بَكَتْ فَقَدْ أكديشي خيولُ المرابطِ
وناحَ عَلَيهِ كلُّ غازٍ مُرابطِ
My horse Akydeshe wept when he died,
And every veteran warrior mourned for him.
لقد كانَ شيخاً ما يزالُ محنّكاً
بِتَجربةٍ ذا فِطْنة بشَرائطِ
He was an old horse, always alert and wise,
With great experience and clever tricks.
وكانَ إذا ما راثَ أجمعُ رَوْثَهُ
بكفِّي وأحويهِ لهُ في الخرائطِ
When he needed to relieve himself,
I would catch it in my hands and wrap it in maps.
وما كانَ من فرطِ الشّجا قطُّ وارداً
سوى ما أسقيهِ لهُ بالمَساعِطِ
He never suffered from extreme hunger,
Except what I fed him with ladles.
وَكُنْتُ عليهِ راكباً مثل راجلٍ
لِحُقْرَتِهِ أو صاعداً مثلَ هابطِ
I would ride him like walking on foot,
Because he was so weak, or mount him like descending steps.
تمرُّ بِنا الأَبطالُ وَهْوَ مكانَهُ
كأنِّي منهُ راكِبٌ فوقَ حائطِ
The heroes would pass by as he stood in his place,
As if I was riding high on a wall.
وما سُقتُه في السُّوقِ إلاَّ تغامزَتْ
على أخذهِ منِّي كلابُ المَسافِطِ
I would only take him to the market and the dogs
Would snap to take him from me, the filthy mutts.
قَضى فربوعُ الزِّبلِ منهُ دَوارسٌ
وقد نَسَفتها ريحُ تلكَ المضارطِ
The winds of those abandoned places finished off
What remained of him, blowing away the bits.
وما ساءني إلاّ بنو الضّوءِ عندما
بَدَوا بينَّ سلاّخٍ لجلدٍ وكاشطِ
What saddened me most was when the jackals
Came flaying his skin and scraping it clean.
وكم قالَ لي إذْ كانَ يأكلُ زِبلَهُ
أتمنَعُني لِلْجوعِ مِنْ أكلِ غائِطي
And how he told me as he ate his dung,
“Do you deny me food and prevent me from eating my feces?”
فَقُلتُ لهُ يكفيكَ زِبلُكَ بُلغَةً
إذا عزَّ ما تقتاتُهُ كالمغالِطِ
I told him, “Your dung should suffice,
If you value what you eat like false arguments.”
فَهَمْلَجَ من غَيظٍ عَلَى بَرِفَسة
وقد كانَ لولا غَيظهُ غَيرَ ناشطِ
He snorted angrily at my response,
Although without his anger he was inactive.
وَضَرَّطَ في وجهي ثمانينَ ضَرْطةً
فَتَبّاً لأَشياخ الخُيولِ الضّوارطِ
He farted in my face eighty farts,
Curse the farts of old horses!
وقالَ لحاكَ الله منْ مُتَصنعٍ
يُصَوَقُني بالمَسحِ مثلَ المواِشط
And he said to spite me, “God has fashioned you
To wipe me like cleaning rags.”
وَبَطْنيَ خالٍ مثلَ راسك فارغٌ
على أَنّهُ من حُرقةٍ مثل شائطِ
“My belly is empty like your hollow head,
As if scorched by flames,” he continued.
فأغلقتُ للأصطَبلِ باباً مُوَثّقاً
وغادرتُه في زبْلهِ أيَّ خابط
So I locked the stable door securely
And left him in his dung, the audacious one!
فأصبَح مرفوعَ القوائمِ داعِياً
عَلَيَّ ولم أَقْدَرْ على رد فاقطِ
In the morning he stood on his legs calling me,
But I could not answer the lacking one.
وعاينتُه كالطّبلِ مُنْتَفخاً وَقَدْ
أُضيفَ إلى موتي الخيولِ السّواقطِ
I saw him bloated like a drum,
Added to the list of my fallen horses.
وجاءَتْ كلابُ السُّوقِ ما بينَ لاهثٍ
طماعِيَةً فيه وما بينَ لاعطِ
The market dogs came, both starving
And greedy for him, and others not wanting.
فأعلَيتُ صوتي بالبكاءِ لفَقْدِهِ
فآهاً عليه من أنيس مُخالط
I cried loudly for his loss -
Oh what a dear companion I have lost!
