يَا لذَّةَ الحُلمِ في إِغفاءَةِ الوَسَنِ
تَحكِي جُفونَ بَناتِ الرُّومِ في وَهَن
O the bliss of dreaming in the slumber of youth
Telling of the eyelids of Roman girls in languor
قد بتُّ أقطعُ ليلَ السُّهدِ في فِكَرٍ
تَترَى علَىَّ بِلاَ هَمٍّ ولا شَجَنِ
I've spent the night sleepless in thought
You appear to me without worry or agony
مَدَدتُ مِن شُفرِ أَجفَانِي حَبَائٍِلَها
أصطَادُ طيفَ الكرَى حتَّى تَصَيَّدَنِي
I've cast from my long eyelashes snares for her
I hunt the phantom of the beloved until she ensnares me
رَأيتُنِي فِي مَكَانٍ لَستُ أجهَلُهُ
لو كنتُ أعرِفُهُ قَبلاً ولم أَكُنِ
I saw myself in a place I do not recognize
If only I had known it before and were not there
فِي مَحفَلٍ بِوُجوهِ الحُسنِ مُزدَهِرٌ
أَشهى وَأبهى مِنَ الحَلواءِ في الصُّحُنِ
In a gathering with beautiful faces blooming
More lustful and brilliant than dates in a platter
تَنَاشَدُوا مِن بَدِيعِ الشِّعرِ عَالِيَهُ
كَما تَسَاجَعُ أطيارٌ عَلَى غُصُنِ
They recited the finest, loftiest poetry
As birds chatter on a branch
وَقد تَصَدَّرَ هُم شَيخٌ إزَاءَ فَتًى
قَد ظَلَّ منهُ بطَرفِ اللَّحظِ يَرمُقُنِي
And there presided an old man across from a youth
Who kept glancing at me from the corner of his eye
رَأَيتُ رَابعَ عَقدِ العُمرِ وَدَّعَهُ
ولم يَزَل يافعاً فِي وَجهِهِ الحَسِن
I saw the prime of his life bid farewell
Yet his beautiful face remained ever youthful
يُجِيلُ مَجدَ لِحاظٍ سِحرُ ناظِرِها
يَبدو كَآثارِ نَعمَاءٍ عَلى دِمَنِ
His brilliant gaze reveals a magic charm
Gleaming like the traces of bliss on a structure
وقد تَزَمَّلَ في كوخِ النَّسَائِج مِن
ثَوبِ حَرِيرٍ إِلى صُوفٍ إِلى قُطُنِ
And he was clad in the hut of weavers
In silk, wool and cotton fabrics
فبانَ مِن بَينهمِ والطَّرفُ يَجمَعُهم
في نَظرةٍ وبهِ لَمَّا يُمَرِّيني
He appeared among them, their eyes on him
In a gaze that made me swoon
كَدَوحةٍ بينَ أفوافِ الزُّهُورِ لها
منَ البَها ما لها فِي عَينِ مُفتَتَنِ
Like a flower among bouquets of blooms
More splendid than all to the beholder
كَأنَّهُ شَيخُ بَدوٍ حَلَّ في مُدُنٍ
وأنتَ تعرفُ شيخَ البَدوِ في المُدُنِ
As if he were a Bedouin elder in cities
And you know the Bedouin elder in cities
لَبيتُ داعي الفُضولِ في التَّساؤُلِ إذ
إنَ الفُضُولَ مع السُّؤالِ في رَسَنِ
I was tempted to inquire, for curiosity
Together with asking leads one astray
فسِرتُ نحو فتًى مِن غيرِ مَعرفَةٍ
وقُلتُ مَن ذا فقال النَّاصِري اليَمنِي
So I approached a youth unknown to me
And said “Who is he?” He said “al-Nasiri, the Yemenite”
أَهلاً بمُتعَةِ رُوحي قُلتُ مُبتَهِجاً
وقُمتُ عانَقتُهُ شَوقاً وعَانَقَني
“Greetings my soul’s delight,” I said joyfully
And I embraced him longingly and he embraced me
أَهلاً بخَيرِ أديبٍ سَيِّدٍ سَنَدٍ
مُستَظرَفٍ كَيِّس سَمحٍ نَهٍ ذَهِنٍ
“Greetings the best refined sir, pillar and friend
Witty, wise, forgiving, calm, sharp of mind”
مَاذا دعَاكَ إلى نُكرانِ مَعرِفَتي
وأنتَ أنتَ صَديقُ السِّرِّ والعَلَنِ
“Why did you deny knowing me
When you're the friend of my secret and public affairs?”
فقَال إن كَان حَالي مَا اكتفيتُ بهَا
فانظُر فإنَّكَ ذُو عَينٍ وذُو أُذُنِ
He said “If my state is one you're content with
Then look, for you have eyes and ears”
لَقد دَعَونِي لأَمرٍ كنت أحسَبهُ
يَأتي على غَيرِ مَأتَى المَيتِ في الكَفَنِ
“I was summoned for something I thought
Would never befall the dead in their shroud
وما أضَرَّ بِقَلبي غيرُ فُرقَةِ مَن
فِراقُهُ كَفِراقِ الرُّوحِ لِلبَدَنِ
And nothing hurt my heart but parting with one
Whose loss is like the soul leaving the body
خَلَّفتهُ بِرِبَاطِ الفَتحِ مُنتَظِري
يا مَن بِقُربِ رِباطِ الفَتحِ يَطرَحُني
I left him in Ribat al-Fath waiting for me
O you who the proximity of Ribat al-Fath entices me
لَو كنتَ تُبصِرُهُ والعُودُ فِي يَدِهِ
لَبِعتَ دُنياكَ والأُخرى بِلا ثَمَنِ
Had you seen him with the lute in his hand
You'd sell your life and the hereafter for nothing
إذا شَدَا قلتُ شُحرورُ الغُصونِ شَدا
لَو أنَّ شُحرورَ غُصنٍ قُدَّ مِن غُصنِ
When he sang I said the warbling branches sang
If only the warbling of branches came from branches
فَقلتُ هَوِّن فما في الأمرِ مِن حَرَجٍ
عَيشٌ بلا مِحَنٍ شَرٌّ مِنَ المِحَنِ
I said take heart, for there's no shame in this matter
A life without trials is worse than trials
ألمَرءُ فِي حَزَنٍ لا بُدَّ مِن فَرَحٍ
لَهُ وفِي فَرَحٍ لاَ بُدَّ من حَزَنِ
A man in sorrow must have some joy
And in joy he must have some sorrow
يَروعُ مَخبَرُهُ مِن قبلِ مَنظَرِهِ
كَأَنهُ قِصَّةٌ فِي سَالِفِ الزَّمَنِ
His tale horrifies me before its spectacle
As if it were a story from past times
لَبيتُ دَعوَتَهُم وَالشَّوقُ يَجذِبُنِي
وَجِئتُ أقطَعُ أَرضَ السَّهلِ وَالحَزَنِ
I accepted their invitation as yearning pulled me
And I traversed the plain lands and sorrow
لكن بحَقِّكَ مَن هَذا الَّذي بِه صَا
رَ القَلبُ منكَ حَليفَ الشَّجوِ والشَّجنِ
But by your right, who is he that made
The heart detach from you, ally of passion and agony?”
وَراعَنِي مِنهُ دَمعٌ كَادَ يَغسِلُنِي
أَعُوذُ بِاللهِ من آثَامِ ذِي الظُنَنِ
And his tears nearly swept me away
I seek God's refuge from the sins of the suspicious
وكادَ دَمعُهُ يَجري مِن مَحَاجِرِهِ
وَلو جَرى لَجَرى كَالعَارِضِ الهَتِنِ
His tears almost ran from his eyelids
And had they run, they'd run like pouring rain
