صنعةَ الشِّعرِ لقد عا

فَتكِ نَفسي فاترُكيني

The art of poetry, leave me be

For you have wearied my soul, so depart from me

أَدبِري عنِّي بِوَجهٍ

والقَفَا منك أريني

Turn your face away

And show me your back

إستريحي وأريحي

منكِ ذا الحظ الغبينِ

Find comfort and give me comfort

From your miserable fate

سئمت رؤيةُ عيني

من مُحياكِ اللَّعينِ

My eyes are tired of seeing

Your wretched face

صنعةَ الشعر انظُري غي

ري فإنِّي قد عَرَفتُك

The art of poetry, look elsewhere

For I have come to know you

وعصيرَ الصَّابِ صِرفاً

ذُقته منكِ فَعِفتُك

And tasted the juice of the vines

I have had my fill of you

ولوَ انِّي رُمتُ وَصفاً

لِشَقاءٍ لوَصَفتُك

Had I wished to describe misery

I would have described you

أصرِفُ الأكدارَ والأح

زانَ عنِّي إن صَرَفتُك

Take away my sorrows and griefs

If you leave me

عنكِ قَلبي قَد تَخَلَّى

خَلِّني باللهَّ عَنكِ

My heart has abandoned you

Leave me be, for God's sake

أترُكِي مَن كانَ يَنوي

أنه لن يَترُكَنكِ

Leave the one who intended

To never leave you

اُنظري غيري فَغيري

راغِبٌ في الوصلِ مِنكِ

Look to another, for another

Seeks to be joined with you

أُجلبي النحسَ إليه

وأَرِيه عيشَ ضَنكِ

Bring misfortune to him

And show him a life of misery

إجعليهِ إن تَبَدَّى

لِذَوي الإثراءِ قالوا

If he aspires to the wealthy

They will say "A wretched poet

شاعرٌ بائسُ حَظٍّ

شُغلُه قِيلٌ وقالُ

Whose concern is gossip and rumors

Dreary in appearance, gloomy

باهتُ المَرأى كَئيبٌ

ساءَ مِن مَرآهُ فالُ

His vision has brought him misery"

Then they turn away from him

ثم غَضُّوا عنه طَرفاً

وبوَجهٍ عنهُ مالوا

And avert their faces from him

And if he comes to them

وتراهُم إن أتَاهَم

منهمُ ضاقت صُدورُ

Their chests tighten

And they meet him with hearts

ولَقَوهُ بِقُلوبٍ

يَلتظى فيها السَّعيرُ

That harbor raging fires

But when he turns away from them

فإذا أعرَضَ عَنهُم

دَبَّ في القومِ السُّرورُ

Joy creeps into the group

And smiles break out on their faces

وانجَلت منهم ثَنايا

بَسَمَت عنها الثُّغورُ

Their mouths grin

And if he lingers after turning away

والزَميه إِن تَوَلَّى

مُفعَمَ القلب كآبه

With a heart full of gloom

Deceive him with your company

واخدَعيهِ بِوصالٍ

منكِ يُنسيهِ اكتآبَه

To make him forget his sorrow

And after rejection make him think

واهماً من بَعدِ هَجوٍ

أَنه صَفَّى حِسَابَه

He has settled his account

Without you he would be downcast

وهوَ لولاكِ خَديناً

لَم يُصِبهُ ما أصَابَه

And not afflicted as he is

Make him an intimate companion

إجعلي منه حليفاً

لسُهادٍ في اللَّيالي

Of wakefulness in the nights

That wrings out his thoughts

عاصراً فكرَهُ عَصراً

في يَتيماتِ اللالي

In the darkness of the nights

Exhausting himself until

مُجهِداً نَفسه حَتَّى

يَجتَليها ذَاتَ بالِ

His inner thoughts are stripped bare

Then he presents them to one

ثُم يُهديها إلى مَن

بِقَريضٍ لا يُبالي

Who cares not for subtle phrases

So if it is a confidant

فهى إن كانت نَسيباً

صاغَها الصَّبُّ المُوَلَّهُ

Molded by passionate youth

He pours into it his complaints

لِحبيبِ القلبِ فيها

بثَّ شكواهُ لَعَلَّه

Hoping it will

Console him, but instead

سامَهُ هوناً وعنه

أعرَض الإِعراضَ كُلَّه

He turns away completely

And recoils from him, disgusted and fed up

وكَوَى منه فُؤاداً

وانثَنى عنه ومَلَّه

But if it is a panegyric

Lavishing a minister

وإذا كانت مديحاً

مُطرياً فيه وزيراً

With priceless pearls making him

Appear proud

بنَفيسِ الدُّرِّ تُزري

وبِها جاءَ فَخورا

Then let him return crestfallen

With a grieving heart

فَليَعُد مَغتَمَّ نَفسٍ

َدامِىَ القلبِ كَسيرَا

Disappointed, receiving

No reward or gratitude

خَيبةَ الآمالِ يَلقَى

لا جزاءً لا شُكورَا

Rather the minister deserves praise

If he lends an ear

بل لَه الفَضلُ عَلَيهِ

إن له بالسَّمعِ أَلقَى

Cursed by God is a time

When the free live in chains

قَبَّحَ اللهُ زماناً

عاشَ فيه الحُرُّ رِقَّا

And the lord of rhymes makes others happy

While he remains miserable

وتَرى رَبَّ القَوافي

يُسعِدُ الغَيرَ ويَشقَى

So let us enjoy silence

For it is best and most enduring

فَلنَلُذ بالصَّمتِ فيه

إِنَّهُ خَيرٌ واَبقى

Unless I wish to describe

A great man of great deeds

ما عَدا إن رُمتُ وَصفاً

لِعَظيمِ العُظَماءِ

Then come to me

And make him equal in generosity

أَقبِلي إذ ذَاكَ عَنِّي

واشبِهيه في السَّخاءِ

Grant me pearls of speech

And shower me with gifts

دُررَ القولِ امنَحيني

واغمُريني بِالعطَاءِ

Then inspire me with what you have not

Inspired in anyone else

ثم أَوحِي لِي بمَا لم

به توحِي لِسِوائي

If through it I compose a panegyric

My praise attains all praise

فيه إن قلتُ مديحاً

نال مدحي كُلَّ مَدحِ

And it is enough that through it

I am a bird singing his praises

وكفاني أننَّي في

روضِه طائرُ صَدحِ

Warbling my praises to him

Through my life and mornings

أتَغنى بِمديحي

له مُمساىَ وصُبحي

While a bulbul is prideful

Of singing from atop a palace

ولقد يزهو صَدوحٌ

بغِناء فوقَ صَرحِ

Rather I, if I recite poetry

Come to him seeking lessons

بل أنا إِن قلتُ شِعراً

جِئتهُ طالبَ دَرسِ

And he meets me with ideas

Radiant like the sun

وتَلقَّاني بأفكا

رِ لها إشعاعُ شَمسِ

He is the polish of my thoughts

And the basil of my soul

فهو لي صيقلُ فِكرٍ

وهو ريحانةُ نَفسي

A light shines on him

If that light is my sanctity

يَتجلَّى له نورٌ

إن ذاك النورَ قُدسي

Lord of piety, lord of intimacy

Lord of knowledge, lord of forbearance

رُبَّ تقوى رُبَّ نجوى

رُبَّ عِلمٍ رُبَّ حِلمِ

Lord of purity, lord of pardon

Lord of resolve, lord of determination

رُب صَفوٍ رُبَّ عفوٍ

رُبَّ حَزمٍ رُبَّ عَزمِ

Lord of generosity, lord of glory

Lord of decisiveness, lord of mercy

رُبَّ جودٍ رُبَّ مَجدٍ

رُبَّ حَسمٍ رُبَّ رَحمِ

Lord of the sword, lord of hospitality

Lord of silencing opponents

رُبَّ سَيفٍ رُبَّ ضَيفٍ

رُبَّ إفحامٍ لِخَصمِ

I nearly forgot his

Genius in the field of subtlety

كِدتُ أنسى منهُ إبدا

عَهُ فِي ميدانِ نُكتَه

And the ingenious subtlety

That captivates minds unexpectedly

وبديعُ النُّكتِ الطا

رِقُ للأَذهانِ بَغتَه

At times hinting

At the subtle point in his silence

جهرةً طوراً وطَوراً

يودِعُ النكتةَ صَمتَه

None but the pure of mind

Can perceive his genius

ليسَ يَدريها سِوى مَن

كانَ صَفو الذِّهن نَعتَه

Ask history about his suppression

Of the two strifes

إسألِ التاريخَ عن إق

ماعِهِ لِلفتنَتَينِ

When he secured victory and defeat

For the two kingdoms

إذ يدَى نَصرٍ وكَسرٍ

مَدَّ لِلمَملَكَتَينِ

Called Abu Muslim

In the tongues of both peoples

بِأَبي مُسلِم يُدعى

في لسانِ الأُمَّتَينِ

And the Western tongue cried out

Submitting to him twice

ولسانُ الغَربِ نَادا

هُ خُضوعاً مَرَّتَينِ

O art of poetry, grant me

Gems of prosody

صنعةَ الشِّعرِ امنَحيني

من يَواقِيت النِّظامِ

With elegant phrases, be generous

For he is the pride of mankind

بِرَصينِ القَولِ جُودي

إنه فخرُ الأنامِ

And a zealous one of the zealous

Of the zealous, of the zealous

وهمامٌ مِن هُمامِ

مِن همامٍ من هُمامِ

Pearls of poetry, bestow upon me

He is the magnificent Ottoman

غُرَرَ الشِّعرِ هَبيني

إنَّه الباشا التُّهامي