أغالب فيك الشوق والشوق أغلب — Al Mutanabbi

I struggle against longing for you, but longing is stronger.

I marvel at this estrangement, though reunion is more marvelous.

Will the days never err in my favor, letting me see

a hated one they send far away, or a beloved they bring near?

How wondrous, by God, my journey—how little hesitation there was

that evening east of al-Hadali and Ghurrab!

That evening, the most attentive to me was the one I had shunned,

and the surer of the two roads was the one I avoided.

How many favors the darkness of night has granted you,

declaring that the Manichaeans lie!

It shielded you from death at your enemies' hands as you traveled toward them by night,

and in it the veiled, coquettish beloved visited you.

And many a day like lovers' night I spent in hiding,

watching the sun to see when it would set.

My gaze was fixed on the ears of a white-blazed horse, as though it were

a remnant of night, with a star between its eyes.

Its hide has room to spare beyond its body,

moving to and fro over a broad chest.

I cleaved the darkness on it; I draw in its rein,

and it rebels; I loosen it time after time, and it frolics.

I fell whichever wild beast I pursue on it,

and when I dismount, it is just as it was when I mounted.

Horses, like friends, are few indeed,

though they seem many to the eye of one who does not test them.

If you see only the beauty of their markings

and their limbs, true beauty is hidden from you.

May God curse this world as a resting place for a rider,

for everyone of far-reaching ambition is tormented in it.

Ah, would that I knew: shall I ever compose a poem

in which I neither complain nor voice reproach?

I bear suffering whose slightest part would drive poetry from me,

but my heart, O daughter of the tribe, is ever-changing.

Kafur's virtues, when I wish to praise him,

and even when I do not, dictate to me, and I write.

When a man leaves his family behind

and heads toward Kafur, he is no stranger.

A noble youth who fills his deeds with judgment and wisdom,

and rare excellence, in moments of pleasure and anger.

When his hand strikes with the sword in battle,

you realize that the sword strikes by means of the hand.

His gifts increase in abundance as time passes,

while the waters of the clouds linger, then run dry.

Abu al-Misk, is there anything left in the cup that I may receive?

For I have been singing for some time while you drink.

You gave by the measure of our age's two hands,

while my soul asks by the measure of your two hands.

If you do not entrust me with an estate or a governorship,

your generosity clothes me, but your preoccupation strips me bare.

At this festival, everyone shares laughter with his beloved

beside me, while I weep for those I love and lament.

I yearn for my family and long to meet them,

but how far beyond the yearning one's reach is the Anqa Mughrib!

If the choice is only Abu al-Misk or them,

then you are sweeter and more delightful to my heart.

Everyone who bestows kindness is beloved,

and every place where honor grows is pleasant.

The envious wish against you what God will repel,

as will the brown shafts of tall spears and the sharpened steel.

And barring what they seek is something: were they to escape

from it into death, you would live on while even a child turned gray.

When they seek your bounty, they are given gifts and made arbiters;

but if they seek the excellence within you, they are disappointed.

If they could possess your eminence, you would bestow it,

but some things cannot be given.

The most unjust of the unjust is the one who spends the night envying

one in whose bounty he spends the night luxuriating.

You are the one who reared this kingdom as its nurse,

and it has no mother but you, nor father.

You were to it as the den's lion is to its cub,

and you have no claw but the Indian sword.

You faced the spears on its behalf with a noble soul

that flees disgrace toward death in battle.

Death may spare the soul that does not fear it,

and snatch away the soul that is afraid.

Those who met you did not lack courage or strength,

but the one they met was stronger and nobler.

He drove them back; the lightning of swords among helmets struck true

against them, while the lightning of helmets among swords was a rainless flash.

You drew swords that taught every preacher

on every wooden pulpit how to pray and preach.

You need none of the lineages people claim, for

noble deeds culminate in you and trace their lineage to you.

And what tribe's stature could encompass you?

May Ma'add son of Adnan and Ya'rub be your ransom!

My delight when I saw you was nothing new;

indeed, I had hoped to see you and rejoice.

My rhymes and my ambition reproach me concerning you,

as though I were guilty for praising anyone before praising you.

But the road grew long, and I have never ceased

being searched for this verse, while it is plundered.

So it went east until the East had no farther east,

and west until the West had no farther west.

When I utter it, its arrival cannot be barred by

a lofty wall or a tent stretched taut with ropes.