were strangers,

وَخِلتُ نُجومَ اللَيلِ في ظُلَمِ الدُجى

خِصاصاً أَرى مِنها النَهارَ وَأَنقابا

and I imagined the stars of night in the deep darkness

as cracks through which I could see daylight, and apertures,

وَفَجَّعَني رَيبُ الزَمانِ بِفِتيَةٍ

بِهِم كُنتُ أَكفى حادِثَ الدَهرِ إِن رابا

and time's treacheries bereaved me of young men,

through whom I was spared time's calamity whenever it threatened,

وَآبَ إِلَيَّ رائِحُ الذِكرِ وَاِلتَقَت

عَلى القَلبِ أَحزانٌ فَأَصبَحنَ أَوصابا

and memory's evening visitor returned to me, and there gathered

upon my heart sorrows that became enduring pains—

فَقَد كانَ دَأبي جَنَّةَ اللَهوِ وَالصِبا

وَما زِلتُ بِاللَذاتِ وَالعَيشِ لَعّابا

yet once my wont was the paradise of pleasure and youth,

and I was ever a reveler in pleasures and life.

وَلَيلَةِ حُبٍّ قَد أَطَعتُ غَوِيَّها

وَزُرتُ عَلى حَدٍّ مِنَ السَيفِ أَحبابا

And many a night of love I obeyed its tempter,

and visited loved ones upon a sword's edge.

فَجِئتُ عَلى خَوفٍ وَرُقبَةِ غائِرٍ

أُحاذِرُ حُرّاساً غِضاباً وَحُجّابا

I came in fear, beneath a jealous man's watch,

wary of angry guards and doorkeepers,

إِلى ظَبيَةٍ باتَت تُرى في مَنامِها

خَيالي فَأَدناني وَما كانَ كَذّابا

to a doe who, all night, was shown in her dreams

my phantom; it drew me near, and was no liar.

وَكَأسٍ تَلَقَّيتُ الصَباحَ بِشُربِها

وَأَسقَيتُها شَرباً كِراماً وَأَصحابا

And many a cup I drank to greet the morning,

and poured it for noble drinkers and companions.

ثَوَت تَحتَ لَيلِ القارِ خَمسينَ حِجَّةً

تَرُدُّ مُهوراً غالِياتٍ وَخُطّابا

It had lain beneath a night of pitch for fifty years,

rejecting costly bride-prices and suitors.

وَكُنتُ كَما شاءَ النَديمُ وَلَم أَكُن

عَلَيها سَفيهاً يَفرِسُ الناسَ صَخّابا

And I was as my drinking companion wished, and was not

under its influence a loudmouthed fool who savaged people.

وَغِرّيدِ جُلّاسٍ تَرى فيهِ حِذقَهُ

إِذا مَسَّ بِالكَفَّينِ عوداً وَمِضرابا

And many a sweet singer among companions, whose skill you saw

when he touched lute and plectrum with both hands,

كَأَنَّ يَدَيهِ تَلعَبانِ بِعودِهِ

إِذا ما تَغَنّى أَنهَضَ النَفسَ إِطرابا

as though his two hands were playing with his lute;

whenever he sang, he roused the soul to ecstasy.

وَقُمرِيَّةِ الأَصواتِ حُمرٍ ثِيابُها

تُهينُ ثِيابَ الوَشيِ جَرّاً وَتَسحابا

And many a dove-voiced woman, her garments red,

scorning her brocaded robes, dragging and trailing them.

وَتَلقَطُ يُمناها إِذا ضَرَبَت بِهِ

وَتَنثُرُ يُسراها عَلى العودِ عُنّابا

And her right hand plucked whenever she played it,

and her left scattered jujubes upon the lute.

وَدَيمومَةٍ أَدرَجتُها بِشِمِلَّةٍ

تَشَكّى إِلَيَّ عَضَّ نِسعٍ وَأَقتابا

And many a trackless waste I folded away upon a swift she-camel,

who complained to me of the girth's bite and saddle-frames,

تَفِرُّ بِكَفَّيها وَتَطلُبُ رَحلَها

وَتُلقي عَلى الحادينَ مَيسانَ ذَبّابا

fleeing with her forefeet and pursuing her saddle,

and casting toward the camel-drivers a swaying fly-whisk.

كَأَنّي عَلى طاوٍ مِنَ الوَحشِ ناهِضٍ

تَخالُ قُرونَ الإِجلِ مِن خَلفِهِ غابا

As though I rode a lean wild beast, rising to its feet,

you would take the herd's horns behind him for a forest.

غَدا لِثَقاً بِالماءِ مِن وَبلِ ديمَةٍ

يُقَلِّبُ لَحظاً ظاهِرَ الخَوفِ مُرتابا

He went out at dawn, water-soaked from a steady rain's downpour,

turning his gaze, plainly fearful and suspicious.

فَأَبصَرَ لَمّا كانَ يَأمَنُ قَلبُهُ

سَلوقِيَّةً شوساً تُجاذِبُ كَلّابا

Then, just as his heart felt safe, he saw

fierce-eyed Saluki hounds straining against a dog-handler.

وَأَطلَقنَ أَشباحاً يُخَلنَ عَقارِباً

إِذا رَفَعَت عِندَ الحَفيظَةِ أَذنابا

And they were loosed, shapes that seemed like scorpions

when they raised their tails in fury.

فَطارَت إِلَيهِ فاغِراتٍ كَأَنَّها

تُحاوِلُ سَبقاً أَو تُبادِرُ إِنهابا

So they flew at him, mouths agape, as though

seeking to win a race or rushing to plunder.

وَماءٍ خَلاءٍ قَد طَرَقتُ بِسُدفَةٍ

تَخالُ بِهِ ريشَ القَطا الكُدرِ نُشّابا

And many a lonely waterhole I reached in the darkness,

where you would take the dusky sandgrouse's feathers for arrows.

وَقَد طالَما أَجرَيتُ في زَمَنِ الصِبا

وَآمَنَ شَيطاني مِنَ الآنَ أَو تابا

And many a time I raced in the days of youth,

but now my devil has found faith—or repented.

أَرى المَرءَ يَدري أَنَّ لِلرِزقِ ضامِناً

وَلَيسَ يَزالُ المَرءُ ما عاشَ طَلّابا

I see that a man knows livelihood has a guarantor,

yet all his life the man remains a seeker.

وَما قاعِدٌ إِلّا كَآخَرَ سائِرٍ

وَإِن أَدأَبَ العيسَ المَراسيلَ إِدآبا

One who stays put is no different from another who travels,

even if he wears out swift pale camels with ceaseless toil.

فَيا نَفسِ إِنَّ الرِزقَ نَحوَكِ قاصِدٌ

فَلا تَتعَبي حَسبي مِنَ الرِزقِ أَتعابا

So, my soul, livelihood is heading toward you;

so do not weary yourself: enough for me of livelihood's toil.