متى صدرت عيناك عن أرض بابل — Ibn Hamdis

مَتى صَدَرَت عَيناكِ عن أرض بابلِ

فَسِحرُهُما في اللَّحظِ بادي المَخايِلِ

When did your eyes leave the land of Babylon?

For their magic shows clear signs in the glance.

عجبتُ لرامٍ كيفَ أنشبَ منهما

بسهمين نَصْلاً واحداً في مقاتلي

I marveled at an archer: how did he lodge, from those eyes,

With two arrows, a single point in my vital parts?

أَأَنتِ الَّتي سَقَّيتِني سَمّ حيّةٍ

وخَيّلتِ عندي أنّه شَهْدُ عاسلِ

Was it you who made me drink a serpent's venom

And made me think it was a honey-gatherer's honey?

فيا نارَ وجدي كيف عشتِ تضرّماً

بماءٍ من الأجفان للنّار قاتلِ

Then, O fire of my passion, how have you lived blazing,

On water from the eyelids, deadly to fire?

ويا رَفْعَ أشواقي لقلبي وخَفْضَها

متى كان للأشواقِ فعلُ العوامِلِ

And O my longings' raising of my heart and their lowering—

Since when have longings acted as grammatical governors?

وذي جَهْلَةٍ بالحبّ أعلمتُهُ بما

ثناهُ عذيري بعدما كان عاذِلي

And one ignorant of love—I taught him what

Turned him into my defender after he had been my censurer.

وقلتُ لهُ إِنَّ الهوى لأَخو الوغى

ولا بُدّ فيه للفتى من مُنازلِ

And I told him: love is indeed war's brother,

And in it a young man must have an opponent.

حذارِ حساماً حدُّهُ لحظةٌ فما

يُسَمّى غِشاءُ العينِ جفناً لباطِلِ

Beware a sword whose edge is a glance: it is not

For nothing that the eye's covering is called a lid—a 'sheath.'

وأكثر ما تَرْوي السيوفُ الَّتي نضا

بها من عقولِ الناس فتحَ المعاقِلِ

And most of what the swords he unsheathed recount

Is how, with them, he conquered the strongholds of people's minds.

أقارعةً سمعي بِثِقْلِ عتابِها

يخفّ على سمعي سماعُ الثّقائِلِ

O woman pounding my ears with the weight of her reproach,

The sound of heavy things falls lightly on my ears.

مَتى يَتسلّى عنكِ صَبٌّ فؤادُهُ

كأنّ الهوى مُغْرىً بِهِ غَيرُ ذاهِلِ

When can a man whose heart is lovesick forget you?

Passion seems fixed upon it, never heedless.

وَكَيفَ وَفي عَينَيكِ قانِصُ فِتنَةٍ

تَقَنّصَني من غير نَصْبِ حبائِلِ

And how, when in your eyes there is a hunter of enchantment,

Who caught me without setting any snares?

أرَى شَعَرَاتي السودَ قادتْك في الصبا

وَقَطَّعْتِ في عَصرِ المشيبِ سَلاسِلي

I see that my black hairs led you in youth,

And you severed my chains in the age of gray hair.

فَهَلّا وَشَعْري لصبْغَةٍ

لها ابتسمتْ عيناك صبْغ المكاحِلِ

Why not, then—and my hair, for a dye...

At which your eyes smiled—the tint of kohl?

وَعِبْتِ لَبوسي إذ غدا دونَ هِمّتي

وكم شَمْلَةٍ فيها كريمُ الشّمائلِ

And you faulted my clothing when it fell below my aspirations;

How many a cloak holds one of noble character!

وهل يُحْمَدُ الهنديّ من حليةٍ له

إذا لم يؤثّر في الطُّلى والكواهِلِ

And is an Indian sword praised for its adornment,

If it leaves no mark on necks and shoulders?

وَما أَرَّقَ الأجفانَ إِلّا بَلابِلٌ

تُسامِرُها بَينَ الضلوعِ بَلابِلي

Only nightingales have kept my eyelids sleepless,

With whom my heartaches, between my ribs, converse by night.

رَقيقَةُ أَطرافِ الغناءِ كَأَنَّهُ

إِذا طافَ بالأسماعِ جرسُ الخلاخِلِ

Delicate are the strains of their song, as though it,

When it circles through the ears, were the jingling of anklets.

تَنالُ صغارَ الحَبّ لَقطاً وتحتسي

بشقّاتِ أقلامٍ ثمادَ المناهِلِ

They pick up little seeds, and sip

With split reed-pens, the scant water of watering places.

لدى روضةٍ كالمسك في أنْفِ ناشقٍ

وكالعَصْبِ ذي التسهيمِ في عينِ نائِلِ

Beside a garden, like musk to an inhaling nose,

And like arrow-patterned striped cloth to a recipient's eye.

سَقَاها الحيا فَاستَوعَبَتْ مِنهُ ريّها

وأمسكَ عنها قطرَهُ غَيرَ باخِلِ

Rain watered it, and it took from it its fill;

And the rain withheld its drops from it, without being stingy.

كأنّ لها بالحَزْنِ حِجْرَ أمينةٍ

تنوّمُ فيه خشفَها كلُّ خاذِلِ

As though, on the rugged ground, it had a trusty nurse's lap,

Where every doe apart from the herd lulls her fawn to sleep.

يَنامُ كَوَقْفِ العاجِ فُصّلَ مَتْنُهُ

وطالَ به إهمالُ بعض العقائِلِ

It sleeps like an ivory bracelet, its surface carved,

Long left neglected by some noble lady.

وتَخشَى عَلَيهِ الخطفَ مِن كلِّ كاسِرٍ

إذا لم تُذِقْهُ الحتفَ كِفّةُ حابِلِ

And she fears its being snatched by every bird of prey,

If a trapper's net has not made it taste death.

حديقةُ نَوْرٍ دامعِ العين ضاحكٍ

كنشوانَ ذي جيدٍ من السُّكْرِ مائِلِ

A garden of blossoms, tearful-eyed and smiling,

Like a drunkard whose neck droops with intoxication.

وَرَبعِيَّةِ الأَزمانِ طَلقٍ هَواؤها

تَمُجُّ نَدى الأَشجارِ عِندَ الأَصائلِ

And one whose seasons are spring, its air mild,

Shedding the trees' dew in the late afternoons.

كأنّ ابن يحيى والحيا صنوُ جودِهِ

سقى تُرْبَها صَوْبَ الغوادي الهواطِلِ

As though Ibn Yahya—rain being the twin of his bounty—

Had watered its soil with the downpour of streaming morning clouds.

مليكٌ له في الملكِ سَمْتٌ مُوَقَّرٌ

وهيبةُ مرهوبٍ وسيرةُ عادِلِ

A king with a dignified bearing in kingship,

The awe of one feared, and the conduct of a just ruler.

عَظيمُ رَمادِ المَندَلِ الرّطبِ نارُهُ

تَرى الجَوَّ مِنها في دُخانٍ مُواصِلِ

Vast is the ash of moist aloeswood from his fire;

From it you see the air filled with unceasing smoke.

وجزلُ الأيادي مُغمِدٌ لعُفاتِهِ

سيوفَ الأماني في رقابِ الفواضلِ

And lavish in favors, he sheathes for his petitioners

The swords of wishes in the necks of bounties.

وتلك بحورٌ من عطاياه أُنشِئَتْ

لها سُفُنُ الآمال لا للجداوِلِ

And those are seas of his gifts, for which were built

The ships of hope—not for streams.

أَبيٌّ أبَى إلّا انتِصاراً لدينِهِ

بصاعقةٍ محمولةٍ في الحمائِلِ

Unyielding, he insists on nothing but victory for his faith,

With a thunderbolt carried in sword-belts.

هوَ اللَّيثُ إِلّا أنّ رِفعةَ تاجهِ

على قمرٍ في هالةِ المُلْكِ كامِلِ

He is the lion, except that his lofty crown

Rests on a full moon within the halo of kingship.

له نُورُ بشرٍ تُتّقَى سطواتُهُ

وكالنارِ في الإحراقِ ماءُ المفاصِلِ

His is the glow of cheerfulness, yet his onslaughts are feared;

And the water of his joints burns like fire.

يُوَجِّهُ وَجْهَ الحربِ نَحوَ عُداتِهِ

ويحشو حَشَاها بالقَنَا والقَنائِلِ

He turns the face of war toward his enemies,

And stuffs its entrails with lances and battalions.

وما عقَدَ الرايات إلّا تَحلّلَتْ

به عُقَدُ الآراءِ بين القبائِلِ

Whenever he tied the banners, there came undone

Through him the knots of counsels among the tribes.

لَهُ عَمَلٌ يَستَغرِقُ القَولَ في العُلى

وكم في الوَرَى من قائلٍ غيرِ عامِلِ

His deeds exhaust all words about lofty achievement,

And how many among mankind are talkers, not doers!

وَرَفع إِلَيهِ كلُّ عِيسٍ تَيَمّمَتْ

مَعالمَهُ بِعدَ اعتِسافِ المَجاهِلِ

And all pale camels sped toward him, seeking

His landmarks after crossing trackless wastes.

وَكلُّ سَفينٍ تَحرثُ الماءَ عُوّماً

إذا هي شَقّتْ لُجّةً بالكلاكِلِ

And every ship that ploughs the water afloat,

When it cleaves the deep with its breast.

فتىً لا يُحَيّي القِرْنَ إلّا بِضَربةٍ

تَسُلّ لسانَ السيف عن شِدْقِ بازِلِ

A young hero who greets his match only with a blow

That draws the sword's tongue from a full-grown camel's jaw.

يَشُقُّ أَضَاةَ الدرعِ فَوقَ كَمِيِّها

بجدولِ بأسٍ منه لُجَّةُ نائِلِ

He cleaves the pool of armor over its warrior,

With a stream of might; from him comes an ocean of bounty.

تَرى ضَيغَمَ الأَبطالِ يَعنو لِعِزِّهِ

ذَليلاً كَما استَخذى أَكيلٌ لآكلِ

You see the lion of champions submit to his might,

Humbled, as prey cowers before its devourer.

ويصعبُ بعدَ الضّرْبِ إغْمادُ سيفِهِ

لِكُلِّ دَمٍ في مَتْنِهِ غَير سائِلِ

And after striking, sheathing his sword becomes hard,

Because of all the blood clotted upon its blade.

أَلا إِنَّ آسادَ الوَقائِعِ حِمْيَرٌ

نِعِمّا وهمْ غرّ الملوك الأوائِلِ

Indeed, the lions of battles are Himyar!

How excellent—the illustrious among the kings of old!

غطارفةٌ شُمّ العرانين قادةٌ

يَعُلّونَ أطرافَ الرّماحِ النواهِلِ

Noble lords, high of nose, leaders,

Who give another draught to the spear-tips that have drunk.

إذا ما سَطَوْا سرّوا بكفّ شذَاتِهمْ

وإن حاربوا جرّوا ذيولَ الجحافِلِ

When they wield force, they bring joy by restraining their harm;

And when they wage war, they drag the trains of mighty armies.

كَأَنَّ نَدى أَيمانِهِم نَوَّرَت بِهِ

ذَوابِلُهُم فاعجَب لِنَورِ ذَوابِلِ

As though the dew of their right hands had made

Their withered spears blossom—marvel at flowers on withered spears!

وما هي إلّا مشرَعاتٌ أسنّةٌ

عِطاشٌ تُرَوّى في حياضِ المقاتِلِ

They are nothing but leveled spearheads,

Thirsty, quenched in the pools of the body's vital parts.

إليك حدا الإنشادُ كلَّ نجيبةٍ

مُرَحَّلَةٍ إرقالها في المحافِلِ

To you recitation drove every noble she-camel,

Saddled, its swift trotting through assemblies.

ومدحُكَ منها خصّ كلّ لطيمةٍ

بمسكٍ مقيمٍ في التأرّج راحِلِ

And praise of you graced every perfume-caravan among them

With musk that stays, yet travels in its wafting fragrance.

وقَدرُكَ أعلى من مدائحِنا الَّتي

أبَرّتْ على إِحسانِ مِصْقَعِ وائِلِ

And your stature is higher than our praises, which

Surpassed the artistry of Wa'il's eloquent speaker.

وإن قَصّرَتْ عن غايةٍ فلعلّها

تصيّرُ تحجيلاً لغرِّ الفضائِلِ

And if they fall short of a goal, perhaps they

Will form white stockings for the white-blazed virtues.

وإِن نَنظمِ الدرّ الَّذي أنت بحرُهُ

ففضلُكَ ألقاهُ لنا في السواحِلِ

And if we string the pearls whose sea you are,

Your bounty cast them onto the shores for us.

فلا زالتِ الأعيادُ في كلّ عَوْدَةٍ

ترى الدينَ من مغناك في ظلِّ كافِلِ

May the festivals, at every return, never cease

To see the faith, from your dwelling, in a guardian's shade.