مَن لِنِضوٍ يَتَنَزّى أَلَما
بَرَّحَ الشَوقَ بِهِ في الغَلَسِ
A cry for one in agony transcending pain
Whose longing roams the darkness unconfined,
حَنَّ لِلبانِ وَناجى العَلَما
أَينَ شَرقُ الأَرضِ مِن أَندَلُسِ
Yearning for the crescent moon, communing with the stars—
Where is the Orient’s dawn from Andalusia’s dusk?
بُلبُلٌ عَلَّمَهُ البَينُ البَيان
باتَ في حَبلِ الشُجونِ اِرتَبَكا
A nightingale, taught by separation’s agony,
Spent the night tangled in the rope of woe,
في سَماءِ اللَيلِ مَخلوعَ العِنان
ضاقَتِ الأَرضُ عَلَيهِ شَبَكا
Free in the sky’s expanse, reined by longing’s ache,
The earth too narrow though unbound and bare.
كُلَّما اِستَوحَشَ في ظِلِّ الجِنان
جُنَّ فَاِسَتَضحَكَ مِن حَيثُ بَكى
Whenever in the garden’s shade it felt forlorn,
It smiled, though weeping, from the place it cried.
اِرتَدى بُرنُسَهُ وَاِلتَثَما
وَخَطا خُطوَةَ شَيخٍ مُرعَسِ
Donning its cloak, it groaned, walked with effort, bent,
Seeming, when crouched, a weary, aged crone,
وَيُرى ذا حَدَبٍ إِن جَثَما
فَإِن اِرتَدَّ بَدا ذا قَعَسِ
Seeming, when rising, crippled, hardly straight.
Yet still its beak showed gleaming midst the gore
فَمُهُ القاني عَلى لَبَّتِهِ
كَبَقايا الدَمِ في نَصلِ دَقيقِ
Like drops of blood on the slim blade’s keen edge
That stretched then split where it had been secure.
مَدَّهُ فَاِنشَقَّ مِن مَنبَتِهِ
مَن رَأى شِقَّي مِقَصٍ مِن عَقيقِ
Who sees the smooth split chrysolite’s twin sides
And weeps, heart-stricken, for its native folk,
وَبَكى شَجواً عَلى شَعبِهِ
شَجوَ ذاتِ الثُكلِ في السِترِ الرَقيقِ
Mourning beneath the delicate, thin screens?
His tongue was swift and freely spoke its mind,
سَلَّ مَن فيهِ لِساناً عَنَماً
ماضِياً في البَثِّ لَم يَحتَبِسِ
Roaming unrestrained through desolate sands,
A plucked string sounding clearly, but at peace,
وَتَرٌ مِن غَيرِ ضَربٍ رَنَّما
في الدُجى أَو شَرَرٌ مِن قَبَسِ
Sparks in the gloom or embers among ash.
His anguish, after stillness, was aroused:
نَفَرَت لَوعَتُهُ بَعدَ الهُدوء
وَالدُجى بَيتُ الجَوى وَالبُرَحا
The gloom is comfort’s home, the roof its rest.
Wounded, writhing, bearing up with broken wings,
يَتَعايا بِجَناحٍ وَيَنوء
بِجناحٍ مُذ وَهى ما صَلَحا
When were they ever whole or at their best?
Time has been cruel, continues cruelty,
سائَهُ الدَهرُ وَما زالَ يَسوء
ما عَلَيهِ لَو أَسا ما جَرَحا
No matter whether he submits or stands.
Whenever he strikes his hands in new remorse,
كُلَّما أَدمى يَدَيهِ نَدَماً
سالَتا مِن طَوقِهِ وَالبُرنُسِ
Blood drips from his neck-ring and turban bands
Till his eyelids offer nothing left but blood
فَنِيَت أَهدابُهُ إِلّا دَماً
قامَ كَالياقوتِ لَم يَنبَجِسِ
Set in his face like rubies fire-possessed.
By night he moaned, his feathers rustling, waved
مَدَّ في اللَيلِ أَنيناً وَخَفَق
خَفَقانَ القُرطِ في جُنحِ الشَعَر
In the soft, scented air by zephyrs fanned
Till his strength faded and he gasped for breath
فَرَغَت مِنهُ النَوى غَيرَ رَمَق
فَضلَةَ الجُرحِ إِذا الجُرحُ نَغَر
Like warm dissolving traces of a dream
Or embers paling at the night’s far end.
يَتَلاشى نَزَواتٍ في حُرَق
كَذُبالٍ آخِرَ اللَيلِ اِستَعَر
That was no torque his throat had donned, but pain.
God bless his soul! Did he at all know
لَم يَكُن طَوقاً وَلَكِن ضَرَما
ما عَلى لَبَّتِهِ مِن قَبَسِ
That it once breathed inside this breathing frame?
I said, “O Night, who is the spreader of his pain?”
رَحمَةُ اللَهِ لَهُ هَل عَلِما
أَنَّ تِلكَ النَفسَ مِن ذا النَفَسِ
She said, “Parting.” I said, “What is its breadth?”
She said, “A vale—the vale of endless woe
قُلتُ لِلَّيلِ وَلِلَّيلِ عَواد
مَن أَخو البَثِّ فَقالَ فِراق
Not bounded by Hijaz or Iraq.”
I said, “But it lacks generosity of tears.”
قُلتُ ما واديهِ قالَ الشَجوُ واد
لَيسَ فيهِ مِن حِجازٍ أَو عِراق
She said, “The worst of tears are those unshed.”
We envy birds—what agony therein lies!
قُلتُ لَكِن جَفنُهُ غَيرُ جَواد
قالَ شَرُّ الدَمعِ ما لَيسَ يُراق
Leave birds; good fortune’s made their nests its goal.
When I could not find rest beneath the stars
نَغبِطُ الطَيرَ وَما نَعلَمُ ما
هِيَ فيهِ مِن عَذابٍ بَئِسِ
As they sank down extinguished in night’s pall,
My eyelids rained upon my cheeks, tears flowed
فَدَعِ الطَيرَ وَحَظّاً قُسِما
صَيَّرَ الأَيكَ كَدورِ الأَنَسِ
Down my face—and what avails a drowning man
Crying aloud to one submerged like him?
ناحَ إِذ جَفنايَ في أَسرِ النُجوم
رَسَفا في السُهدِ وَالدَمعُ طَليق
For us alike this arrow causes pain;
All of us flee from destiny’s attack.
أَيُّها الصارِخُ مِن بَحرِ الهُموم
ما عَسى يُغني غَريقٌ مِن غَريق
Consider how the world’s divided out
In lots, some sweet, some bitter for those who taste.
إِنَّ هَذا السَهمَ لي مِنهُ كُلوم
كُلُّنا نازِحُ أَيكٍ وَفَريق
Look at mankind: you’ll scarcely find one spared
By fate’s sword thrusts, though screens may hide the trace.
قَلِّبِ الدُنيا تَجِدها قِسَماً
صُرِّفَت مِن أَنعُمٍ أَو أَبؤُسِ
O youth of Orient, heirs of glory’s house,
Saplings of pride and honest lineage bred,
وَاِنظُرِ الناسَ تَجِد مَن سَلِما
مِن سِهامِ الدَهرِ شَجَّتهُ القِسي
Yournoble birth’s enough; disguise it not
With ways of Samir’s heirs now long since dead.
يا شَبابَ الشَرقِ عُنوانَ الشَباب
ثَمَراتِ الحَسَبِ الزاكي النَمير
No prince ever entered through the door
Ofhonor’s book flung open for your line
حَسبُكُم في الكَرَمِ المَحضِ اللُباب
سيرَةٌ تَبقى بَقاءَ اِبنَي سَمير
Among the brilliant suns of Syria
You shone, and the crescent moons of Andalus.
في كِتابِ الفَخرِ لِلداخِلِ باب
لَم يَلِجهُ مِن بَني المُلكِ أَمير
The East took you as shining lights; then veered
And bent the West low, prostrate at your feet.
في الشُموسِ الزُهرِ بِالشامِ اِنتَمى
وَنَمى الأَقمارَ بِالأَندَلُسِ
Can you recall the best of news—the tale
That history’s page recounts, rich, sublime, and great?
قَعَدَ الشَرقُ عَلَيهِم مَأتَما
وَاِنثَنى الغَربُ بِهِم في عُرُسِ
An outstanding gem set mid the necklace,
Something concealed for crown and throne to take—
هَل لَكُم في نَبَإِ خَيرِ نَبَأ
حِليَةِ التاريخِ مَأثورٍ عَظيم
It baffles thought, except by one who binds
His passion with a purpose purely aimed.
حَلَّ في الأَنباءِ ما حَلَّت سَبَأ
مَنزِلَ الوُسطى مِنَ العِقدِ النَظيم
Truth draws his sympathy; his sign deserves
High station, though obscure and unproclaimed.
مِثلَهُ المِقدارُ يَوماً ما خَبَأ
لِسَليبِ التاجِ وَالعَرشِ كَظيم
A noble scion of the warm Yaman,
Among the champions free and bold, a youth
يُعجِزُ القُصّاصَ إِلّا قَلَما
في سَوادٍ مِن هَوىً لَم يُغمَسِ
Outstripping in his conquests, venturing
Beyond all bounds, untiring, quick to forge ahead—
يُؤثِرُ الصِدقَ وَيَجزي عَلَما
قَلَبَ العالَمَ لَو لَم يُطمَسِ
He left aside all other spoils and aims
For the rule his people had let slip away.
عَن عِصامِيٍّ نَبيلٍ مُعرِقِ
في بُناةِ المَجدِ أَبناءِ الفَخار
Waves rose against him, venturing hazard’s gusts,
As if the waves, too, marched at fate’s command
نَهَضَت دَولَتُهُم بِالمَشرِقِ
نَهضَةَ الشَمسِ بِأَطرافِ النَهار
Till came a shout from one who stood on shore:
“Salvation’s here! The covenant is signed!”
ثُمَّ خانَ التاجُ وُدَّ المَفرِقِ
وَنَبَت بِالأَنجُمِ الزُهرِ الدِيار
Trusting, he turned, submissive and resigned,
A lamb led unaware to slaughter’s yard,
غَفَلوا عَن ساهِرٍ حَولَ الحِمى
باسِطٍ مِن ساعِدَي مُفتَرِسِ
The army shedding his pure blood, their hearts
Like flinty rock from which no spark is struck.
حامَ حَولَ المُلكِ ثُمَّ اِقتَحَما
وَمَشى في الدَمِ مَشيَ الضِرسِ
O you who despair, though still unstruck by death—
If you want life, hope!—when events are harsh
ثَأرُ عُثمانَ لِمَروانٍ مَجاز
وَدَمَ السِبطِ أَثارَ الأَقرَبون
Do not feel your endurance cleanly ripped
Even if pressures peak beyond your strength.
حَسَّنوا لِلشامِ ثَأراً وَالحِجاز
فَتَغالى الناسُ فيما يَطلُبون
Just wait, be patient, for relief will burst
Through what had seemed impenetrable walls.
مَكرُ سُوّاسٍ عَلى الدَهماءِ جاز
وَرُعاةٌ بِالرَعايا يَلعَبون
He saw his power decline, dominion cease,
Yet he set out West with will undeterred
جَعَلوا الحَقَّ لِبَغيٍ سُلَّما
فَهوَ كَالسِترِ لَهُم وَالتُرُسِ
And soon achieved a kingdom men had lost
To remotest edges, beyond outspread plains.
وَقَديماً بِاِسمِهِ قَد ظَلَما
كُلُّ ذي مِئذَنَةٍ أَو جَرَسِ
Indeed—by God!—that plenitude was his:
No rugged road to glory had he faced
جُزِيَت مَروانُ عَن آبائِها
ما أَراقوا مِن دِماءٍ وَدُموع
Too hard for one resolved to climb its sheer
And pitiless ascent, who does not ask
وَمِنَ النَفسِ وَمِن أَهوائِها
ما يُؤَدّيهِ عَنِ الأَصلِ وَالفُروع
How or when,but only looks up to the stars.
A realm his people spurned was his to rule
خَلَتِ الأَعوادُ مِن أَسمائِها
وَتَغَطَّت بِالمَصاليبِ الجُذوع
Though fate and circumstance shift scenes around.
What structure built on true ambition’s base
ظَلَمَت حَتّى أَصابَت أَظلَما
حاصِدَ السَيفِ وَبيءَ المَحبَسِ
Could ever shake or bring that kingdom down?
Nights passed while he held power’s guiding reins,
فَطِناً في دَعوَةِ الآلِ لِما
هَمَسَ الشاني وَما لَم يَهمِسِ
His troops ranged forward in successive flow.
Deprived of glory in the Orient,
لَبِسَت بُردَ النَبِيِّ النَيِّرات
مِن بَني العَبّاسِ نوراً فَوقَ نور
He flung himself on brilliant Occident.
For a good man, whene’er disaster looms,
وَقَديماً عِندَ مَروانٍ تِرات
لِزَكِيّاتٍ مِنَ الأَنفُسِ نور
Good fortune peers from the distraught event.
An Umayyad in lineage, his quest
فَنَجا الداخِلُ سَبخاً بِالفُرات
تارِكَ الفِتنَةِ تَطغى وَتَنور
Strove upward on a steed of high descent,
His progress matched the moon’s, in lone retreat,
غَسَّ كَالحوتِ بِهِ وَاِقتَحَما
بَينَ عِبرَيهِ عُيونَ الحَرَسِ
No riders near to drink the landscape in.
Nor was his state on qualities more built
وَلَقَد يُجدي الفَتى أَن يَعلَما
صَهوَةَ الماءِ وَمَتنِ الفَرَسِ
Than his own noble traits of purity.
When morals are the ladder good men climb,
صَحِبَ الداخِلَ مِن إِخوَتِهِ
حَدَثٌ خاضَ الغُمارَ اِبنَ ثَمان
They rise and take possession of the stars.
There he ascended to exalted peaks
غَلَبَ المَوجَ عَلى قُوَّتِهِ
فَكَأَنَّ المَوجَ مِن جُندِ الزَمان
And sat himself on brilliance temples seat.
What equal kingdom did ambition found
وَإِذا بِالشَطِّ مِن شِقوَتِهِ
صائِحٌ صاحَ بِهِ نِلتَ الأَمان
As lands in West by conqueror annexed?
A youth who sprang from the most noble race
فَاِنثَنى مُنخَدِعاً مُستَسلِماً
شاةٌ اِغتَرَّت بِعَهدِ الأَلَسِ
And ruled an age—none ruled so well that age.
Nights governed him, and in their turns they set
خَضَبَ الجُندُ بِهِ الأَرضَ دَما
وَقُلوبُ الجُندِ كَالصَخرِ القَسي
A leader fit, night after night in line.
Robbed of his might in the Orient’s sphere,
أَيُّها اليائِسُ مُت قَبلَ المَمات
أَو إِذا شِئتَ حَياةً فَالرَجا
He flung himself on Occident for aid.
When what is good comes to a worthy soul,
لا يَضِق ذَرعُكَ عِندَ الأَزَمات
إِن هِيَ اِشتَدَّت وَأَمِّل فَرَجا
Trials themselves flash with a face serene.
Heart, are not you his comrade, you who fared
ذَلِكَ الداخِلُ لاقى مُظلِمات
لَم يَكُن يَأمُلُ مِنها مَخرَجا
Together, and together braved time’s whip?
While fate’s chance wheel kept turning round and round.
قَد تَوَلّى عِزُّهُ وَاِنصَرَما
فَمَضى مِن غَدِهِ لَم يَيأَسِ
Languid gazelles with shapely lips and sleek,
And gathered nectar from the lips of bloom.
رامَ بِالمَغرِبِ مُلكاً فَرَمى
أَبَعدَ الغَمرِ وَأَقصى اليَبَسِ
So take this epitome of life’s brief breath:
Its graph in one word phrases peak and pit.
ذاكَ وَاللَهِ الغِنى كُلُّ الغِنى
أَيُّ صَعبٍ في المَعالي ما سَلَك
Reflect how “union” starts, and “parting” ends it.
Each pair of opposites shows life’s true fit.
لَيسَ بِالسائِلِ إِن هَمَّ مَتى
لا وَلا الناظِرِ ما يوحي الفَلَك
Dreams are delusions in the state of wake,
And death delivers wakefulness from dreams.
زايَلَ المُلكُ ذَويهِ فَأَتى
مُلكَ قَومٍ ضَيَّعوهُ فَمَلَك
All of us soar awhile, until we plunge,
Though falling seem delayed beyond belief.
غَمَراتٌ عارَضَت مُقتَحِما
عالِيَ النَفسِ أَشَمَّ المَعطِسِ
Salute this ship whose sails were never trimmed
By self-regard or fear of hazard’s rebuff.
كُلُّ أَرضٍ حَلَّ فيها أَو حِمى
مَنزِلُ البَدرِ وَغابُ البَيهَسِ
Borne on the breeze of grace serene she flew
As heaven’s kindness breathed on her its breath.
نَزَلَ الناجي عَلى حُكمِ النَوى
وَتَوارى بِالسُرى مِن طالِبيه
The sea washed clean the wounds inflicted land,
And storms wiped out whatever grievance throve.
غَيرَ ذي رَحلٍ وَلا زادٍ سِوى
جَوهَرٍ وافاهُ مِن بَيتِ أَبيهِ
How did she know the one arriving here
Had left the Temple Mount on holy track?
قَمَرٌ لاقى خُسوفاً فَاِنزَوى
لَيسَ مِن آبائِهِ إِلّا نَبيه
An Umayyad, his journey set toward heights
On climbing path, choosing the peaks for goal.
لَم يَجِد أَعوانَهُ وَالخَدَما
جانَبوهُ غَيرَ بَدرِ الكَيِّسِ
His progress matched the moon’s lone flight, gold, pure,
No riders near to spoil the horizon’s ring.
مِن مَواليهِ الثِقاتِ القُدُما
لَم يَخُنهُ في الزَمانِ الموئِسِ
What structure built on true ambition’s base
Could ever shake or bring its kingdom down?
حينَ في إِفريقيا اِنحَلَّ الوِئام
وَاِضمَحَلَّت آيَةُ الفَتحِ الجَليل
Darkness and night together argue still:
Can black descent destroy such pedigree?
ماتَتِ الأُمَّةُ في غَيرِ اِلتِئام
وَكَثيرٌ لَيسَ يَلتامُ قَليل
In Africa his people fell to strife,
Their pact of faith dissolved in clouds unclean.
يَمَنٌ سَلَّت ظُباها وَالشَآم
شامَها هِندِيَّةً ذاتَ صَليل
The common folk are many; few cohere;
Yaman’s has lost its brilliant, piercing gleam
فَرَّقَ الجُندَ الغِنى فَاِنقَسَما
وَغَدا بَينَهُم الحَقُّ نَسي
And Syria is reduced to tinkling bells
With jingling rings, not lances sharp and keen.
أَوحَشَ السُؤدُدُ فيهِم وَسَما
لِلمَعالي مَن بِهِ لَم تانَسِ
Wealth split his troops till two warring camps appeared,
Truth now between them lost, no longer seen.
رُحِموا بِالعَبقَرِيِّ النابِهِ
البَعيدِ الهِمَّةِ الصَعبِ القِياد
Mistrust crept in; they sniffed the odor of
Calamity—relaxing, casual mien
مَدَّ في الفَتحِ وَفي أَطنابِهِ
لَم يَقِف عِندَ بِناءِ اِبنِ زِياد
Toward noble deeds meant death itself for them
Who climbed ambition’s height or strove ahead.
هَجَرَ الصَيدَ فَما يُغنى بِهِ
وَهوَ بِالمُلكِ رَفيقٌ ذو اِصطِياد
Take pity on this genius, pure of soul,
His heart aspiring, bold to steer and guide.
سَل بِهِ أَندَلُساً هَل سَلِما
مِن أَخي صَيدٍ رَفيقٍ مَرِسِ
Extending as he gained in conquests wide,
He had no care to live in ease or pride.
جَرَّدَ السَيفَ وَهَزَّ القَلَما
وَرَمى بِالرَأيِ أُمَّ الخُلَسِ
For though possessed of absolute domain
In partnership with rule he placed delight.
بِسَلامٍ يا شِراعاً ما دَرى
ما عَلَيهِ مِن حَياءٍ وَسَخاء
He sent out to ask Andalus how fared
His brother hunter in that glad pursuit.
في جَناحِ المَلَكِ الروحُ جَرى
وَبِريحٍ حَفَّها اللُطفُ رُخاء
He stripped for war, but also brought the pen
To serve when views and messages were writ.
غَسَلَ اليَمُّ جِراحاتِ الثَرى
وَمَحا الشِدَّةَ مَن يَمحو الرَخاء
Greetings to you, O ship whose master took
No thought of shame or generosity’s debt—
هَل دَرى أَندَلُسٌ مَن قَدِما
دارَهُ مِن نَحوِ بَيتِ المَقدِسِ
For royal qualities made you their home;
The winds of grace sped you, delight’s tears your balm.
بِسَليلِ الأَمَوِيّينَ سَما
فَتحُ موسى مُستَقِرَّ الأُسُسِ
The sea has washed all wounds that hurt the land.
Good cheer wiped out whatever drew its groans.
أَمَوِيٌّ لِلعُلا رِحلَتُهُ
وَالمَعالي بِمَطِيٍّ وَطُرُق
Did Andalusia know who came their way
From Syria’s halls, the Sacred City’s gate?
كَالهِلالِ اِنفَرَدَت نُقلَتُهُ
لا يُجاريهِ رُكابٌ في الأُفُق
An Umayyad, his journey set for heights
On climbing path, choosing the peaks for goal.
ما بُنِيَت مِن خُلُقٍ دَولَتُهُ
قَد يَشيدُ الدُوَلَ الشُمَّ الخُلُق
He left a realm whose people failed his trust
And came into another folk’s abode
وَإِذا الأَخلاقُ كانَت سُلَّما
نالَتِ النَجمَ يَدُ المُلتَمِسِ
Bringing his jewel—the sole resource he owned,
An heirloom gem from parental halls of pride.
فَاِرقَ فيها تَرقَ أَسبابَ السَما
وَعَلى ناصِيَةِ الشَمسِ اِجلِسِ
No servants failed him, nor attendants left
Except the faithful few who stayed by his side.
أَيُّ ملُكٍ مِن بِناياتِ الهِمَم
أَسَّسَ الداخِلُ في الغَربِ وَشاد
A moon went dark, distraught, eclipsed—but still
He drew his light from ancestry sublime.
ذَلِكَ الناشِئُ في خَيرِ الأُمَم
سادَ في الأَرضِ وَلَم يُخلَق يُساد
He found no ready troops to give support,
But only those who loved him long ago.
حَكَمَت فيهِ اللَيالي وَحَكَم
في عَواديها قِياداً بِقِياد
Trustworthy, loyal men of former days
Did not abandon him in that sore strait.
سُلِبَ العِزَّ بِشَرقٍ فَرَمى
جانِبَ الغَربِ لِعِزٍّ أَقعَسِ
As Africa lost safety, concord, peace,
And the grand days of conquest were no more,
وَإِذا الخَيرُ لِعَبدٍ قُسِما
سَنَحَ السَعدُ لَهُ في النَحسِ
The nation failed to reunite again
When discord’s rout had crushed the weak and poor.
أَيُّها القَلبُ أَحَقٌّ أَنتَ جار
لِلَّذي كانَ عَلى الدَهرِ يَجير
From Marwan came Umayyah’s recompense:
The murders and the tears and pain it wrought—
هاهُنا حَلَّ بِهِ الرَكبُ وَسار
وَهُنا ثاوٍ إِلى البَعثِ الأَسير
Then tree-trunks stripped of branches, left alone;
The crosses’ shadows overwhelming them.
فَلَكٌ بِالسَعدِ وَالنَحسِ مُدار
صَرَعَ الجامَ وَأَلوى بِالمُدير
Wrong ruled until it reached the darkest stain
That sword could reap or prison’s grip secure
ها هُنا كُنتَ تَرى حُوَّ الدُمى
فاتِناتٍ بِالشِفاهِ اللُعُسِ
Until the Abbasid summons offered hope
Ofjust requital for the crimes endured.
ناقِلاتٍ في العَبيرِ القَدَما
واطِئاتٍ في حَبيرِ السُندُسِ
Alids donned the gown the Prophet wore,
Adding their light to light already blessed.
خُذ عَنِ الدُنيا بَليغَ العِظَةِ
قَد تَجَلَّت في بَليغِ الكَلِمِ
To Marwan previously the gown seemed proof
Those People of the House were scarcely worth
طَرَفاها جُمِعا في لَفظَةٍ
فَتَأَمَّل طَرَفَيها تَعلَمِ
A thought. But wrong cannot conceal its tracks.
The world, whose eyes were stabbed, can still see plain.
الأَماني حُلمٌ في يَقظَةِ
وَالمَنايا يَقظَةٌ مِن حُلُمِ
They granted Marwan what his ancestors earned:
The blood they spilled, the crying and the pain.
كُلُّ ذي سِقطَينِ في الجَوِّ سَما
واقِعٌ يَوماً وَإِن لَم يُغرَسِ
You were an Umayyad, a falcon knight.
What fault rests on a falcon when not struck?
وَسَيَلقى حَينَهُ نَسرُ السَما
يَومَ تُطوى كَالكِتابِ الدَرسِ
Ask where they buried those exalted men,
And you will find them in the hearts and souls.
أَينَ يا واحِدَ مَروانَ عَلَم
مَن دَعاكَ الصَقرُ سَمّاهُ العُقاب
What graves are graced by earth to hide beneath
The vilest dead, compared to Magian throngs!
رايَةٌ صَرَّفَها الفَردُ العَلَم
عَن وُجوهِ النَصرِ تَصريفَ النِقاب
For though interred, what corpses has one seen
More loathsome than these bodies when still whole—
كُنتَ إِن جَرَّدتَ سَيفاً أَو قَلَم
أُبتَ بِالأَلبابِ أَو دِنتَ الرِقاب
Souls dead before the flesh that wrapped them round,
Not waiting for the final breath’s expulsion.
ما رَأى الناسُ سِواهُ عَلَما
لَم يُرَم في لُجَّةٍ أَي يَبَسِ
Yet many bones will speak when they proclaim
The virtues that the heedless ages left unknown.
أَعَلى رُكنِ السِماكِ اِدَّعَما
وَتَغَطّى بِجَناحِ القُدُسِ
So for yourself prepare a grave of words;
Build it of earned praise safe from all erosion.
قَصرُكَ المُنيَةُ مِن قُرطُبَه
فيهِ وارَوكَ وَلِلَّهِ المَصير
Greed goaded you to mount construction’s heights.
Where are those mighty builders now? Say where!
صَدَفٌ خُطَّ عَلى جَوهَرَةٍ
بَيدَ أَنَّ الدَهرَ نَبّاشٌ بَصير
Your fortress fared the same as you: each passed.
God knows of all that is, and what will be.
لَم يَدَع ظِلّاً لِقَصرِ المُنيَةِ
وَكَذا عُمرُ الأَمانِيِّ قَصير
A shell inscribed on pearl—so was your fate,
Except the world is blind, and does not see.
كُنتَ صَقراً قُرَشِيّاً عَلَما
ما عَلى الصَقرِ إِذ لَم يُرمَسِ
Nor did death’s shadow leave your ramparts space;
Like the life of wishes, life goes quick.
إِن تَسَل أَينَ قُبورُ العُظَما
فَعَلى الأَفواهِ أَو في الأَنفُسِ
A falcon, yes, Umayyad! When no stone
Strikes it, what blame rests on the falcon then?
كَم قُبورٍ زَيَّنَت جيدَ الثَرى
تَحتَها أَنجَسُ مِن مَيتِ المَجوس
Ask where they buried those exalted souls;
For their true grave, ask where it lies within.
كانَ مَن فيها وَإِن جازوا الثَرى
قَبلَ مَوتِ الجِسمِ أَمواتُ النُفوس
What graves are dressed in earth’s adorning gowns
While rottenness inside smells worse than death!
وَعِظامٌ تَتَزَكّى عَنبَراً
مِن ثَناءٍ صِرنَ أَغفالَ الرُموس
Build your own grave of words; do not construct
From transient brick and stone doomed soon to crumble.
فَاِتَّخِذ قَبرَكَ مِن ذِكرٍ فَما
تَبنِ مِن مَحمودِهِ لا يُطمَسِ
Ambition pricked you to ascend the heights.
Where are those climbers now? Where hid? Where gone?
هَبكَ مِن حِرصٍ سَكَنتَ الهَرَما
أَينَ بانيهِ المَنيعُ المَلمَسِ
Your mansion suffered just the same as you:
Both passed away. To God affairs return.
