Sol 6.1

  1. أَيَنفَعُني فَضلُ الحَنينِ المُرَجَّع

    وَهَيهاتَ ما وَجدي عَلَيكَ بِمُنجَعِ

    Will an abundance of echoing lament avail me?

    Far from it! My grief for you is of no avail.

  2. وَكَيفَ يَفوزُ الغَيثُ فيكَ بِمِنَّةٍ

    إِذا كُنتُ لا أَرضى سَحائِبَ أَدمُعي

    And how could rain win credit for a kindness to you,

    When I am not content with the rainclouds of my tears?

  3. أَرى زَفَراتِ الحُزنِ بَعدَكَ سَلوة

    يَدُلُّ عَلى وِجدانِ قَلبٍ وَأَضلُعِ

    I deem grief's sighs after your loss a solace,

    A sign that a heart and ribs still remain.

  4. وَلَيسَ بُكاء العَينِ إِلّا خِيانَةً

    وَلا اللَّومُ إِلّا أَنَّها بَقِيَت مَعي

    And the eye's weeping is nothing but betrayal,

    And the only reproach is that it has remained with me.

  5. وَكُلُّ أَسىً لا تَذهَبِ النَّفسُ عِندَهُ

    فَما هوَ إِلّا مِن قَبيلِ التَّصَنُّعِ

    And every grief at which the soul does not depart

    Is nothing but a kind of affectation.

  6. وَوَالله ما وَفَّيتُ وُدَّكَ حَقَّهُ

    وَهَل هيَ إِلّا لَوعَتي وَتَفَجُّعي

    And by God, I have not paid your love its due,

    And what is it but my anguish and lamentation?

  7. وَأَينَ وَفائي لا مَدى الدَّمع بالِغٌ

    رِضايَ وَلا جُهدُ الصَّبابَةِ مُقنِعي

    And where is my faithfulness? No flood of tears can reach

    What would satisfy me, nor can yearning's utmost effort content me.

  8. رَضيتُ بِحُكمِ الدَّهرِ فيكَ ضَرورَة

    وَكَيفَ إِبائي دونَهُ وَتَمَنُّعي

    I accepted time's judgment concerning you under compulsion;

    How could I refuse or resist it?

  9. وَطاوعتُهُ حَتّى جَعَلتُكَ عِندَهُ

    وَديعَة مُغرى بِالخِيانَةِ مولِع

    And I yielded to it until I left you in its keeping,

    A trust with one seduced by treachery, obsessed with it.

  10. أمثلُ في عَيني خَيالَكَ حاضِراً

    وَأَنتَ بَعيدٌ عَن مَقامي وَمَوضِعي

    I summon your image, present before my eyes,

    Though you are far from where I stand and dwell.

  11. فَلَو أَنَّني حَدَّثتُ نَفسي بِسَلوَةٍ

    لَكُنتَ بِمرأى مِن حَديثي وَمَسمَعي

    So if I were to speak to myself of solace,

    You would be before my eyes, within hearing of my words.

  12. لَحى اللَّهُ دَهراً نازَعَتكَ صُروفُهُ

    صَبابَةَ قَلب بِالفِراق مُرَوَّعِ

    God curse an age whose turns wrested you away

    From the yearning of a heart terrified by parting.

  13. وَشُلَّت يَدٌ هالَت عَلى وَجهِكَ الثَّرى

    لَقَد كسفت نورَ الصَّباح المُلَمَّعِ

    And paralyzed be the hand that heaped dust upon your face:

    It has indeed eclipsed the light of gleaming morning.

  14. تَصامَمتُ عَن ناعيكَ حَتّى أريبَهُ

    وَدافَعتُ فيكَ الخَطبَ مِن كُلِّ مَدمَعِ

    I feigned deafness to your death's herald, to make him doubt,

    And held the calamity of your loss back from every tear-duct.

  15. فَلَمّا أَبى إِلّا يَقيناً حَديثُهُ

    فَزِعتُ إِلى جَفنٍ مِنَ الدَّمعِ مُترَعِ

    But when his account would admit nothing but certainty,

    I sought refuge in an eye brimming with tears.

  16. يَزيدُ أَوامي وِردُهُ وَهوَ طافِحٌ

    وَقَد كانَ مَن يَشرَب مِنَ العَدِّ يَنقَع

    Drinking from it increases my burning thirst, though it overflows;

    Yet whoever drank from a perennial spring would have his thirst quenched.

  17. فَقَدتُكَ فَقدَ الماءِ بَعدَ ظَماءةٍ

    مِنَ الغُلِّ في قَفرٍ مِنَ البيدِ بَلقَع

    I lost you as one loses water after thirst

    From burning heat, in a barren desert waste.

  18. وَكانَ رَجائي فيكَ ذُخراً جَعَلتُهُ

    مَلاذيَ في دَفع الهُمومِ وَمَفزَعي

    And my hope in you was a treasure I had made

    My shelter against cares and my refuge.

  19. فَيا ماء عَيني كَيفَ خَلَّفتَ نورَها

    مَجالاً لِغَربِ الدَّمعَةِ المُتَسَرِّع

    So, O water of my eye, how have you left its light

    A course for the tear's headlong torrent?

  20. وَما كُنتُ أَخشى مِن يَدَيكَ خِيانَةً

    تُضَرّمُ ناراً في مَقيلي وَمَضجَعي

    I never feared from your hands a betrayal

    That would kindle fire in my noonday resting place and my bed.

  21. أصاعِدُ قَد بَلَّغتُ لَو بَلَّغَ الثَّرى

    نِداءَ حَزينٍ أَو شِكايَةَ موجَعِ

    O Ṣāʿid, I have sent my words—if the earth could carry

    A grieving man's call or a sufferer's complaint.

  22. ذَكَرتُ لَكَ العَهدَ القَديمَ وَقَد مَضَت

    عَلَيهِ لَيالٍ ما تَهِمُّ بِمَرجِع

    I recalled to you the ancient covenant, though there have passed

    Over it nights that have no thought of returning.

  23. وَخالَسَني فيكَ الزَّمانُ بَقِيَّةً

    مِنَ الصَّبرِ في أَعشارِ قَلب مُوَزَّعِ

    And time, through your loss, stole from me a remnant

    Of patience amid the fragments of a scattered heart.

  24. فَأيُّ حُسام حالَتِ الأَرضُ دونَهُ

    وَكانَ مَتى يَضرِب بِهِ الخَطبُ يَقطَع

    What a sword the earth has shut away!

    And whenever calamity wielded it, it cut through.

  25. وَمُقتَسِم النُعمى أَناخَت عُفاتُهُ

    عَلى المَحلِ في رَوضٍ مِنَ الجودِ مُمرَعِ

    And a sharer of bounty, whose petitioners made camp,

    Despite drought, in a lush meadow of generosity.

  26. لَهُ نَشوَة عِندَ السُّؤالِ كَأَنَّما

    تُنازِعُهُ كَأسُ السُّلافِ المُشَعشَعِ

    He knew a rapture when asked, as though

    A cup of diluted choice wine were contending with him.

  27. إِذا أَعمَلَ الأقلام نالَت غُروبُها

    مَطارِحَ أَطرافِ القَنا المُتَزَعزِعِ

    When he set the pens to work, their nibs reached

    The places struck by the points of quivering lances.

  28. وَما الطَّعنَةُ النَّجلاء في كُلِّ مَعرَكٍ

    سِوى الخُطبَةِ الغَرّاءِ في كُلِّ مَجمَعِ

    And the gaping spear-thrust in every battle

    Is but the brilliant oration in every assembly.

  29. أقَرَّ لَهُ بِالفَضلِ كُلُّ مُنازِعٍ

    وَيَأسِرهُ في الفِكرِ كُلُّ مُمَنَّعِ

    Every rival acknowledged his excellence,

    And every impregnable thing held him captive in thought.

  30. وَأَثنى عَلَيهِ الحاسِدونَ ضَرورَة

    بِأَحسَن ما يَغلو الصَّديقُ وَيَدَّعي

    And the envious were compelled to praise him

    With the finest praise a friend might extravagantly profess.

  31. لَعَمري لَقَد مَنَّيتُ نَفسي بِقُربِهِ

    سِفاهاً وَمَن يَطلُب مِنَ الدَّهرِ يُمنَعِ

    By my life, I had indeed fed myself hopes of nearness to him,

    Foolishly: whoever asks of time is denied.

  32. فَجالَ الرَّدى دونَ اللِّقاء وَلَم تَدَع

    صُروفُ الرَّدى مِن حيلَةٍ في التّجمعِ

    Then death swept between us and our meeting, nor did

    Death's reversals leave any means of reunion.

  33. سَقاكَ وَقَد أَغنى عَنِ الغَيثِ مُزنَةٌ

    مِنَ الدَّمعِ تَهمي في مَصيفٍ وَمَربَعِ

    May you be watered—though rain is made needless by a cloud

    Of tears pouring down in summer and spring—

  34. سَحاب تُرَجِّيهِ الصَّبا وَكَأَنَّما

    يَمُدُّ بِطَودٍ مِن عِمايَة أَتلَعِ

    By a cloud the east wind drives, as though

    It stretched forth a towering peak of ʿImāya.

  35. يُفَوّفُ أَبرادَ الرِّياضِ وَبَرقُهُ

    يَشُقُّ جَلابيبَ الظَّلام المُوَشَّعِ

    It stripes the gardens' mantles, while its lightning

    Rends the cloaks of interwoven darkness.

  36. كَأَنَّ حَنينَ الرَّعدِ في حُجُراتِهِ

    حُدآء مَهيبٍ بِالرِّكابِ مُزَعزَعِ

    As though the thunder's moaning in its chambers

    Were the chant of one urging on the jolting camels.

  37. لَهُ زَجَلٌ يَروي النَّسيمُ وَراءَهُ

    أَحاديثَ نَشرِ الرَّوضَةِ المُتَضَوِّعِ

    It has a resounding roar; behind it, the breeze recounts

    Tales of the garden's spreading perfume.

  38. وَقَد جَلَّ قَدرُ الماء إِن كانَ حافِظاً

    مَوَدَّةَ ثاوٍ في التُّرابِ مُضَيَّعِ

    And water's worth is great indeed, if it preserves

    Affection for one abandoned, dwelling in the dust.

  39. وَما أَنا إِلّا لاحِق بِكَ فَانتَظِر

    لِقائي وَمَن يَسلُك سَبيلَكَ يَتبَعِ

    And I am but one who will join you, so await

    Our meeting; whoever treads your path must follow.

  40. عَوائِدُ مِن ذِكراكَ عِندي حَبيبَةٌ

    وَمالي مِنها غَيرُ مَبكى وَمَجزَعِ

    The recurring visits of your memory are dear to me,

    And from them I have only weeping and anguish.

  41. وَأَيُّ جُفون ما أَفاضَت دُموعَها

    عَلَيكَ وَقَلبٍ فيكَ لَم يَتَصَدَّعِ

    And what eyelids have not poured out their tears

    For you, and what heart has not broken over you?