دَعَانِي الْقَيْدُ يَا حُرّ
؟!
أَلا يَثْنِيكَ ذَا الْقَهْرُ؟!
The fetter called to me, “O free man,
does this oppression not bend you?!
أَلَمْ تُوهِنْكَ ذِي الأَهْوَا
؟!
لُ لَمْ يُوهِنْكَ ذَا الأَسْرُ؟!
Have these terr—
—ors not weakened you, nor this captivity?!
فَكَمْ سَوْطٍ عَلَى الظَّهْرِ الْـ
!
ـجَرِيحِ كَأَنَّهُ الْجَمْرُ!
How many lashes upon the wounded—
—back, each searing like an ember!
وَكَمْ ضَيَّعْتَ فِي الأَسْرِ السْـ
!
ـسِنِينَ وَهَا هِيَ الْعُمْرُ!
And how many years you squandered in captivity—
—years that now amount to a lifetime!
وَكَمْ يَوْمٍ يَمُرُّ وَقَدْ
!
هَوَى مِنْ هُونِكَ الْقَطْرُ!
How many a sea has swept over you, while
from your stoic calm scarcely a drop has fallen!
وَلَوْ كُنْتَ الدَّمِيعَ لَقَدْ
!
جَرَى مِنْ دَمْعِكَ الْبَحْرُ!
Had you been one to weep, surely
a sea would have flowed from your tears!
وَكَمْ ظَمَأٍ وَجُوعٍ لَوْ
!
لِجُمْلٍ مَا لَهَا صَبْرُ!
And how much thirst and hunger—even
camels could never bear it!
أَيَا قَيْدِي أَنَا الْحُرّ
؟
فَإِنْ أَكُ ذَا فَمَا السِّرُّ؟
O my fetter, I am free;
if I am so, where is the mystery?!
إِذَا لَمْ أَلْقَ أَهْوَالاً
فَمَا عَبْدٌ وَمَا حُرُّ
If I never face terrors,
what then is a slave, and what a free man?
فَيَلْقَى الْحُرُّ مَا يُرْدِي
كَأَنْ مَا ضَرَّهُ ضُرُّ
The free man meets what might destroy him
as though no harm had touched him.
وَعِنْدَ نَجَاتِهِ يَزْهُو
كَمَلْكٍ نَالَهُ النَّصْرُ
And when deliverance comes, he glories
like a king to whom victory has come.
وَإِنْ يَهْلِكْ فَلِلأَحْرَا
رِ رَمْزٌ فِي الدُّجَى بَدْرُ
And if he perishes, for the free—
—he is a sign, a full moon in darkness.
يَمُوتُ النَّاسُ كُلُّهُمُ
وَلا يُمْحَى لَهُ ذِكْرُ
All people die,
but his memory is never erased.
وَفِي الْفِرْدَوْسِ مَثْوَاهُ
نَعِيمٌ مَا لَهُ دَهْرُ
And Paradise is his abode:
bliss beyond the reach of time.
وَذَا دَابِي مَعَ الأَهْوَا
لِ صَبْرٌ بَلْ رِضًا نَذْرُ
Such is my way amid ordeals:
a vow to patience—no, to contentment.
وَذَاكَ الْعَبْدُ لا يَهْوَى الْـ
ـمَعَالِيَ إِذْ بِهَا الْعُسْرُ
That slave does not aspire to the high—
—est heights, for hardship lies in them.
فَمَا مِنْ مَبْدَأٍ إِلاَّ
حَيَاةٌ عَيْشُهَا يُسْرُ
For he has no creed except
a life whose living is ease.
فَقَالَ الْقَيْدُ يَا حُرُّ
صَدَقْتَ وَإِنَّكَ الْبَرُّ
The fetter said, “O free man,
you speak truly; you are goodness itself.
لَقَدْ صَاحَبْتُ أَقْوَامًا
مِنَ الأَحْرَارِ هُمْ كُثْرُ
I have accompanied bands
of free men—many indeed.
فُكُنْتُ الْمُبْكِيَ الْبَاكِي
وَكَانَ لَهُمْ مَعِي أَمْرُ
I became both the cause of tears and the weeper,
and they had a grave affair with me.”
أَلا يَا أَيُّهَا الْقَيْدُ
كَفَى ذَمًّا لَكَ الْقَهْرُ
“Ah, O fetter!
Oppression is blame enough for you.
فَإِنَّكَ لِلطُّغَاةِ يَدٌ
عَلَى أَحْرَارِنَا شَرُّ
You are the tyrants’ hand,
an evil laid upon our free men.
لَقَدْ آلَمْتَ أَقْوَامًا
لأَهْلِ الأَرْضِ هُمْ ذُخْرُ
You have caused pain to men
who are a treasure for all the earth.”
فَنَادَى الْقَيْدُ يَا حُرُّ
أَنَا كَدَوَائِكُمْ مُرُّ
The fetter cried, “O free man,
I am bitter, like your medicine.
كَفَى فَخْرًا بِأَنِّي بِي
يَبِينُ الْغِرُّ وَالْغُرُّ
It is pride enough for me that through me
the callow and the noble are distinguished.
فَمَنْ يَثْبُتْ فَذَا عِنْدِي
رَبِيبٌ لِي بِهِ فَخْرُ
Whoever stands firm is, in my eyes,
my fosterling, in whom I take pride.
وَمَنْ يَهْوِي فَذَا حِمْلٌ
هَوَى فَأَرَاحَ مَنْ بَرُّوا
Whoever falls was but a burden;
falling, he relieves those who remain true.
إِذَا قَهْرًا أَكُونُ فَهَا
أَنَا بِثَبَاتِكُمْ صِفْرُ
If I am a force of compulsion, what am I
before your steadfastness? Nothing.
أَيَا قَيْدِي لِمَ الأَحْرَا
رُ دَوْمًا فِي الْوَرَى نَزْرُ
“O my fetter, why are the free—
—always so few among humankind?”
أَجَابَ الْقَيْدُ يَا حُرُّ
أَلا يَكْفِيكُمُ الدُّرُّ
The fetter answered, “O free man,
are pearls not enough for you?
جِبَالَ مَعَادِنٍ تَابَى
وَتَهْوَى الدُّرَّ لا إِمْرُ
Mountains are mines that tower,
while pearls sink—no marvel.
وَهَاكَ نَصِيحَتِي فَاثْبُتْ
وَلا تَرْكَنْ لَكَ النَّصْرُ
And here is my counsel: stand firm,
and never yield; victory is yours.
وَكُنْ دَوْمًا مَعَ الأَحْرَا
رِ ذَاكَ الْعِزُّ وَالْبِرُّ
Always remain with the free—
—there lie glory and righteousness.
عَسَى يَوْمًا بِأَيْدِيكُمْ
يَزُولُ الظُّلْمُ وَالْكُفْرُ
Perhaps one day, by your hands,
oppression and unbelief will vanish,
وَيَاتِي أُمَّةَ الإِسْلا
مِ مِنْ أَيْدِيكُمُ الْفَجْرُ
and to the nation of Islam—
—from your hands the dawn will come.”
Sol 5.6