بادٍ هَواكَ صَبَرتَ أَم لَم تَصبِرا

وَبُكاكَ إِن لَم يَجرِ دَمعُكَ أَو جَرى

My longing has endured—or has it failed to endure?—your parting

Your passion is laid bare, endure or despair; your weeping shows, whether tears flow or freeze in air.

My crying, whether my tears flowed or not, for your loss

How often your patience and smile beguiled a friend, when he saw you, though unseen fires in your vitals pend.

كَم غَرَّ صَبرُكَ وَاِبتِسامُكَ صاحِباً

لَمّا رَآكَ وَفي الحَشى مالا يُرى

How my patience and smile have deluded a comrade

The heart bade tongue and eyelids hide the pain, yet your wasted frame proclaims what you would feign.

When he saw me, though my heart bore what he could not see

Perish the camels, save the steed that bore away a sculpted beauty, clad in silk's display.

أَمَرَ الفُؤادُ لِسانَهُ وَجُفونَهُ

فَكَتَمنَهُ وَكَفى بِجِسمِكَ مُخبِرا

My heart commanded my tongue and my eyelids

I envied the figure woven in his veil; were I that shape, I’d hide till he unveiled his face so pale.

So it silenced me, and my body sufficed to inform him

Dust not the hands that embroidered above his brow Khosrow and Caesar, guarding the gaze they bow.

تَعِسَ المَهاري غَيرَ مَهرِيٍّ غَدا

بِمُصَوَّرٍ لَبِسَ الحَريرَ مُصَوَّرا

The skilled horseman, though unskilled, rides at daybreak

Within the litter, they guard a wandering eye, for which my heart became the socket when goodbye was nigh.

A pictured saddlecloth, pictures embroidered on silk

I feared their parting long before it came, if fear could save the doomed from destiny’s flame.

نافَستُ فيهِ صورَةً في سِترِهِ

لَو كُنتُها لَخَفيتُ حَتّى يَظهَرا

On it I compete with a figure in its drapery—

Could I have ruled the skies when their scouts rode forth, I would have forbid the rain to fall on the earth.

If I were that figure I would conceal myself until revealed

For clouds are kin to the raven of their flight, weeping rain as the omen of parting cries in the night.

لا تَترَبِ الأَيدي المُقيمَةُ فَوقَهُ

كِسرى مُقامَ الحاجِبَينِ وَقَيصَرا

Let not hands that tarry above it—like Kisra’s hand, or Qaysar’s—

The camels tread no desert waste so bare, but that they tear a green robe from the earth with care.

Violate the abode of the eyebrows, and of the crowned head!

They bear a garden’s beauty, yet she captures hearts more than the wild gazelle that starts.

يَقِيانِ في أَحَدِ الهَوادِجِ مُقلَةً

رَحَلَت فَكانَ لَها فُؤادِيَ مَحجِرا

They alight in one of the litters, swaying gently—

Her glance struck me so weak, my spear ignored my hand, and rings slipped from fingers too wasted to command.

They left, but my heart has become a deserted ruin

Time offered gifts I scorned to take as mine; it chose for me, but I would choose my own design.

قَد كُنتُ أَحذَرَ بَينَهُم مِن قَبلِهِ

لَو كانَ يَنفَعُ حائِناً أَن يَحذَرا

I used to fear for them, before, from others

To Arrajan, O steeds! For my resolve is set, a force that leaves the sturdy spears broken and wet.

As if a jealous one could, by his fear, be guarded against

Had I but done what you desired, my steed, your star had never pierced the dust of this high deed.

وَلَوِ اِستَطَعتُ إِذِ اِغتَدَت رُوّادُهُم

لَمَنَعتُ كُلَّ سَحابَةٍ أَن تَقطُرا

If I could, when their visitors grew too familiar,

Guide me to Abu al-Fadl, the good, I swear to seek the sea where pearls and virtues share the air.

I would keep every rainy cloud from dripping down

All men judge by his sight; far be it from me to fall short of the praise that is his decree.

فَإِذا السَحابُ أَخو غُرابِ فِراقِهِم

جَعَلَ الصِياحَ بَبينِهِم أَن يُمطِرا

But when the clouds—kin to the crows of their leaving—

I forged a bracelet of gold for the hand that brings news of Ibn al-Amid, giving joy wings.

Make the skies between them pour down rain

If his horses and his weapons do not aid me, when shall I lead a host against the foes arrayed?

وَإِذا الحَمائِلُ ما يَخِدنَ بِنَفنَفٍ

إِلّا شَقَقنَ عَلَيهِ ثَوباً أَخضَرا

And when the pregnant camel-litters pass, swaying gently,

My parents be his ransom! A speaker whose word is coin by which hearts are bought and stirred.

Their beasts tear open for them green young sprouts, they browse

War shows him no foe advancing in the fight, nor does any eye behold him in flight.

يَحمِلنَ مِثلَ الرَوضِ إِلّا أَنَّها

أَسبى مَهاةً لِلقُلوبِ وَجُؤذُرا

Bearing camomile—save that these camel-litters

He softens the stallions of war, dyeing their mail red as safflower with the blood that creates the tale.

Have led away a proud-necked tribe, rough-haired

The frail reed-pen in his hand earns a fame that rises above the solid spear’s acclaim.

فَبِلَحظِها نَكِرَت قَناتي راحَتي

ضَعفاً وَأَنكَرَ خاتِمايَ الخِنصِرا

At their glance, my wrist and my crown rejected

Whatever his fingers touch swells with pride; were it to walk, it would strut with a grand stride.

All basil plants, and my ring burst from my finger raggedly

O you whose letter, reaching lands before the sword, turns back armies, bewildered and ignored.

أَعطى الزَمانُ فَما قَبِلتُ عَطائَهُ

وَأَرادَ لي فَأَرَدتُ أَن أَتَخَيَّرا

Time has proffered its gifts, but I have not accepted them;

You are unique in every path you choose to ride; who dares sit pillion when a lion is your guide?

It intended for me, but I wanted to pick and choose

Men pluck speech while it is green and new, but you harvest words when the blossoms break through.

أَرَجانَ أَيَّتُها الجِيادُ فَإِنَّهُ

عَزمي الَّذي يَذَرُ الوَشيجَ مُكَسَّرا

To ride the two yellow camels, for my intent—

Ears escort your words wherever they may go; their beauty doubles with every echo’s flow.

That leaves the withered growth behind—has turned resolute

And when you are silent, the most eloquent tongue is your pen, preaching from the pulpit of your thumb.

لَو كُنتُ أَفعَلُ ما اِشتَهَيتِ فِعالَهُ

ما شَقَّ كَوكَبُكِ العَجاجَ الأَكدَرا

Were I to commit what my passion craved committing,

Letters whose seals the enemies break, to find spears, and swords, and armor in their wake.

Your bright star would not have cloven the heavy clouds

Your enviers call you Chief, then hold their peace; but your Creator names you Chief of eternal lease.

أُمّي أَبا الفَضلِ المُبِرِّ أَلِيَّتي

لَأُيَمَّمَنَّ أَجَلَّ بَحرٍ جَوهَرا

O mother of excellence, most righteous kinsman, my solace,

Your traits replace his speech within the eye, like script that fills the ear of one standing by.

By you I would dare the crossing of a sea of pearls!

Have you seen such spirit as my camel knows, moving swift legs and hooves hard as blows?

أَفتى بِرُؤيَتِهِ الأَنامُ وَحاشَ لي

مِن أَن أَكونَ مُقَصِّراً أَو مُقصِرا

The people give legal opinions by seeing you—far from me

She left the desert smoke of scrub and briar, seeking a folk who feed ambergris to the fire.

That I should fail, or fall short of what befits your stature!

Her noble knees disdain to touch the ground, unless where musk and fragrance can be found.

صُغتُ السِوارَ لِأَيِّ كَفٍّ بَشَّرَت

بِاِبنِ العَميدِ وَأَيِّ عَبدٍ كَبَّرا

I have donned the bracelet—for what hand has triumphed?

She came to you with bleeding soles, as though her legs were shod in red agate’s glow.

What servant sings your lord commander’s praises?

She raced against Time to reach your grace, finding him distracted, staring into space.

إِن لَم تُغِثني خَيلُهُ وَسِلاحُهُ

فَمَتى أَقودُ إِلى الأَعادي عَسكَرا

If his cavalry and weapons do not deliver me,

Who will tell the Arabs that I, in these latter days, have seen Aristotle and Alexander in my gaze?

Then when can I lead armies against the enemy?

I tired of slaughtering camels for the feast; now I am guest to one who slays gold bags for the least.

بِأَبي وَأُمّي ناطِقٌ في لَفظِهِ

ثَمَنُ تُباعُ بِهِ القُلوبُ وَتُشتَرى

By my life, his words in his pronouncements

I heard Ptolemy teaching from his throne—king, Bedouin, and citizen, all in one.

Are the price that hearts are sold and bought for

I met all virtuous souls of ages past, as if God breathed them back to life at last.

مَن لا تُريهِ الحَربُ خَلقاً مُقبِلاً

فيها وَلا خَلقٌ يَراهُ مُدبِراً

War will show him no weakling in the fray

They were sequenced like figures in a sum, but the total was reached only when you had come.

Nor any back-turner when onslaughts fade

Would that she who wept and broke my heart could see you now, and understand my part.

خَنثى الفُحولَ مِنَ الكُماةِ بِصَبغِهِ

ما يَلبَسونَ مِنَ الحَديدِ مُعَصفَرا

His dye has unmanned the club-bearers’ courage

She would see virtues that no virtue bar: the rising sun and the heavy cloud seen from afar.

Though they wear ocher through rings fixed in their ears

Of all mankind, my dwelling is the best; my mount the gladdest, my trade the most blessed.

يَتَكَسَّبُ القَصَبُ الضَعيفُ بِكَفِّهِ

شَرَفاً عَلى صُمِّ الرِماحِ وَمَفخَرا

The pliant spear takes pride over thick spearhafts

Saturn, though the stars are his kin, would be of nobler stock if he were of your origin.

Scraping them smooth, it walks with a jaunty stride

وَيَبينُ فيما مَسَّ مِنهُ بَنانُهُ

تيهُ المُدِلِّ فَلَو مَشى لَتَبَختَرا

O you whose missives precede the armies, when you arrive,

The squadrons themselves then wheel round in circles, confused

يا مَن إِذا وَرَدَ البِلادَ كِتابُهُ

قَبلَ الجُيوشِ ثَنى الجُيوشَ تَحَيُّرا

None shares your path when you ride your steed

Nor is companied, when you bestride your roan

أَنتَ الوَحيدُ إِذا اِرتَكَبتَ طَريقَةً

وَمَنِ الرَديفُ وَقَد رَكِبتَ غَضَنفَرا

Men culled words before their flowering prime;

But you cull words at the first tint of dawn

قَطَفَ الرِجالُ القَولَ وَقتَ نَباتِهِ

وَقَطَفتَ أَنتَ القَولَ لَمّا نَوَّرا

Rehearsed, such words grow yet more fair, but still

Once spoken, your silent script is most eloquent

فَهُوَ المُشَيَّعُ بِالمَسامِعِ إِن مَضى

وَهُوَ المُضاعَفُ حُسنُهُ إِن كُرِّرا

Your enemies rent letters whose lines would reprove them, and saw

Spearheads, and keen tongues, and Indian steel

وَإِذا سَكَتَّ فَإِنَّ أَبلَغَ خاطِبٍ

قَلَمٌ لَكَ اِتَّخَذَ الأَصابِعَ مِنبَرا

So your enviers called you “minister,” restraining you,

While He who created you called you “the greatest minister”

وَرَسائِلٌ قَطَعَ العُداةُ سِحائَها

فَرَأَوا قَناً وَأَسِنَّةً وَسَنَوَّرا

The attributes seen in you by the onlookers

Trailed after your words, like writing to one who can see

فَدَعاكَ حُسَّدُكَ الرَئيسَ وَأَمسَكوا

وَدَعاكَ خالِقُكَ الرَئيسَ الأَكبَرا

Consider how my she-camel vies with those

That carried saddle-bags and red bridle-leathers

خَلَفَت صِفاتُكَ في العُيونِ كَلامَهُ

كَالخَطِّ يَملَءُ مِسمَعَي مَن أَبصَرا

She left the Thamud’s homeland and its rocky terrain

Seeking a tribe who kindle ambergris and musk

أَرَأَيتَ هِمَّةَ ناقَتي في ناقَةٍ

نَقَلَت يَداً سُرُحاً وَخُفّاً مُجمَرا

Her litters disdained resting places

Where they might stumble—and they strew no coarse perfumes!

تَرَكَت دُخانَ الرَمثِ في أَوطانِها

طَلَباً لِقَومٍ يوقِدونَ العَنبَرا

She brought you her smooth paces, as if her feet

Were dyed red in saffron, into deepest night

وَتَكَرَّمَت رُكَباتُها عَن مَبرَكٍ

تَقَعانِ فيهِ وَلَيسَ مِسكاً أَذفَرا

She sped to you as if Time itself had found you

Perplexed in thought, rubbing hand with hand

فَأَتَتكَ دامِيَةَ الأَظَلِّ كَأَنَّما

حُذِيَت قَوائِمُها العَقيقَ الأَحمَرا

Who can inform the nomads that, since losing her,

I have seen Rhodes, and Alexander’s walls?

بَدَرَت إِلَيكَ يَدَ الزَمانِ كَأَنَّها

وَجَدَتهُ مَشغولَ اليَدَينِ مُفَكِّرا

That I have grown weary of the Notch constellation’s setting?

Who slaughters the shining full moons for a viewer?

مَن مُبلِغُ الأَعرابِ أَنّي بَعدَها

شاهَدتُ رَسطاليسَ وَالإِسكَندَرا

I have seen Ptolemy, studying his books,

Raised up above, while stars careered below

وَمَلِلتُ نَحرَ عِشارِها فَأَضافَني

مَن يَنحَرُ البِدَرَ النُضارَ لِمَن قَرى

And I have met all those called virtuous men, as though

God restored for them their bygone days once more

وَسَمِعتُ بَطليموسَ دارِسَ كُتبِهِ

مُتَمَلِّكاً مُتَبَدِّياً مُتَحَضِّراً

They set for us the measures of the calculus, set ahead,

And that happened when you came late, behind

وَلَقيتُ كُلَّ الفاضِلينَ كَأَنَّما

رَدَّ الإِلَهُ نُفوسَهُم وَالأَعصُرا

Ah, would that a weeping rail-bird—her tears

Flowing—might look at you, as I did as I sped away!

نُسِقوا لَنا نَسَقَ الحِسابِ مُقَدَّماً

وَأَتى فَذَلِكَ إِذ أَتيتَ مُؤَخَّرا

And might see virtue itself no virtue can surpass—

The sun’s rising, and the clouds like pelican fledglings

يا لَيتَ باكِيَةً شَجاني دَمعُها

نَظَرَت إِلَيكَ كَما نَظَرتُ فَتَعذِرا

Of all people, I stay best when I stay, travel swiftest when I go

Trade most profitably when I trade from town to town

وَتَرى الفَضيلَةَ لا تَرُدُّ فَضيلَةً

الشَمسَ تُشرِقُ وَالسَحابَ كَنَهوَرا

Saturn, who deems the stars his tribesmen—

Had he hailed from you, his clan would be most noble!

أَنا مِن جَميعِ الناسِ أَطيَبُ مَنزِلاً

وَأَسَرُّ راحِلَةً وَأَربَحُ مَتجَرا

زُحَلٌ عَلى أَنَّ الكَواكِبَ قَومُهُ

لَو كانَ مِنكَ لَكانَ أَكرَمَ مَعشَرا