أبا حسن طال المِطال ولم يكن

غريمك ممطولاً وإني لَصابرُ

O Abu Hasan, the postponement has dragged on, though

your creditor was not one to be put off—and still I am patient.

وقفت عليك النفس لا أنا واردٌ

على طول أيامي ولا أنا صادر

My soul has come to a standstill before you: I neither arrive

through all my lengthening days, nor do I depart.

إذا كنتَ تنسى والمذكِّر غائب

وتدفع أمري والمذكِّر حاضر

If you forget when no reminder is present,

and put off my business when the reminder stands before you—

فيا ليت شعري والحوادث جمة

متى تُنجز الوعد الذي أنا ناظر

would that I knew, while vicissitudes crowd upon us,

when you will fulfill the promise for which I wait.

عذرتك لو كان المطال وقد سقَى

جنابي ربيع من سمائك باكر

I could excuse you, had this long delay already watered

my precinct with an early spring rain from your sky.

فأمَّا ولم يُبللْ جنابي بقطرةٍ

فما لك مني في مطالك عاذر

But since it has not wet my grounds with a single drop,

you have no excuse from me for your delay.

وإن كنتُ لا ألحاك إلا بهاجسٍ

تَناجَى به تحت الصدور الضمائر

Though I rebuke you only through a passing thought,

a secret whispered by consciences beneath the breast:

متى استبطأ العافون رِفدك أم متى

تقاضاك أثمانَ المحامد شاعر

When have those seeking favor ever found your bounty slow? When

has a poet demanded of you the price of praises?

لِيهنئ رجالاً لا تزال تجودهم

سحائبُ من كلتا يديك مواطر

Joy to men whom you never cease enriching,

with clouds raining from both your hands.

تظل تُجافي المنَّ عنهم تَحفِّياً

وقد غتَّهم معروفُك المتواتر

You keep even the reproach of favor far from them,

though your successive kindnesses engulf them.

منحتهُمُ مالاً وجاهاً كلاهما

لهم منه حظ يملأ الكف وافر

You have granted them wealth and standing, both together;

of each they hold a full and ample share.

وعطَّلْتَني عما غَمرتهُمُ به

ورَيْعيَ أزكى ريعِ ما أنت عامر

Yet you have left me bereft of what overwhelmed them—

though my yield is the richest yield so long as you prosper.

عُنِيتَ بهم حتى كأنك والدٌ

لهم وهمُ دوني بنوك الأصاغر

You tended them as though you were their father,

as though they—not I—were your younger sons.

وغادرتني خلف العناية ضائعاً

وللَهِ ماذا يا ابن يحيى تُغادِر

And you left me beyond the reach of care, abandoned—

by God, son of Yahya, what a thing you leave abandoned!

أراني دها شِعري لديك اقتصارُهُ

عليك وإن لم تبتذله المَعاشر

I see that what has undone my poetry in your eyes is its confinement

to me—even though society has never made it commonplace.

وإن لم يُنَوِّه ربه باسم نفسه

فأنت له من أجل ذلك حاقر

Though its master has not trumpeted it in his own name,

you therefore treat it with contempt.

ولم أر شيئاً أخلقتْه صيانة

سِوايَ وشعرِي مُذْ بدَتْ لي المَناظر

I have seen nothing that my careful guarding has worn threadbare

except my poetry, since the world’s prospects opened before me.

ولو شئتُ لم تَذهب على حُوَّليَّتي

هَناتٌ لأسماء الرجال شواهر

Had I wished, no little stratagem would have escaped me—

those petty arts that make men’s names renowned:

وقُوفٌ على بابِ وتشييعُ موكب

وإنشاد جُمَّاع وتلك مَقادر

standing at a doorway, escorting a procession,

reciting before an assembly—such are the usual means.

ولو أنني أرضىَ بهن خلائقاً

لأضحى لي اسمٌ يطرِفُ الشمسَ باهر

Had I accepted such habits as my way to win your favor,

my name would now shine forth, dazzling even the sun.

ولكنني أعطي الصيانة حقّها

فهل ذاك للأحرار عندك ضائر

But I give self-respect its full due;

does that, in your eyes, injure free and noble men?

يخوفني من ذاك أنك إنما

تُخَصُّ بجَدْواك القوافي الحواسر

What frightens me is that perhaps you grant your bounty

only to verses that go barefaced and unveiled.

ويؤْمنني من ذاك أن لستَ جاهلاً

فتستر بالأسماء ما أنت ساتر

What reassures me is that I know you are not ignorant:

you veil beneath names whatever you truly conceal.

على أنني قد جاش صدري جيْشة

فقلت وقد تعصي الحليمَ الهواجر

Yet my breast has at last heaved with a single surge,

and I have spoken—for scorching heat can make even the forbearing rebel:

أرى الدهر في نصر الأباطيل مُجلباً

وفي الله يوماً للحقائق ناصر

I see Time mustered in support of falsehood,

yet in God, one day, truths shall have a champion.

ألم تحزنِ الآداب حزناً يَشفُّها

وتجري له منها الدموع البوادر

Have not letters grieved with a grief that wastes them,

their first tears streaming freely down?

قواف مصوناتٌ تُقَرَّب دونها

قوافٍ بأبواب الرجال سوافر

Guarded poems—while ahead of them are ushered

poems unveiled at the doors of men.

أما وأبي أبكارِ شعرٍ عقائلٍ

نُكِحن بلا مهر وهن مهائر

My father be their ransom! Virgin poems are freeborn ladies,

married without dowries though they command rich bridal gifts.

لئن أحظِيَتْ يوماً عليهن ضَرَّةٌ

لمَا هُنَّ من تُحظَى عليه الضرائر

If one day you favor a co-wife over them,

they are not women over whom rival wives may justly be preferred.

وإنك لَلْمرءُ الجليُّ بصيرة

ولكن مع الأهواء تَعشَى البصائر

Though your lucid understanding possesses insight,

passion can nonetheless blind discerning eyes.

وقد قيل كم من رِشدة في كريهةٍ

ومن غَيّةٍ تُلقَى عليها الشراشر

How often sound guidance lies within a hated thing,

and error is encountered beneath splendid curtains.

وكم أمةٍ ورهاءَ قد فاز قِدحها

بما حُرِمتْه السيدات الحرائر

How often has the lot of a foolish slave girl prevailed

in what was denied to noble, freeborn ladies.

ومن دونِ ما قد سُمْتني في كرائمي

يقول امرُؤٌ نعم البُعولُ المقابر

Short of all that you have assigned me among the noble,

a man might say, “Yes—what excellent husbands the graves are!”

وما كنَّ في بعلٍ بِجِدِّ رواغب

ولو كان كُفء الشمس لولا المفاقر

They never desired a dull and witless husband,

though he rivaled the sun itself—if only poverty were absent.

سيسألني الأقوام عما أثبْتني

به فبماذا أنت إياي آمر

People will ask me what has kept me waiting;

what answer, then, do you command me to give?

أأخبرهم بالحق وهْي شَكِيَّة

أم الإفكِ فالإسلام عن ذاك زاجر

Shall I tell the truth—a grievance plain to see?

Or utter falsehood, when Islam forbids me that?

وإن امرأً باع الثناء من امرئٍ

فباء بحرمان وإثمٍ لخَاسر

A man who sells one man another man’s praise,

then comes away deprived and sinful, is surely a loser.

أتحرمني الجدوى وأطريك كاذباً

فتحظَى وأشقَى بالذي أنا وازر

Will you deny me bounty while I praise you falsely,

so that you prosper while I groan beneath the burden of my sin?

شهدت إذاً أني لنفسيَ ظالم

وأنك إن كلفتَني ذاك جائر

Then I would testify that I had wronged myself,

and that you, if you imposed this on me, were unjust.

وهبني كتمتُ الحق أو قلتُ غيرهُ

أتخفَى على أهل العقول السرائر

Suppose I concealed the truth or spoke its opposite—

can inward secrets be hidden from people of understanding?

أبى ذاك أن السر في الوجه ناطق

وأن ضمير القلب في العين ظاهر

My face refuses: the secret speaks upon it,

and the heart’s concealed intent shows plainly in the eye.

وحسبك من شكواي في كل مجلسٍ

نَئيمي وأنفاسي عليك الزوافر

Enough to tell my complaint, in every gathering, are

my breath and the deep sighs I heave because of you;

وصمتي ومطِّي حاجبي وإشاحتي

بوجهي إذا سمَّى ليَ اسمَك ذاكر

my silence, my lowered brows, and every gesture

of my face whenever someone mentions your name.

سئِلتَ فلم تحرم سواي وإنه

لوترٌ وإني لو أشاء لثائر

I asked, and still you have not granted what I asked, although

it is an unsettled debt—and I, if I choose, can rise to settle it.

ولكنْي عفوي عفوُ حرٍّ ولم يكن

ليسبقَني لولاه بالوتر واتر

Yet my forgiveness is the forgiveness of a freeborn man;

no base avenger shall outstrip me in exacting requital.

ولو ثوِّبتْ تلك المدائحُ ألحِقتْ

بها أخريات للثواب شواكر

Had those praises been rewarded, I would have joined

new poems to them, grateful for the recompense.

إذا أُنشِدَتْ قال الألى يسمعونها

ألا ليتنا للمُنْشديها منابر

Whenever they were recited, those who heard would say:

“Ah, would that we had pulpits for such reciters!”