أبثُّك ما الحَديثُ به شجُونا
حَوادثَ ما يُصَدَّقُ أن تَكُونا
I confide to you what sorrows its telling holds—
events one can scarcely believe could ever be.
وقبلَ اليَوم كنتُ بماءِ وَجهي
شَحيحاً لا أجُودُ به ضنِينا
Before today, I guarded the water of my face,
too miserly, too loath to spend it.
يُعلِّمُني السَّماحَ به زَمانٌ
تُنَسِّيني نَوائبُه المَنُونا
Now Time teaches me to lavish it—
its blows so dire they make me forget death.
أبا حسَنٍ وأيَّامُ الرَّزايا
تُطاوِلُني فأحسَبُها سِنِينا
Abū Ḥasan, the days of affliction
draw themselves out against me till I count them years.
وما وجهٌ يُذالُ إِليكَ يوماً
فَيَعرفُهُ الوَرى إِلا مَصُونا
Yet no face is ever humbled in turning to you
but all mankind comes to know it as inviolate.
بكيتُ نوائباً خلقت فأمشي
بهنَّ على النَّوائب مُستَعينا
I wept over calamities until they grew old; now I walk
with them, enlisting them against calamity.
كأنَّ مَقاصِدي أمسَت عُيُونا
وقَد غَدتِ الخُطوبُ لها جُفُونا
It is as though my aspirations have become eyes,
and disasters have turned into their eyelids.
وهل تَرضَى وحُكمُ نَداكَ أمضَى
بأن أُمسِي لَها أبداً رَهِينا
Would you consent—when the decree of your bounty is mightier—
that I should remain their prisoner forever?
Sol 5.6