أَلا أَبلِغ فلانَ الدين عَتبي
عَلَيهِ فقَد تَمادى في الجَفاءِ
Tell So-and-so al-Dīn how I reproach him:
he has persisted far too long in cold estrangement.
صَفَوت لَهُ ضَميراً وَاعتِقاداً
فَجازاني بِمَذقٍ لا صَفاءِ
Toward him I was pure in conscience and conviction,
yet he repaid me with adulterated friendship, devoid of purity.
وَرامَت مُهجَتي مِنهُ وَفاءً
وَهَل خِلّ يَدوم أَخا وَفاءِ
My heart sought fidelity from him—
but what friend endures as a brother true?
وَكانَ شِفاءَ نَفسي أَن تَراه
يَزور فَعزَّ وُجدانُ الشفاءِ
My soul’s healing would have been to see him
pay a visit; yet that cure proved beyond my reach.
وَلَو أَنَّ الفلانَ عَراه خَطب
لَكنت لما عَراه ذا اكتِفاءِ
Had some grave calamity befallen So-and-so,
I would have sufficed him against whatever befell.
أَرُدُّ عراه مَفلول شباة
فَتُصبح نارهم ذاتَ اِنطِفاءِ
I would have beaten back what assailed him, its blade blunted,
until their fire was extinguished.
وأذكرُه وَأَنصُرهُ بِخَير
وَأحفَظُه بِغَيبٍ وَاختِفاءِ
I speak well of him and come to his defense,
and guard his honor when he is absent and unseen.
وَأعذِل ثُم أَعذِرُ مِنهُ صَبّاً
تَشاغَلَ بِالبَنين وَبِالرفاءِ
I reproach, then excuse, the lover in him,
distracted by his sons and his riches.
وَرُبَّتَما يُقيم لَديَّ عُذراً
أَرقَّ مِن الهَباءَة وَالسَفاءِ
Time and again he offers me an excuse
more tenuous than a floating mote or blown dust.
فَغَيري لَو دَعاهُ لِبَعض أَمرٍ
لَبادَرَ ذا اِحتِفالٍ وَاحتِفاءِ
Yet if someone else invited him for some affair,
he would hasten there with ceremony and warm welcome.
تَميل النَفسُ حَيثُ يَكون فيه
هَواها ما بِذَلِكَ مِن خَفاءِ
The soul inclines toward wherever it finds
its own desire—there is no hiding that.
وَفي حاجاتِ غَيري ذا اِهتِمام
وَفي حاجِي تَراهُ ذا اِنكِفاءِ
For the needs of others he shows concern,
but at my need you see him shrink away.
نَفَضتُ يَدي مِن الأَصحابِ طُراً
عَلى آثارهم دِيَمُ العَفاءِ
I have shaken my hands clean of all companions;
may ceaseless rains of oblivion erase their tracks.
لَئن أَصبَحتُ فيهِم ذا اِنتِقاءٍ
لَقَد أَمسَيت مِنهُم ذا اِنتِفاءِ
Though morning found me choosing among them,
by evening I had become one who cast them off.
وَكُنتُ أَظنُّهُم زُبداً فَبانوا
لَنا زَبَداً ذَهوباً كَالجَفاءِ
I thought them cream; they proved instead
mere vanishing foam, swept away like scum.
أَفي مِثلي يَضيعُ جَميلُ فعلٍ
وَعَن مثلي يُعرِّدُ ذو اِصطِفاءِ
Can the generous deeds of one like me go to waste,
and can a chosen friend turn away from one like me?
مِن المصريِّ لا تَرجو وَفاءً
فَقَد خُلِقوا بِلا واوٍ وَفاءِ
Expect no fidelity from an Egyptian:
they were created without the wāw in wafāʾ—“fidelity.”
Sol 5.6