حياةٌ أَسرَّ العَيش فيها مَذمَّم
وَناسٌ بِها قَلبُ الخليِّ متيَّمُ
A life whose living is miserable,
And people in it whose hearts are sad.
سَقَت كُلَّ قَلبِ كُلّ يَومٍ مَشارِباً
توهَّمَ فيها لَذةً وَهِيَ عَلقَمُ
Every day it gives each heart drinks
In which it imagines pleasure, but they are bitter.
تَشاغَلَتِ الأَلبابُ فيها مِن الصِّبى
وَلَم تَكُ أَدنى صَبوةً حينَ تحلمُ
Hearts were busy with youthful passions
And were not chaste even for a moment when they came of age.
تَبطَّلَ كُلٌ بالأَماني وَلَم يَزَل
يَروحُ وَيَغدو وَهوَ لِلمَوتِ مَغنَمُ
Everyone was heedless with wishes and never stopped
Going and coming while death was a gain for him.
وَما الأَرضُ إِلّا قَفرةٌ زَأَرَتْ بِها
أَسودُ المَنايا حَولنا وَهِيَ حوَّمُ
The earth is nothing but a howling wasteland
Where the black deaths prowl around us growling.
لَها كُلّ يَومِ بَيننا كُلّ مُنذِرٍ
يُنادي عَلينا مُسمِعاً وَهوَ أَبكمُ
Each day it has among us every warner
Calling out to us, hearing yet mute.
تَنَبِّهُنا بَعضاً بِبَعضٍ فَنَنثَني
وَأَجفانُنا في غَفلةِ اللَهو نوَّمُ
We awaken each other then slumber again
While our eyelids in the intoxication of frivolity doze.
خَلَت دونَها شُمُّ الحُصون فَلَم تَكُن
لِساكِنها مِن غارةِ البينِ تعصمُ
Impregnable fortresses crumbled before it
And could not protect their inhabitants from separation.
وَأَصبَحَ مَن قَد كانَ يُرهَبُ بَأسُهُ
يُناحُ عَلَيهِ بَعدَ حينٍ وَيُرحَمُ
One whose might was feared became, after a time,
One wept for and pitied when he perished.
تُرابٌ مِنَ الأَرض اِستوى تَحتَ صورةٍ
تَلوحُ عَلَيها مُدةً ثُم تهدمُ
He was dust made equal beneath an image
That shone for a while, then crumbled.
أَحبَّتَنا ما أَعذَبَ الهَجرَ بَينَنا
إِذا كانَ حَبلُ الوَصلِ لا بُدَّ يَفصمُ
Our loved ones, how sweet is separation between us
When the cord of union must inevitably be severed!
أَنِسنا بِطيبِ الوَصلِ في الأَرضِ مُدةً
وَما طيبُ وَصلٍ بِالتَفرُّقِ يَشؤمُ
We enjoyed the sweetness of union on earth for a time,
Yet nothing corrupts union like parting.
سَلامٌ عَلى قَبرٍ تَوسَّدَ تربَهُ
حَبيبٌ عَلَيهِ مِن بَعيدٍ أَسلِّمُ
Greetings to a grave in whose soil rests
A beloved, to whom from afar I bid peace.
وَما كانَ يُجدي لَو تَدانى وَدونَهُ
مِن الرَمسِ قَد أَمسى حِجابٌ مُخيِّمُ
It would not have helped had he drawn near, with
An impenetrable barrier of burial soil covering him.
لَئن لَم تُصِب عَينِي ثَراهُ فَإِنَّ لي
هُنالك قَلباً مِنهُ قَد قَطر الدَّمُ
If my eyes do not behold his tomb, still
My heart there drops blood for him.
وَما جَفَّ دَمعي بَعدَهُ غَيرَ أَنَّهُ
يُدبِّجُ خَضراءَ الرُبَى حينَ يَسجمُ
My tears have not dried since he left, though they
Adorn the green plants when they pour down.
نَعاهُ لَنا الناعِي فَفِي كُل مِسمَعٍ
كَلامٌ وَلَكن في الأَضالعِ أَسهُمُ
The announcer announced his death, so every ear
Hears words, but in the chests are arrows.
تَنوحُ عَلى فَقَدِ الأَميرِ مُحَمدٍ
رِجالٌ عَلَيهِ بِالدِّما تَتَلَثَّمُ
Men weep for the loss of Prince Muhammad,
Their beards dripping with blood as they mourn.
عَزيزٌ لَهُ في كُلِّ عَينٍ مَدامِعٌ
وَفي كُلِّ قَلبٍ جَمرةٌ تَتَضَرَّمُ
Dear to every eye are tears for him,
And in each heart an ember smoldering.
وَكَم مِن جُيوبٍ بَل قُلوبٌ تَشَقَّقَت
عَلَيهِ وَكَم مِن أَوجُهٍ فيهِ تُلطَمُ
How many breasts, nay hearts, split open for him,
How many faces are wounded for him!
وَلمَّا نَعى في أَرضِ لُبنانَ أَوشَكَت
جَنادِلُهُ مِن حَسرةٍ تَتَألَّمُ
When he died in the land of Lebanon, his troops
Nearly perished from anguish and pain.
كَريمٌ لَهُ مِن آلِ رَسلانَ مَحتِدٌ
وَمِن نَفسِهِ مَجدٌ سَنيٌّ مُعَظَّمُ
Noble, with a lineage from the House of Raslan
And from himself an elevated, venerated glory.
وَمِن ذكرِهِ ما يَعجَزُ الدَهرُ سَلبَهُ
وَمِن شُكرهِ في كُلِّ ذي مَنطقٍ فَمُ
Of his mention time cannot rob him,
And gratitude for him is on every eloquent tongue.
أَيا مَن قَضى في غَربةِ الدارِ نازِحاً
فَكُلُّ فُؤادٍ نازحٍ مُتَصَرِّمُ
O you who passed away in exile from your homeland,
Every exiled heart is desolate and bereaved.
رُوَيدَكَ ما لِلصَبر بَعدَك مِن يَدٍ
إِذا ما اِقتَضى الصَبرَ المُصابُ العرمَرَمُ
Gently, my friend! Without you, patience has no power
When calamity makes even patience collapse.
تَرَحَّلتَ في شَرخِ الشَبابِ مُغادِراً
مِنَ الحُزنِ ما يُودي الشَبابَ وَيَهرمُ
You journeyed away in the prime of youth,
Leaving behind sorrow that destroys youth and makes it decay.
وَمِثلَكَ مَن حُقَّ التَأسُّفُ بَعدَهُ
وَغَيركَ مَخلوفٌ وَمِثلكَ يُعدمُ
And the like of you—who deserves to be mourned after—
Is rare, while the like of you is nonexistent.
تَنوحُ القَوافي بَعد يَومِكَ حَسرةً
فنُوشِكُ نَخشى نَثرَها حينَ تُنظَمُ
The rhymes weep in sorrow after your day,
So we fear their scattering when they are composed.
وَتَندُبكَ الأَقلامُ مِن حَيثُ رَدَّدَت
حَنيناً وَأَجرَت عَبرةً حينَ ترقمُ
The pens eulogize you wherever they flowing
With yearning and shedding copious tears as they write.
وَبَينَ المَذاكي وَالسُيوفِ مَناحةٌ
وَبَينَ الحِجى وَالعلمِ وَالمَجدِ مَأتَمُ
Between swords and bookcases, anguish,
Between dignity, knowledge, and glory, bereavement.
إِلا يا بَني رَسلانَ صَبراً لِفَقدِهِ
فَذَلِكَ مِمَّا يَقتَضيهِ التَكَرُّمُ
Except—O House of Raslan—show patience for his loss.
That is what nobility requires.
إِذا ما دَفَعنا لِلبَليَّةِ مَرةً
وَلَم نَنتَفع بِالحُزنِ فَالصَبرُ أَحزمُ
When we hand misfortune over once,
And do not benefit from grief, patience is wiser.
جَرى قَدرُ المَولَى بِما شاءَ وَاِستَوى
لَدَيهِ جَزوعٌ في الأَسى وَمُسلِّمُ
The decree of the Master has run its course as He willed,
Resignation in sorrow is equal before Him.
وَلَيسَ لَنا مِن مَطمَعٍ فاتَ نَيلُهُ
إِذا كانَ ما نَبغيهِ ما لَيسَ يَغنَمُ
We have no hope of attaining what is gone;
What we desire is what does not profit.
وَما كانَ ما لا بُدَّ مِنهُ مُؤخَّراً
يَهونُ لَدَيهِ الرزءُ وَهوَ مُقدَّمُ
What cannot be avoided if deferred
Is easier for him, while it is brought forward.
وَما الفَرقُ في الحالَينِ إِلا هُنَيهَةٌ
تَمرّ سَريعاً وَالقَضا مُتَحَتَّمُ
The difference in the two cases is but a fleeting
Moment, while the decree is inescapable.
