آهات — Jawahiri

لا تلُمْ أمسَك فيما صَنَعا

أمسِ قد فاتَ، ولن يُستَرجَعا

Do not blame your yesterday for what it did.

Yesterday has passed and will not be reclaimed.

أمسِ قد ماتَ .. ولن يبعثَه

حملُك الهمَّ له .. والهَلعَا

Yesterday is dead; it will not be revived

by your shouldering worry and panic for it.

هَدراً ضيَّعتَه مثل دمِ ال

ملك " الأبرَشِ " لما ضُيِّعا

You wasted it in vain, like the blood of the

king al-Abrash when it was spilled for nothing.

لم تُمطِّرْه فلا تَسأَلْ به

أشبَاباً، أم سَحاباً أقلعا

You drew no rain from it; ask no more about it,

whether youth or a cloud that has drifted away.

واطَّرِحْه واستَرِحْ من ثِقْلِه

لا تُضِع أَمْسَك واليومَ معا

Cast it aside and rest from its burden;

do not waste your yesterday and today together.

آهِ كم جرَّرتَها عن كَبِدٍ

من وَقيدِ الآهِ سالتْ قِطَعا

Ah, how often you have dragged it from a liver

that flowed in pieces from the burning of the sigh.

آه يا شَرخَ الصِبا لو طَلَلٌ

سَمِعَ النجوى، ولو مَيْتٌ وَعَى

Ah, O prime of youth! If only a ruin

heard the whispered plea—if only a dead man understood!

ما أذلَ العُمرَ مَمحوقَ السَّنا

يشتكي منه المغيبُ المطلَعَا

How abject is life, its radiance blotted out,

its sunset lamenting its dawn.

فهو ما ارتحتَ له حتى امّحى

" وهو ما سلَّمَ حتى ودَّعَا "

For no sooner do you take comfort in it than it vanishes;

“And no sooner does it say hello than it says goodbye.”

وأخسَّ المرءَ يشكو يومَه

فإذا ولَّى بكاه جَزَعا

And how base is man, complaining of his day,

then weeping for it in anguish once it has gone!

عاطشاً يمضي ولمّا يغتَرِفْ

من أفاويق الصِبا ما رَضَعا

He goes on thirsty, not yet having drawn

from youth's fresh milk as much as he once suckled.

تنحِتُ الآلامُ من أطرافِه

يأكلُ الموضعُ منه الموضِعا

Pains chisel away at his extremities;

one part of him devours another.

يا بقايا ذكرياتٍ كلَّما

جُسَّ عودٌ من صَداها رَجَّعا

O remnants of memories! Whenever

a lute is touched, it resounds with their echo.

أجمَعُ المُرَّ إلى المُرِّ بها

وأُسَقّاها سَموماً جُرَعا

In them I heap bitterness upon bitterness,

and am made to drink them as scorching wind, draught by draught.

تَرْتَعي في النَومِ مني حَمَلاً

وادِعاً يَرقُبُ منها السَبُعا

In sleep they feed upon the lamb in me,

meek, watching the beast of prey in them.

حَدِّثي ما شِئتِ عن أُبدوعةٍ

ولقد يأتي الزمانُ البِدَعا

Tell what you will of a marvel—

for time indeed brings forth wonders—

عن فتىً أخصَبَ في شَتْوتِه

لاعِناً فيها الربيع البَلْقَعا

of a young man who flourished in his winter,

cursing within it the barren spring.

عاشَ في العشرينَ شيخاً ورَعَى

بعد سِتّينَ شَباباً ممرِعا

He lived at twenty as an old man, and grazed

after sixty on lush pastures of youth.

ورأى من ذي وهذي عِبرةً

ولكم ضُرَّ الفتى كي يُنْفعا

And from this and that he learned a lesson—

and how often a young man is harmed so he may be helped!

قِفْ على " براها " وجُبْ أرباضَها

وسَلِ المُصطافَ والمرْتَبَعا

Stop at Prague and roam her outskirts;

and question her summer retreat and springtime pasture:

أعلى الحُسنِ ازدهاء وَقَعَت

أم عليها الحسنُ زهواً وَقَعا

did she alight upon beauty in splendor,

or did beauty alight upon her in pride?

واستَعِرْ منها عيوناً جمَّةً

وتملَّ الناسَ والمُجتمَعا

And borrow many eyes from her,

and gaze your fill at the people and society.

وسلِ الخَلاّقَ هل في وُسعِه

فوقَ ما أبدَعَه أن يُبدِعا

And ask the Creator whether it is in His power

to create beyond what He has already fashioned.

قُلتُ مما أفرَطَ الحسنُ بها

بئْستِ الدُنيا لنا مُنتجَعا

I said, so lavish was beauty in her:

What a wretched retreat the world is for us!

يحسُدُ المُقعَدُ من جُوع بها

مُتْخَماً أُقعِدَ ممّا شَبِعا

There, one laid low by hunger envies

a glutted man laid low by his surfeit.

يا لَصيفٍ مُمتِعٍ لو لم يكُنْ

غيرُه كانَ الفصولَ الأربعا

O delightful summer! Were there none

besides it, it would be all four seasons.

ممطرٍ آناً .. ورَيّانَ الضُحَى

مُزهرٍ آناً .. وذاوٍ سَرِعا

Rainy at times, and well-watered in the forenoon,

blooming at times, and swiftly withering.

حُلُمُ العذراءِ في يَقظتِها

ويُناغي حينَ تَغفو المَخْدَعا

The maiden's dream in her waking hours,

and, when she dozes, it coos to her bedchamber.

تشتَهي ما ظلَّ أن لا يَنْقَضي

فإذا وَدَّعَها أن يرجِعا

She wishes, while it lasts, that it would never end,

and when it bids her farewell, that it would return.

مَرَّتِ الأسرابُ تَترى .. مَقْطَعٌ

من نشيد الصيفِ يتلو المَقْطَعا

The flocks passed in succession—one stanza

of summer's song following another.

وتَفَتَّحْنَ على رَأْدِ الضُحى

حُلُماً أَشْهَى، وصَحْواً أمْتَعا

And they blossomed in the rising light of morning,

a more alluring dream, a more delightful waking.

وتَقاسَمْنَ الصِبا مَيْعتَه

وشَذاهُ، والهَوَى، والمُتَعا

And they shared youth's fresh bloom,

its fragrance, love, and pleasures.

وتَخَفَّفْنَ فما زِدْنَ على

ما ارتدَتْ " حَوّاءُ " إلاّ إصبَعا

And they dressed lightly, wearing no more than

what Eve wore, save a finger's breadth.

رَحْمَتا " لابنِ زُرَيقٍ " لو رَأَى

فَلَكَ الأزرارِ ماذا أَطلَعا

Pity Ibn Zurayq, had he seen

the firmament of buttons—what it has brought to light!

كُلُّ مَضمومٍ إلى صاحِبِه

مُشْرَئِبِّينْ إلى النُور مَعا

Each pressed close to its companion,

craning toward the light together.

ما أَرقَّ الزَّهرَ في سِيقانه

وعلى لَبّاتِها ما أروَعا

How delicate the flowers upon their stems,

and how splendid upon their bosoms!

يا بديلَ الخُلْدِ لولا أَنّها

كانتِ المَرأَى، وكان المَسمَعا

O substitute for Paradise—except that you

were seen, while it was only heard of.

لا تَخطَّاكِ الحَيَا من مُمْرعٍ

صابَه . . أو لم يَصُبه أَمْرَعا

May rain never pass you by, O lush pasture

that grows lush whether rain falls on it or not!

وتناغَتْ بكِ أوتارُ الصِبا

ما شدا شادٍ، وما داعٍ دَعَا

And may youth's strings resound in you,

as long as a singer sings and a caller calls.

فلقد رُضتِ جِماحاتِ الهَوَى

فتَحوَّلْنَ الرَضِيَّ الطَيِّعا

For you have tamed desire's wild impulses,

and they have turned contented and compliant.

كَفَيتِ النفسَ مما غذِيَتْ

مَطمَحاً لم تَغْذَه، أو مَطْمَعا

You satisfied the soul with all its nourishment,

leaving no aspiration or desire unfed.

لا أُحابيكِ فبي حَزُّ المُدى

من عَقابيلَ أبتْ أنْ تُنْزَعا

I do not flatter you: I bear the cuts of knives,

from lingering afflictions that refuse to be torn away,

وأحاسيسَ يُبقِّي عَضَّةً

مَدرَجُ النَمل بها أنّى سعَى

and feelings in which a bite is left

by the tread of ants wherever they go;

ومُضِبٍّ في رُؤىً لا تَخْتَفي

فأُواريها، ولا أَنْ تَسْطَعا

and something lurking in visions that neither vanish—

so I might hide them—nor shine forth.

أُسدِل السِترُ على واحدةٍ

فتَعَرَّى ما سِواها أجمَعا

The curtain was lowered over one,

and all the rest were laid bare.

تَتَساقَى مُصبِحاتٍ من دمي

وتُماسي فتُقِضُّ المضجَعا

At daybreak they share draughts of my blood,

and at nightfall they disturb my bed.

غنيةٌ أنْ قد تَلَمَّسْتُ المَدَى

من مَداها .. ورَقَيتُ الأَوجعا

It is enough that I have felt out the limits

of their reach, and charmed the sorest pain.

كُلَّما أفزَعَني من وَحْشِها

طارقٌ .. ألفَيتُ فيك المَفْزَعا

Whenever I was frightened by one of their beasts—

a night-visitor—I found refuge in you.