عفاء على اللذات من بعد فارس — Al Sari Al Raffa

Oblivion upon pleasures after Faris!

For the lovely gatherings have been left empty of him.

He unveiled a noble face that shone in his robe,

As though their radiance in him were a fire-seeker's flame.

The various musical instruments are shattered after them,

As horses were hamstrung after their riders.

The glory of age-old dancing has passed, and now

The traces of amusements are like effaced ruins.

A delight that calamities struck with a crushing blow,

So it vanished; good fortune they followed with ill.

And one snatched from the midst of revelry, though never did

The hands of stealthy death reach his vital parts.

The garden of al-Yasiriyya donned mourning after him,

And its jewels had been new, its garments fresh.

And the laurel's fruits hid roses—yet how often

They had burst open, lush with moisture, among tender, swaying boughs.

After him, one keeps casting across the grove of idleness

Eyes that see it shuddering in its planted beds.

Why has piety left the scene of youthful pleasure bare,

And plotted against wishes like a rival foe?

And why are the necks of the cups unadorned,

When through him they had worn ornaments like brides'?

And why have the taverns of Iraq grown unrecognizable,

So that every welcoming place among them has become desolate?

I see their roses, some dead and some withering,

And their basil, some wilted and some dry.

May precious souls ransom you from death,

For one like you is ransomed with precious souls.

You became devout, so the night of evening wine is no longer moonlit

For us, nor is the day of morning wine sunlit.

As though you had never urged the cups along with song, while

Dawn's vanguard of light had driven on all but deep darkness.

Nor cheered the noble drinking companions with a slender-waisted one

From the Zanj, crooning at dawn and bringing cheer,

While daybreak had undone the stitching of their eyelids,

And the pealing of bells battled the sweetness of sleep.

A love whose landmarks have been effaced, as though

The hands of dust-burying winds had tossed it about.

And a dwelling that lamented parting from revelry as

The haunts of youthful dalliance lamented parting from maidens.

So the nightingale of song no longer speaks there,

And the slender branch of dance no longer sways there.

Shall I seek pleasures after Faris,

When his devotion has struck them with calamities?

Then ruin upon them, since he repented of tapping his tambourine,

And may they never be watered by the downpour of thundering rainclouds.