قُل لِلأَميرِ الَّذي قَد نالَ ما طَلَبا
وَرَدَّ مِن سالِفِ المَعروفِ ما ذَهَبا
Tell the prince who has attained what he desired,
And got his share of past favors that vanished,
مَن نالَ مِن سُؤدُدٍ زاكٍ وَمِن حَسَبٍ
ما حَسبُ واصِفِهِ مِن وَصفِهِ حَسَبا
He who attained noble ancestry and lineage—
His lineage descriptor falls short of describing him.
إِذا المَكارِمُ عُقَّت وَاِستُخِفَّ بِها
أَضحى النَدى وَالسَدى أُمّاً لَهُ وَأَبا
When virtues are scarce and thought little of,
Glory and chivalry become his mother and father.
تَرضى السُيوفُ بِهِ في الرَوعِ مُنتَصِراً
وَيَغضَبُ الدينَ وَالدُنيا إِذا غَضِبا
Swords are pleased with him in turmoil victorious,
And religion and world wrathful if he is wrathful.
في مُصعَبِيّينَ ما لاقَوا مُريدَ رَدىً
لِلمُلكِ إِلّا أَصاروا خَدَّهُ تَرِبا
The fate of the two Mus'abs who met a spurner
Of kingdom was only that his cheek turned dust.
كَأَنَّهُم وَقَلَنسى البيضِ فَوقَهُمُ
يَومَ الهِياجِ بُدورٌ قُلنِسَت شُهُبا
As if they and the white helmets above them
On the day of battle were old felt caps.
فِداءُ نَعلِكَ مُعطىً حَظَّ مُكرُمَةٍ
أَصغى إِلى المَطلِ حَتّى باعَ ما وَهَبا
The ransom of your sandal given is the fortune of one honored—
He listened to blame until he sold what he was given.
إِنّي وَإِن كانَ قَومٌ ما لَهُم سَبَبٌ
إِلّا قَضاءٌ كَفاهُم دونِيَ السَبَبا
Truly, though there are people who have no cause
Save destiny that sufficed them without my cause,
وَكُنتُ أَعلَمُ عِلماً لا كِفاءَ لَهُ
أَن لَيسَ كُلُّ قِطارٍ يُنبِتُ العُشُبا
And I knew a knowledge without peer
That not every train makes the grass grow.
وَرُبَّما عَدَلَت كَفُّ الكَريمِ عَنِ ال
قَومِ الحُضورِ وَنالَت مَعشَراً غَيَبا
And sometimes the palm of the generous one turns from
A people of presence and attains an absent tribe.
لَمُضمِرٌ غُلَّةً تَخبو فَيُضرِمُها
أَنّي سَبَقتُ وَيُعطى غَيرِيَ القَصَبا
There is a concealer of rancor that smolders, so he kindles it—
I preceded yet another is given the cane.
وَنادِبٌ رِفعَةً قَد كُنتُ آمُلُها
لَدَيكَ لا فِضَّةً أَبكي وَلا ذَهَبا
And a lamenter of high rank I had hoped for
From you—neither silver do I weep nor gold.
أَدعوكَ دَعوَةَ مَظلومٍ وَسيلَتُهُ
إِن لَم تَكُن بي رَحيماً فَاِرحَمِ الأَدَبا
I call you the call of a wronged one whose sole means
Is that if you are not merciful to me, then have mercy on propriety.
اِحفَظ وَسائِلَ شِعرٍ فيكَ ما ذَهَبَت
خَواطِفُ البَرقِ إِلّا دونَ ما ذَهَبا
Preserve the ways of poetry in you that have not vanished
Except what vanished of the blinks of lightning.
يَغدونَ مُغتَرِباتٍ في البِلادِ فَما
يَزَلنَ يُؤنِسنَ في الآفاقِ مُغتَرَبا
They go wandering in the lands, yet they
Do not cease comforting in the horizons a wanderer.
وَلا تُضِعها فَما في الأَرضِ أَحسَنُ مِن
نَظمِ القَوافي إِذا ما صادَفَت حَسَبا
And do not place them, for nothing in the earth is better than
The rhyme arrangement when it meets lineage.
