ما بالُ قلبكَ زاد في ولوالهِ
فتراهُ لا يصغي إِلى عذّالهِ
Why has your heart grown fonder, though it spurns the blame?
It heeds no chiding, though reproached by many a dame.
أشجاهُ حادثُ دهرهِ أم هاجهُ
رسمٌ عفا مغناهُ من نزّالهِ
Did Time afflict it, or did it take this course,
When from its guidance strayed the songs it used to frame?
ومعصفرُ الخدّينِ ما لاحظته
إلّا رَماني راشقاً بنبالهِ
Those rosy cheeks betray no trace of all their tears,
Save only when my glances strike them, in their shame.
غنج أسيلُ الخدِّ ريقةُ ثغرهِ
كالشهدِ شيبَ مزاجهُ بزلالهِ
Smooth as pure honey is that chin’s coquettish bow,
As though its dimples sugar crystallized became.
يا عذَّلي في حبِّه ما الفكر في
عينٍ مسهّدةٍ وقلب والهِ
O critic, chide me not for loving him, since love
Allows no thought but of the idol it acclaim.
ظبيٌ مراعيهِ رياضُ قلوبنا
لا الروض من نبتِ العرار وضالهِ
A gazelle whose pasture is our hearts, not the wild,
With tangled growths of lotus flowers and artemisia rife.
كَمُلت بدائعُ حسنه فكأنّه
بدرُ السما في حسنهِ وكمالهِ
So perfected are beauty’s charms in him, you’d say
He is the moon of heaven in his fair shape and life.
نار السعيرِ وجنَّة الفردوس لي
مَضمونتان بهجرهِ ووصالهِ
For me, Hell’s raging fires and Paradise’s joys
Are pledged in him, as in his union and his strife.
فالليلُ تحتَ قناعه والشمس تح
تَ لِثامه والدعص في سربالهِ
The night’s beneath his collar, while the sun’s beneath
His veil; his turban is the darkness and the light.
وكأنَّ فاعم ساقهِ برديّة
إِذ فاضَ مُندمجاً على خلخالهِ
His leg, as he walks proud, is like a branching palm,
When it emerges draped in anklets ringing bright.
وَتَرى على خدّيهِ سلسال الحيا
يَجري فواعطشي إلى سلسالهِ
You see upon his cheeks a chain of life that flows,
So give me drink from off that chain, its draught is sweet.
بدرٌ إِذا ما دار كان مدارهُ
ما بينَ أربعهِ وبين حجالهِ
The moon in its phases, wheeling high to low,
Runs its appointed course, from four to incompleteness.
أجدُ الرَدى أبداً بهجرته وقد
أَحيا إِذا قبّلت عقرب خالهِ
Estrangement kills me, while a kiss upon the mole
Restores me, when his crescent happens to increase.
ما جادَ لي من وصلهِ بقليلهِ
وكثيرهِ وحرامه وحلالهِ
Scant is the joy he grants from union with him, though
Its states are many - forbidden, lawful, purest.
ما إِن تصدّى بالدلال تعرّضا
إلّا سَبى قَلبي بحسن دلالهِ
No sooner does he walk, exposing leg and flank,
Than hearts are made his captives by such tempting sleights.
وَلَقد قطعتُ المهلكات بأعيس
نضو تُباري الريحَ في إرقالهِ
Many a roving camel have I brought to kneel,
Whose speed could match the racing winds in their caprice.
جوّاب عرض قفارهِ متواشك
في وخدهِ خوّاض لجّةِ آلهِ
An army on the march, whose squadrons shake the ground,
Assailing stubborn mountain heights and battlemented keeps.
فأظلُّ في تلكَ المهامهِ ناشداً
بِغرائبِ الأشعارِ فوق رحالهِ
And I remain there, challenging with subtle verse,
While o’er the hills my camel climbs and does not cease.
شعرٌ أَتى بالمدحِ في عليا أبي
سلطان كالديباج في هلهالهِ
A poem have I wrought to praise this noble king,
As brocades beautify the throne they decorate.
ملكٌ إِذا الأمطارُ عزّ نزولها
أَغنى عنِ الأمطار فيض نوالهِ
When rains refrain, his gifts enrich the land no less
Than showers, and beyond all hopes his bounty runs increase.
نسخَ الزمانُ بعدله إِدباره
بطوالعِ الإقبال من إقبالهِ
By his fair deeds of justice Time itself turned back
In its revolving course and travelled to what was before.
وَتَرى عليهِ سرادقاً مضروبةً
من قدرهِ وفخاره وجلالهِ
Above his head you see a tent of honour reared,
Made from his quality, nobility and worth.
وَتكادُ عينُ الشمسِ من أفلاكها
تهوي إِلى تقبيلِ ترب نعالهِ
The sun itself in heaven might wish that it could swoop
To kiss the dust his slippers press upon the floor.
سمح الزمانُ بهِ وما من قبله
سمحَ الزمانُ من الورى بمثالهِ
Time relented for his sake as never it relented
For all mankind together in the days of yore.
ما جئتهُ مُستمحياً أو وافداً
إلّا وجادَ بجاهه وبمالهِ
When suppliants seek his aid, his gifts go without count,
And when the time comes to punish criminals, his blows are sure.
يُقري سباعَ البيد من أعدائهِ
فَكأنّهنّ لديه بعض عيالهِ
A lion raking enemies with piercing claws,
Yet sheltering his cubs with a protective gentleness.
في معجزاتِ المجدِ في كبّارهِ
في موجباتِ الدين من أبدالهِ
In feats of glory and in greatness he is peerless,
In faith’s strict duties and observance without flaw.
ما في المَعالي مثله خلق ولا
آلٌ تفرّد بالفخارِ كآلهِ
None in the heights of honour can compare with him,
No house was ever sole inheritor of worth so pure.
يُعطي ويمنع جاره ووفوده
ويكرُّ يومَ الطعن في أبدالهِ
Giving or withholding, he respects his neighbour’s rights,
But woe betide who would malign him or rebel.
كاللّيثِ ينشب في القميصِ مخالباً
وَيظلّ مُحتمياً إِلى أشبالهِ
Like lions ravening, or clouds in thunder bursting,
Or Time itself, wreaking vengeance with might secure.
كالشمسِ في إجلالهِ كالغيثِ في
إِسباله كالدهر في إمهالهِ
Were East and West weighed with him in the scales
They could not match the value of his little finger.
لو وازنَ الدنيا وَساكنها معاً
ما وازنوا في القدرِ ظفر شمالهِ
O moon, whose auspicious fortunes are controlled by none,
You pass your phases guided by no law of loss or gain.
يا أيُّها البدر الّذي في سعدهِ
لَم تقتضي أفلاكهُ بزوالهِ
This is your constant circuit round the mansions
Of honour, higher than the sun or crescent plain.
هَذا مدارُ بروجِ مجدك قد علا
أَعلى منازل شمسه وهلالهِ
By trials you were schooled in wisdom and refined
As swords rubbed and ground until no flaws remain.
إنَّ التجارب هذّبتكَ بحكمها
كالسيفِ أطلق حدّه بصقالهِ
To you, O ancient pillar, marvellous reports
Are brought from exile by the experimentally wise.
وَإِليك يا شمسَ العتيق غريبةً
تنسي شدا غيلان عند بلالهِ
