مَنِ الجَآذِرُ في زِيِّ الأَعاريبِ
حُمرَ الحُلى وَالمَطايا وَالجَلابيبِ
Who are these gazelles in Bedouin guise?
Crimson their ornaments, their camels, and their robes.
إِن كُنتَ تَسأَلُ شَكّاً في مَعارِفِها
فَمَن بَلاكَ بِتَسهيدٍ وَتَعذيبِ
If you ask in doubt of who they might be,
Then who has afflicted you with sleeplessness and pain?
لا تَجزِني بِضَناً بي بَعدَها بَقَرٌ
تَجزي دُموعِيَ مَسكوباً بِمَسكوبِ
Let not these wild cows repay my sickness with more disdain;
My tears repay a flow with a flow in kind.
سَوائِرٌ رُبَّما سارَت هَوادِجُها
مَنيعَةً بَينَ مَطعونٍ وَمَضروبِ
Travelers whose howdahs drift along,
Well-guarded midst the stabbed and the struck.
وَرُبَّما وَخَدَت أَيدي المَطيِّ بِها
عَلى نَجيعٍ مِنَ الفُرسانِ مَصبوبِ
And perhaps the mounts' hooves have paced with them,
Over the spilled lifeblood of fallen knights.
كَم زَورَةٍ لَكَ في الأَعرابِ خافِيَةٍ
أَدهى وَقَد رَقَدوا مِن زَورَةِ الذيبِ
How many a secret visit you made among the tribes,
More cunning, while they slept, than the stalking wolf.
أَزورُهُم وَسَوادُ اللَيلِ يَشفَعُ لي
وَأَنثَني وَبَياضُ الصُبحِ يُغري بي
I visit them when night's blackness pleads my cause,
And return when dawn's whiteness betrays my path.
قَد وافَقوا الوَحشَ في سُكنى مَراتِعِها
وَخالَفوها بِتَقويضٍ وَتَطنيبِ
They share the wild beasts' dwelling in the wilds,
Yet differ in striking tents and tightening ropes.
جِيرانُها وَهُمُ شَرُّ الجِوارِ لَها
وَصَحبُها وَهُمُ شَرُّ الأَصاحيبِ
Neighbors to the game, yet the worst of neighbors they,
Companions to the herd, yet the deadliest of friends.
فُؤادُ كُلِّ مُحِبٍّ في بُيوتِهِمِ
وَمالُ كُلِّ أَخيذِ المالِ مَحروبِ
In their tents lies the heart of every lover,
And the wealth of every raider lies despoiled.
ما أَوجُهُ الحَضَرِ المُستَحسَناتُ بِهِ
كَأَوجُهِ البَدَوِيّاتِ الرَعابيبِ
The city faces, beautified with art,
Are naught to the Bedouin faces, soft and fair.
حُسنُ الحَضارَةِ مَجلوبٌ بِتَطرِيَةٍ
وَفي البَداوَةِ حُسنٌ غَيرُ مَجلوبِ
The city's beauty is a crafted, borrowed thing,
But in the wild, beauty is nature's own, unbought.
أَينَ المَعيزُ مِنَ الآرامِ ناظِرَةً
وَغَيرَ ناظِرَةٍ في الحُسنِ وَالطيبِ
What are goats to the white antelopes when they gaze?
Or even ungazing, in beauty and in scent?
أَفدي ظِباءَ فَلاةٍ ماعَرَفنَ بِها
مَضغَ الكَلامِ وَلا صَبغَ الحَواجيبِ
I ransom the desert does who never learned
To mince their words or dye their eyebrows dark.
وَلا بَرَزنَ مِنَ الحَمّامِ ماثِلَةً
أَوراكُهُنَّ صَقيلاتِ العَراقيبِ
Nor stepped they from the bath with prominent hips,
And ankles scrubbed and polished to a shine.
وَمِن هَوى كُلِّ مَن لَيسَت مُمَوَّهَةً
تَرَكتُ لَونَ مَشيبي غَيرَ مَخضوبِ
For love of one who wears no mask or paint,
I left the color of my gray hair undyed.
وَمِن هَوى الصِدقِ في قَولي وَعادَتِهِ
رَغِبتُ عَن شَعَرٍ في الرَأسِ مَكذوبِ
And from a love of truth in word and habit,
I shunned the hair that lies upon the head.
لَيتَ الحَوادِثَ باعَتني الَّذي أَخَذَت
مِنّي بِحِلمي الَّذي أَعطَت وَتَجريبي
Would that Fortune sold back what it stole from me,
For the wisdom and experience it gave in turn.
فَما الحَداثَةُ مِن حِلمٍ بِمانِعَةٍ
قَد يوجَدُ الحِلمُ في الشُبّانِ وَالشيبِ
Yet youth is no barrier to a measured mind;
Wisdom dwells in the young as in the gray.
تَرَعرَعَ المَلِكُ الأُستاذُ مُكتَهِلاً
قَبلَ اِكتِهالٍ أَديباً قَبلَ تَأديبِ
The Master King grew up mature in youth,
Cultured and wise before he was ever taught.
مُجَرَّباً فَهَماً مِن قَبلِ تَجرِبَةٍ
مُهَذَّباً كَرَماً مِن غَيرِ تَهذيبِ
Experienced in grasp before the event,
Refined in grace without a refining hand.
حَتّى أَصابَ مِنَ الدُنيا نِهايَتَها
وَهَمُّهُ في اِبتِداءاتٍ وَتَشبيبِ
Until he grasped the utmost of this world,
While his ambition was but starting its ascent.
يُدَبِّرُ المُلكَ مِن مِصرٍ إِلى عَدَنٍ
إِلى العِراقِ فَأَرضِ الرومِ فَالنُوَبِ
He rules the realm from Egypt down to Aden,
To Iraq, the Roman lands, and Nubian soil.
إِذا أَتَتها الرِياحُ النُكبُ مِن بَلَدٍ
فَما تَهُبُّ بِها إِلّا بِتَرتيبِ
If adverse winds approach from any land,
They dare not blow save by his strict decree.
وَلا تُجاوِزُها شَمسٌ إِذا شَرَقَت
إِلّا وَمِنهُ لَها إِذنٌ بِتَغريبِ
Nor does the sun pass over when it rises,
Unless it has his leave to set again.
يُصَرِّفُ الأَمرَ فيها طينُ خاتِمِهِ
وَلَو تَطَلَّسَ مِنهُ كُلُّ مَكتوبِ
The clay of his seal commands the state's affairs,
Though every written word be blurred and dim.
يَحِطَّ كُلَّ طَويلِ الرُمحِ حامِلُهُ
مِن سَرجِ كُلِّ طَويلِ الباعِ يَعبوبِ
It brings down every bearer of the lance,
From the saddle of the swift and striding steed.
كَأَنَّ كُلَّ سُؤالٍ في مَسامِعِهِ
قَميصُ يوسُفَ في أَجفانِ يَعقوبِ
As if each plea that falls upon his ear
Were Joseph's shirt upon Jacob's eyes.
إِذا غَزَتهُ أَعاديهِ بِمَسأَلَةٍ
فَقَد غَزَتهُ بِجَيشٍ غَيرِ مَغلوبِ
If his foes attacked him with a mere request,
They would strike him with a force unconquerable.
أَو حارَبَتهُ فَما تَنجو بِتَقدِمَةٍ
مِمّا أَرادَ وَلا تَنجو بِتَجبيبِ
But if they war, no offering saves their skins,
Nor can they flee the doom that he ordains.
أَضرَت شَجاعَتُهُ أَقصى كَتائِبِهِ
عَلى الحِمامِ فَما مَوتٌ بِمَرهوبِ
His courage drives his furthest ranks to death,
Until the grave itself is no more feared.
قالوا هَجَرتَ إِلَيهِ الغَيثَ قُلتُ لَهُم
إِلى غُيوثِ يَدَيهِ وَالشَآبيبِ
They said, 'You left the rain for him;' I answered,
'I sought the torrents pouring from his hands.'
إِلى الَّذي تَهَبُ الدَولاتِ راحَتُهُ
وَلا يَمُنُّ عَلى آثارِ مَوهوبِ
To him whose palm bestows whole dynasties,
And never counts the favors he has sown.
وَلا يَروعُ بِمَغدورٍ بِهِ أَحَداً
وَلا يُفَزِّعُ مَوفوراً بِمَنكوبِ
He strikes no fear by treachery or guile,
Nor threatens the secure with sudden ruin.
بَلى يَروعُ بِذي جَيشٍ يُجَدِّلُهُ
ذا مِثلِهِ في أَحَمِّ النَقعِ غِربيبِ
Nay, he terrifies the armed host he fells,
Leaving their likes amid the pitch-black dust.
وَجَدتُ أَنفَعَ مالٍ كُنتُ أَذخَرُهُ
ما في السَوابِقِ مِن جَريٍ وَتَقريبِ
I found the truest wealth that I could hoard
Lay in the galloping of noble steeds.
لَمّا رَأَينَ صُروفَ الدَهرِ تَغدِرُ بي
وَفَينَ لي وَوَفَت صُمُّ الأَنابيبِ
For when they saw Time's turns betraying me,
They stayed true, as did the solid spears.
فُتنَ المَهالِكِ حَتّى قالَ قائِلُها
ماذا لَقينا مِنَ الجُردِ السَراحيبِ
They pierced the deadly wilds until one cried:
'What feats we faced from these gaunt, racing mares!'
تَهوي بِمُنجَرِدٍ لَيسَت مَذاهِبُهُ
لِلُبسِ ثَوبٍ وَمَأكولٍ وَمَشروبِ
They rush with one unburdened, whose intent
Is not for robes, or food, or wine to drink.
يَرى النُجومَ بِعَينَي مَن يُحاوِلُها
كَأَنَّها سَلَبٌ في عَينِ مَسلوبِ
He eyes the stars as one who seeks their height,
Like plunder in a captive's longing gaze.
حَتّى وَصَلتُ إِلى نَفسٍ مُحَجَّبَةٍ
تَلقى النُفوسَ بِفَضلٍ غَيرِ مَحجوبِ
Until I reached a soul veiled in high state,
That meets all other souls with grace unveiled.
في جِسمِ أَروَعَ صافي العَقلِ تُضحِكُهُ
خَلائِقُ الناسِ إِضحاكَ الأَعاجيبِ
Housed in a form magnificent and clear,
Who laughs at human ways with wonderment.
فَالحَمدُ قَبلُ لَهُ وَالحَمدُ بَعدُ لَها
وَلِلقَنا وَلِإِدلاجي وَتَؤويبي
Praise first to him, and then praise to the beasts,
To spears, to night-treks, and to journeying back.
وَكَيفَ أَكفُرُ يا كافورُ نِعمَتَها
وَقَد بَلَغنَكَ بي يا كُلَّ مَطلوبي
How, Kafur, can I mask the blessing due,
When they have borne me to you, all my desire?
يا أَيُّها المَلِكُ الغاني بِتَسمِيَةٍ
في الشَرقِ وَالغَربِ عَن وَصفٍ وَتَلقيبِ
O King who needs no title but his name,
In East and West, above all praise and rank.
أَنتَ الحَبيبُ وَلَكِنّي أَعوذُ بِهِ
مِن أَن أَكونَ مُحِبّاً غَيرَ مَحبوبِ
You are the beloved, yet I seek your grace,
Lest I be one who loves but is not loved.
