حمامة الدوح في شدو وتلحين — Mufti Fathallah

O dove of the grove, in song and melody,

How long, my reproacher, will you reproach me for love?

And how can I bear her reproach—O my anguish!

And reproach is a fire with which she sears me in the heart.

I became enamored of a beauty before passion and love,

And became her lover before my own creation.

I loved her before her form was fashioned,

When Adam was between water and clay.

None but the gardens of eternity were her birthplace;

Do you not see she appeared among their wide-eyed houris?

I strayed from sound judgment through the light of her face,

And the light in her was guiding me toward shade.

Slender-waisted, like a swaying shoot upon a bough,

She sways gently to teach the boughs.

Indeed, Qays was one of the madmen,

And in love I am all the madmen.

I cast off the fetter of my modesty when she appeared,

Until, to my pride, she called me: 'You are my madman.'

And for her I sold the life of my soul for a price

Paltry—yet in my sale I was not cheated.

She has indeed shunned me with a harshness without cause;

What do you see, then, in abandoning a wretched man?

Perhaps she saw in it the slaughter of the sorrowful man,

For estrangement slaughters without a knife.

You seized a lovesick man's mind, with which you had toyed,

And lodged his heart in the fire of Sijjin.

And for her he was a man of yearning, lost in love's bewilderment,

When she addressed him with the letters kaf and nun.

O pearl of beauty, what is this distance? For indeed,

You have seared the heart of a sorrowful man enthralled by you.

And you are a spreading tree of kindness; when you bend,

You sway, scattering gentleness and tenderness.

You have indeed imprisoned Ibn Fath Allah—alas for me!

In a prison of estrangement where a captive is humbled.

Take battle, for victory commends it;

Indeed, battle came to support the faith.

Have you not seen al-Fath reciting praise, extolling

Muhammad—how he recites the verses of Ya Sin?

A name for him is drawn from the essence of praise,

And an auspicious name is given to an auspicious man.

He whose every hour, through the beauty of its radiance,

Is springtime, even in the month of Kanun.

In him, forbearance has a carpet never rolled up,

And deliberation has beauty enfolded in embellishment.

And majesty has reverence through double meaning,

And dignity has beauty within adornment.

He is indeed the most glorious, raised high in honor,

A lion-cub of the noble, the illustrious, the blessed.

He whose glory is woven of might and honor,

And the fabric of lofty virtues is the finest weave.

He who trod the head of might's Pleiades underfoot,

And this is honor, not the trampling of packhorses.

Jerusalem takes pride in the sanctuary it contains,

Just as pride has arisen through him for Damun.

An ocean of learning whose shores are unknown,

A ship in which excellence appears as the finest cargo.

A solver of difficulties, an untangler of problems,

An unveiler of obscurities with lucid explanation.

The central jewel of a necklace, a gemstone of the age,

Whose worth no valuation can adequately assess.

The learned, virtuous, consummate scholar—our master,

His excellence firmly rooted in sound principles.

The brilliant, peerless one in skill and discernment,

In him, the branches of knowledge have gained firm establishment.

The gnostic, the ascetic, immersed in scrupulous piety,

The sun of Truth, of the world, and of the faith.

He offered sincere friendship and received it, until he adorned even wool

With a robe of purity, in beauty and embellishment.

So transmit the tradition of piety on an authority like his;

You will narrate the tradition of piety from the most trustworthy.

I praised him, unable to fulfill the duty of praising him,

Like a decrepit old man, unable to perform obligatory or recommended acts.

No wonder I fall short in praising his noble qualities:

For the ocean's waves weary me in the counting.

O ocean of generosity and knowledge,

Whose like has existed neither in India nor in China,

To you I have offered a virgin, daughter of a needy man;

So accept, companion of eminence, a poor man's gift.

She came secluded, and al-Fath veils her

From anyone but you; take her without obligation.

And pearls look beautiful when hidden and concealed,

Nor do they lose their beauty when unconcealed.

And be safe and endure, seeing no trouble through the ages,

At ease in mind, amid gentleness and tenderness,

As long as the hills' bough sways in dance when it sees

The dove of the grove in song and melody.