أَسَقيطُ الطَلِّ فَوقَ النَرجِسِ
أَم نَسيمُ الرَوضِ تَحتَ الحِندِسِ
Do I pour dew over the narcissus,
Or is it the breeze of the garden beneath the Indian jasmine?
أَم نِظامٌ لِلَآلٍ نَسَقٍ
جامِعٍ كُلَّ خَطيرٍ مُنفِسِ
Or is it a string of pearls, a well-arranged necklace,
That brings together all that is precious and cherished?
أَم قَريضٌ جاءَني عَن مَلِكٍ
مالِكٍ بِالبِرِّ رِقَّ الأَنّفُسِ
Or is it an ode that came to me from a king,
A righteous king with a gentle spirit?
دَلَّهَت فِكرِيَ مِن إِبداعِهِ
حيرَةٌ في مَنطِقٍ لي مُخرِسِ
My thoughts were confused by its creativity,
Perplexed, my eloquence failed me.
بِتُّ مِنهُ بَينَ سَهلٍ مُطمِعٍ
خادِعٌ يُتلى بِحُزنٍ مُؤيِسِ
I passed it on, wavering between an ambitious plain
And a gloomy, despairing valley.
يا نَدى يُمنى أَبي القاسِمِ غِم
يا سَنا شَمسِ المُحَيّا أَشمِسِ
O joyful breath of my father Abu al-Qasim, be calm!
O ray of the rising sun, shine!
يا بَهيجَ الخُلُقِ العَذبِ اِبتَسِم
يا مُهيجَ الأَنِفِ الصَعبِ اِعبِسِ
O most gracious and gentle nature, smile!
O difficult and haughty spirit, frown!
يا جَمالَ المَوكِبِ الغادي إِذا
سارَ فيهِ يا بَهاءَ المَجلِسِ
O beauty of the departing procession, when
He walked in it, O splendor of the gathering!
أَنتَ لَم يُقنِعكَ أَن أَلبَستَني
نِعمَةً تُذكِرُ عَهدَ السُندُسِ
You were not satisfied that I clothed you
With blessings that recall the bygone finery,
فَتَلَطَّفتَ لِأَن حَلَّيتَني
مولِياً طولي مُحَلّىً مُلبَسِ
So you were gracious and adorned me
As a client dressed in splendor.
داكَ تَنويهٌ ثَناني فَخرُهُ
سامِيَ اللَحظِ أَشَمَّ المَعطِسِ
Yours is praise that exalts, its pride
Is sublime, the most fragrant scent.
شَرَّفَت بِكرَ المَعالي خِطبَةٌ
مِنكَ فَاِنعَم بِسُرورِ المُعرَسِ
The prime of glory was honored by a proposal
From you, and the groom rejoiced.
تُمنَحُ التَأييدَ يُجلى لَكَ عَن
ظَفَرٍ حُلوٍ وَعِزٍّ أَقعَسِ
You are granted support, victory shines on you,
Sweet and mighty triumph.
وَاِرتَشِف مَعسولَ نَصرٍ أَشنَبٍ
تَجتَنيهِ مِن عَجاجٍ أَلعَسِ
And sip the honeyed drink of speckled victory
That you collect from the grey grouse,
وَاِرتَفِق بِالسَعدِ في دَستِ المُنى
تُصبِحِ الصُنعَ دِهاقَ الأَكؤُسِ
And gently handle good fortune in the hand of wishes,
So that your works shine like goblets.
فَاِعتِراضُ الدَهرِ فيما شِئتَهُ
مُرتَقىً في صَدرِهِ لَم يَهجِسِ
Thus the course of fate, however you desire it,
Climbing in its breast, does not shudder.
