آخِرُ ما المَلكُ مُعَزّى بِهِ

هَذا الَّذي أَثَّرَ في قَلبِهِ

Let this be the final sorrow the King must bear,

This grief which has carved its mark upon his heart;

لا جَزَعاً بَل أَنَفاً شابَهُ

أَن يَقدِرَ الدَهرُ عَلى غَصبِهِ

Not borne of weakness, but of a proud disdain

That Fate presumed the power to usurp his own.

لَو دَرَتِ الدُنيا بِما عِندَهُ

لَاِستَحيَتِ الأَيّامُ مِن عَتبِهِ

If the world but knew the resolve he holds inside,

The very days would shrink in shame from his rebuke.

لَعَلَّها تَحسَبُ أَنَّ الَّذي

لَيسَ لَدَيهِ لَيسَ مِن حِزبِهِ

Perhaps the world supposes that the one who lies

Beyond his presence is no longer of his fold;

وَأَنَّ مَن بَغدادُ دارٌ لَهُ

لَيسَ مُقيماً في ذَرى عَضبِهِ

And that he who claims Baghdad as his home

Dwells not within the shelter of his striking blade;

وَأَنَّ جَدَّ المَرءِ أَوطانُهُ

مَن لَيسَ مِنها لَيسَ مِن صُلبِهِ

And that a man’s fortune defines his native lands,

And he who is not of them is not of his kin.

أَخافُ أَن تَفطُنَ أَعداؤُهُ

فَيُجفِلوا خَوفاً إِلى قُربِهِ

I fear lest his enemies might come to realize,

And flee in terror to seek refuge at his side.

لا بُدَّ لِلإِنسانِ مِن ضَجعَةٍ

لا تَقلِبُ المُضجَعَ عَن جَنبِهِ

Mankind must surely face that final lying down,

A slumber where the sleeper turns not from his side,

يَنسى بِها ما كانَ مِن عُجبِهِ

وَما أَذاقَ المَوتُ مِن كَربِهِ

Wherein he forgets all that was once his vanity,

And all the anguish that death forced him to taste.

نَحنُ بَنو المَوتى فَما بالُنا

نَعافُ مالا بُدَّ مِن شُربِهِ

We are the children of the dead; why then do we

Loathe the bitter cup that we must surely drink?

تَبخَلُ أَيدينا بِأَرواحِنا

عَلى زَمانٍ هِيَ مِن كَسبِهِ

Our hands cling miserly to our fleeting souls,

Guarding against Time that which is Time’s own gain.

فَهَذِهِ الأَرواحُ مِن جَوِّهِ

وَهَذِهِ الأَجسامُ مِن تُربِهِ

For these very souls are drawn from its vast air,

And these our bodies fashioned from its dusty soil.

لَو فَكَّرَ العاشِقُ في مُنتَهى

حُسنِ الَّذي يَسبيهِ لَم يَسبِهِ

If the lover reflected on the ultimate end

Of the beauty that enslaves him, he would not be enslaved.

لَم يُرَ قَرنُ الشَمسِ في شَرقِهِ

فَشَكَّتِ الأَنفُسُ في غَربِهِ

The sun’s bright horn is never seen rising in the east,

Without the soul suspecting its eventual set.

يَموتُ راعي الضَأنِ في جَهلِهِ

مَوتَةَ جالينوسَ في طِبِّهِ

The shepherd of the sheep dies amidst his ignorance,

Just as Galen dies amidst his medical art.

وَرُبَّما زادَ عَلى عُمرِهِ

وَزادَ في الأَمنِ عَلى سِربِهِ

And perchance the shepherd outlives the sage in years,

And surpasses him in the safety of his flock.

وَغايَةُ المُفرِطِ في سِلمِهِ

كَغايَةِ المُفرِطِ في حَربِهِ

The fate of one who strives too hard for peace

Is as the fate of him who strives too hard in war.

فَلا قَضى حاجَتَهُ طالِبٌ

فُؤادُهُ يَخفِقُ مِن رُعبِهِ

No seeker attains the object of his desire

While his heart is trembling with the pulse of fear.

أَستَغفِرُ اللَهَ لِشَخصٍ مَضى

كانَ نَداهُ مُنتَهى ذَنبِهِ

I ask God’s pardon for a soul that has passed on,

Whose only sin lay in the excess of bounty;

وَكانَ مَن عَدَّدَ إِحسانَهُ

كَأَنَّهُ أَفرَطَ في سَبِّهِ

And whoever recounts the virtues of that soul

Seems almost to insult by the faintness of praise.

يُريدُ مِن حُبِّ العُلى عَيشَهُ

وَلا يُريدُ العَيشَ مِن حُبِّهِ

Through love of glory, that soul desired life,

Yet desired not life for the mere sake of living.

يَحسَبُهُ دافِنُهُ وَحدَهُ

وَمَجدُهُ في القَبرِ مِن صَحبِهِ

The one who buries imagines the body lies alone,

Yet Glory is its companion within the grave.

وَيُظهَرُ التَذكيرُ في ذِكرِهِ

وَيُستَرُ التَأنيثُ في حُجبِهِ

The masculine form is used to honor her name,

While the feminine is veiled within her shroud.

أُختُ أَبي خَيرٍ أَميرٍ دَعا

فَقالَ جَيشٌ لِلقَنا لَبِّهِ

Sister of the father of the finest Prince who called,

And an army answered the spears, saying: 'We obey.'

يا عَضُدَ الدَولَةِ مَن رُكنُها

أَبوهُ وَالقَلبُ أَبو لُبِّهِ

O Adud al-Dawla, pillar of the State’s domain,

Whose father is its foundation, as the heart to the core;

وَمَن بَنوهُ زَينُ آبائِهِ

كَأَنَّها النورُ عَلى قُضبِهِ

And whose sons are the adornment of their sires,

Shining like light upon the tempered blades.

فَخراً لِدَهرٍ أَنتَ مِن أَهلِهِ

وَمُنجِبٍ أَصبَحتَ مِن عَقبِهِ

Glory be to the Age that counts you among its own,

And to the ancestor whose lineage bore your name.

إِنَّ الأَسى القِرنُ فَلا تُحيِهِ

وَسَيفُكَ الصَبرُ فَلا تُنبِهِ

Sorrow is a peerless foe; do not give it life,

And patience is your sword; do not let it dull.

ما كانَ عِندي أَنَّ بَدرَ الدُجى

يوحِشُهُ المَفقودُ مِن شُهبِهِ

I never thought the full moon of the dark night

Could be dismayed by the loss of a single star.

حاشاكَ أَن تَضعُفَ عَن حَملِ ما

تَحَمَّلَ السائِرُ في كُتبِهِ

Far be it from you to weaken under a burden

That the traveler Destiny carries in his scrolls.

وَقَد حَمَلتَ الثِقلَ مِن قَبلِهِ

فَأَغنَتِ الشِدَّةُ عَن سَحبِهِ

For you have borne great weights before this grief,

And your strength sufficed to lift what could not be dragged.

يَدخُلُ صَبرُ المَرءِ في مَدحِهِ

وَيَدخُلُ الإِشفاقُ في ثَلبِهِ

A man’s patience is reckoned part of his praise,

While pity invites a blemish on his name.

مِثلُكَ يَثني الحُزنَ عَن صَوبِهِ

وَيَستَرِدُّ الدَمعَ عَن غَربِهِ

One such as you diverts sorrow from its course,

And commands the tear back from its flowing path,

إيما لِإِبقاءٍ عَلى فَضلِهِ

إيما لِتَسليمٍ إِلى رَبِّهِ

Either to preserve the virtue of his rank,

Or in submission to the will of his Lord.

وَلَم أَقُل مِثلُكَ أَعني بِهِ

سِواكَ يا فَرداً بِلا مُشبِهِ

And when I said 'one such as you,' I meant

None but you, O unique one without peer.