العشق طبعا بالمحاسن يوصف — Mufti Fathallah

العِشقُ طَبعاً بِالمحاسِنِ يُوصَفُ

لا خَيرَ في العِشقِ الّذي يُتكلّفُ

Love, when natural, is praised for its virtues;

There is no good in love that is contrived.

وَالنّفسُ تَألَفُ ما الطّباعُ تُحِبُّهُ

وَلِذي التّكلُّفِ قَد تَمجّ وتأنفُ

The soul grows fond of what its nature loves,

And may loathe and disdain one given to affectation.

إِنّي طَبعتُ عَلى الصّبابَةِ وَالهَوى

مِنهُ وَجدت فَغَيرهُ لا أعرفُ

Indeed, I was fashioned for yearning and love;

From it I came into being; I know nothing else.

وَبِهِ وَلدتُ وَقَد رَضِعت لباءَهُ

وَأَنا بِهِ مُذ كُنتُ حَملاً مدنفُ

With it I was born, and suckled its first milk;

And sick with it I have been since I was an unborn child.

يُهوي الهَوى بي في الجِبالِ مهيّماً

مِن شاهِقٍ أُلقى لآخرَ أُحذفُ

Love sends me plunging among the mountains, distraught,

From one lofty peak I am thrown, to another hurled.

عُلِّقتُ حُبَّ مُهَفهفٍ غابَ الأسو

دِ كِناسُهُ وَهوَ الغزالُ الأَوطفُ

I was ensnared by love for a slender youth; the lions' forest

Is his covert, though he is a long-lashed gazelle.

يَهوى النِّفارَ وَلَيسَ يَرحَمُ عاشِقاً

وَكَذا الرّشا يَهوى النِّفارَ وَيَألَفُ

He loves flight and has no mercy on a lover;

So too the fawn loves flight and grows accustomed to it.

أَحوى وَأَلمى وَاللّمى مَعسولُهُ

وَهوَ الزّلالُ هوَ الرّحيقُ القَرقفُ

Dusky and dark-lipped, his dark lips are honey-sweet;

It is limpid water; it is nectar, intoxicating wine.

غَنجٌ وَأَشكَل أَحور مُتَكحِّلٌ

دَعجاً هوَ العَضبُ الصّقيلُ المرهفُ

Coquettish, with red-tinged whites and kohl-lined, dark-pupilled eyes,

Deep-black in gaze—he is the keen, polished, fine-edged sword.

مُتَكَسِّرُ الأجفانِ أَضحى سِحرها

يَسبي الحِجى لَو لَم يَصحّ ويخطفُ

His eyelids droop; their magic has come to

Capture and snatch away reason, even if that magic were unreal.

تَرمي القُلوبَ بِنَبلِها وَسِهامها

مِن حَيثُ لَم تَطرف تطرفُ

They shoot at hearts with their arrows and their shafts;

Without so much as blinking, they wound the eye.

شَمس مُحيّاهُ وَبَدرُ جَبينِهِ

يَعلو هِلالَي حاجِبَيهِ ويُشرفُ

The sun of his face and the full moon of his forehead

Rise above his brows' two crescents and tower over them.

فيها قَدِ اِحتَرقا فَراما مصرفاً

فَإِذا هُما اِنقلَبا فَفاتَ المصرفُ

In that sun the two burned, and sought an escape;

Yet when the two turned over, escape was gone.

بَدر تَشنَّفَ بِالثريّا مَنْ رَأى

بَدراً بِها في العالمينَ يشنّفُ

A full moon wearing the Pleiades as earrings—who has seen

A full moon so earringed in all the worlds?

قاسوهُ في شَمسِ الضُّحى وَلَوَ اِنَّهم

قاسوا بِهِ شَمسَ النّهارِ لَأَنصَفوا

They compared him to the morning sun; had they

Compared the daylight sun to him, they would have been fair.

وَالصدغُ واوُ العَطفِ لاحَ كَعَقرَبٍ

لَكِن وَلَو لَدغ الحَشا لا يعطفُ

His temple-lock, the wāw of conjunction, appeared like a scorpion;

Yet even if it stings the heart, it shows no pity.

وَالوردُ لاحَ بِياسَمينِ خُدودِهِ

فَكَأنَّما الدمُ بَلَّ فيهِ الكرسفُ

Roses show amid the jasmine of his cheeks,

As though blood had soaked the cotton there.

ماءُ الحَياءِ سَقى الخدودَ فَأَنبتَت

آساً وَوَرداً يانِعاً لا يقطفُ

The water of modesty watered his cheeks, and they sprouted

Myrtle and ripe roses that are never plucked.

يَختالُ في ثَوبِ الدّلالِ تَرفّهاً

وَيَتيهُ في بَردِ الجمالِ وَيقصفُ

He struts in the robe of coquetry, luxuriating,

And swaggers in beauty's mantle, reveling.

وَيَميسُ كَالغصنِ الرّطيبِ إِذا اِنثَنى

وَيَكادُ لَولا لينه يَتَقصّفُ

He sways like a tender branch when it bends,

And would almost snap, were it not for his suppleness.

حَكَمٌ يَجورُ عَلى المُحبِّ بِحُكمِهِ

وَهوَ الغريمُ وَهَل غَريمٌ ينصِفُ

A judge who wrongs the lover by his verdict,

Though he himself is the adversary—does an adversary act fairly?

وَشُهودهُ العُذَّالُ قَد زَكّاهُمُ

لاحٍ يُبالِغُ في التّلاحي وَيُسرِفُ

His witnesses are the reproachers, vouched for by

A faultfinder, excessive and extravagant in his reproaches.

حَكَّمتهُ في مُهجَتي فَقَضى لَها

في أَنّها فيهِ غَراماً تُتْلفُ

I made him judge over my heart, and he decreed for it

That it should perish in passionate love for him.

يا لَهفَ قَلبي آه مِن حَرِّ الجَوى

وَمَتى يفيدُ تأوُّهٌ وَتَلهّفُ

Alas for my heart! Ah, the burning heat of longing!

And when do groans and lamentation avail?

يا عاذِلي يَكفي المتيّم هَجرهُ

فَإِلى مَتى تَبغي المَلامَ تُعنّفُ

O my reproacher, his abandonment is enough for one enslaved by love;

How long, then, will you seek to blame and berate me?

أَفلا تَرقُّ لِحالَةٍ يَرثي لَها

صُمُّ الصّخورِ إِذا فَطِنتَ وَترؤفُ

Will you not soften at a plight that draws pity from

Deaf rocks themselves, and show mercy if you understand?

ما ذا المَلام وَمَن تَلومُ فَمَيِّت

أَعمى أَصمّ مِنَ الصّبابَةِ مُتلفُ

What is this reproach? The one you blame is dead,

Blind and deaf, destroyed by yearning.

لا تسمعُ المَوتى وَلَو ذُقتَ الهَوى

لَعَذَرتَني وَعَرَفت ما لا تَعرفُ

You cannot make the dead hear; if you had tasted love,

You would excuse me and know what you do not know.

وَأَنا المُعنّى لِلصّبابةِ مُصطفىً

وَمَنِ اِصطَفتهُ فَما المَلامة يألفُ

I am the tormented one, chosen for yearning,

And whoever it chooses has no liking for reproach.

وَكَذا المَعالي تَصطفي لِعَليِّها

وَعَليُّها فيهِ تحلُّ وَتشرفُ

So too high honors choose their Ali,

And their Ali—in him they dwell and gain distinction.

ذاكَ اِبنُ أَسعد مَن بِهِ قَد شرفت

وَبِمَن سِواه لَم تَكُن تَتشرَّفُ

That is the son of As'ad, through whom they have gained honor,

And through none besides him did they gain distinction.

الضَّيغَمُ الصّنديدُ وَالبطلُ الّذي

تَعنو لِهَيبَتِهِ الأُسودُ وَترجفُ

The lion, the mighty champion, the hero before whose

Majesty lions bow and tremble.

خَوّاض بَحرِ الحَربِ تَحتَ عَجاجِها

وَهوَ الّذي عَن خَوضِهِ لا يأنَفُ

He plunges into the sea of war beneath its swirling dust,

And never disdains to plunge into it.

وَسُيوفهُ تَحتَ العَجاجِ كَأَنّها

بَرقُ الدّجى إِذ في الدّجى يَتَكشّفُ

His swords beneath the dust-cloud are like

Lightning in darkness, when it flashes into view in the dark.

ما بارَزَ الفُرسانَ إِلّا وَاِغتَدى

مِنها النّفوس مِنَ الأَضالِعِ يخطفُ

Never did he duel with horsemen without beginning

To snatch their souls from between their ribs.

وَتَدَفّقت مِنهم دِماء رِقابِهم

فَرِقابُهم مِنهم أُنوفٌ ترعفُ

The blood of their necks poured out of them,

So their necks became noses streaming blood.

وَكَأَنّما الفُرسانُ فَوقَ سُروجِهِم

نَبتُ الرّبى لَكِنَّهُ لا يعطفُ

The horsemen upon their saddles seemed

Like the growth of hilltops, but growth that does not bend.

فَلَكم يقدُّ قدُودَهم بِحُسامِهِ

وَلَكَم لَها لَمّا يَقُدّ يُنَصِّفُ

How often he cleaves their bodies with his sharp sword,

And how often, when he cleaves them, he cuts them in halves.

وَكَأنَّ أَرؤُسَهم ثمارٌ قَد عَلَت

وَلَها بِصارِمِهِ يَطول وَيقطفُ

Their heads seem fruit that has risen high,

And with his cutting sword he reaches up to them and plucks.

ما اِشتَدَّ جورُ سُيوفِهِ في مَعركٍ

إِلّا وَمِنهُ قَد تَبدّى الأحنفُ

Never did the tyranny of his swords grow fierce in battle

But al-Ahnaf became manifest in him.

فَردُ الزّمانِ مُروءةً وفتوّةً

شِبلُ الكَرامَةِ بِالمكارِمِ يوصَفُ

Peerless in his age in honor and gallantry,

The lion-cub of nobility, described by noble deeds.

بَحرُ السّخاوَةِ مَنْ يَدومُ هِياجُهُ

بِالجودِ لَيسَ عَنِ العَطا يَتَوقَّفُ

A sea of generosity, whose surge endures

In bounty, never ceasing to give.

يُعطي عَطا مَن لَيسَ يَخشى فاقَةً

بِبَشاشَةٍ ما إِن لَها يَتَكلّفُ

He gives as one who fears no poverty,

With a cheerfulness he never needs to feign.

ما إِن تَأَخَّرَ قاصِدوهُ دَقيقَةً

إِلّا عَلى الطّرقاتِ أَصبحَ يُشرفُ

No sooner are his visitors a minute late

Than he is looking out along the roads.

وَيَضيقُ لَو فَتَرَ العطاءُ دَقيقَةً

وَيَكادُ يُعطي لِلتّرابِ ويحذفُ

He is distressed if his giving slackens for a minute,

And almost gives to the very dust, casting gifts about.

حُلو الحَديثِ فَيَغتذي بِحَديثهِ

أَرواحنا وَكَذا العُقول وَتَرشفُ

Sweet of speech, his words nourish

Our souls; our minds, too, drink them in.

يُبديهِ مَسبوكاً بِحُسنِ تَلَطّفٍ

أَحلى الحَديث حَديثُ مَن يَتَلطّفُ

He offers his speech finely cast, with gracious delicacy;

The sweetest speech is that of one who speaks graciously.

وَيَصوغُهُ شنف المَسامِعِ جَوهَراً

وَبِهِ تُزان حَياتُها وَتشنّفُ

He fashions it as a jewel, an earring for the ears,

And with it their life is adorned, and they are decked with earrings.

يا أَيّها الشّهمُ الّذي سَكَن العُلى

وَبِمَجدِهِ طول الزَّمانِ تزخرِفُ

O noble-hearted one who dwells in the heights,

Whose glory adorns them throughout all time,

ها غادةً مِن درِّ مَدحِكَ نُظِّمَت

وَكَلامها شَهد العُقولِ وَقرقفُ

Behold a maiden strung from the pearls of praise for you,

Her words are honey and wine for the minds.

جاءَتكَ تَمشي لا بَلاغَةَ تَحتَوي

فَمِن الحَياءِ لِأَجل ذا تَتَوقَّفُ

She comes walking to you, possessing no eloquence,

So, from modesty, she pauses on that account.

هَبها القَبولَ فَإِنّه مِن حُسنِهِ

عَنها الخَجالة قَد يُزيلُ وَيكشفُ

Grant her acceptance, for through its beauty

It may lift away her shame and dispel it.

وَاِسلَم وَدُم فَردَ الزّمانِ وَشَمسهُ

لَيسَت تَزولُ وَلا اِعتَراها مكسفُ

Be safe and remain the peerless one of the age, and its sun,

Which never sets, nor has any eclipse overtaken it,

ما البَرقُ أَومَضَ ما الرّياضُ تَبَسَّمَت

إِذ أَبصَرَت عَين السّحائِبِ تَذرِفُ

As long as lightning flashes, as long as gardens smile,

When they see the clouds' eye shedding tears,

ما الرَّوضُ زُيِّن في لآلِئِ زَهرهِ

ما الوُرقُ يَشدو في الغصونِ وَيَهتِفُ

As long as the meadow is arrayed in the pearls of its flowers,

As long as gray doves sing and call among the branches.