ساجِعُ الشَرقِ طارَ عَن أَوكارِهِ
وَتَوَلّى فَنٌّ عَلى آثارِهِ
The East regained its glory, soaring from its lairs,
As art flourished in its vestiges left barren and bare.
غالَهُ نافِذُ الجَناحَينِ ماضٍ
لا تَفِرُّ النُسورُ مِن أَظفارِهِ
With wings spread freely, an eagle takes flight,
No claws make prey flee faster than its might.
يَطرُقُ الفَرخَ في الغُصونِ وَيَغشى
لُبَداً في الطَويلِ مِن أَعمارِهِ
The fledgling hidden in branches, a tender chick,
Its down just growing as the days tick.
كانَ مِزمارَهُ فَأصبَحَ داوُ
دُ كَئيباً يَبكي عَلى مِزمارِهِ
Once a flute, now but a mourning grievance;
Weeping for the music that was its sustenance.
عَبدُهُ بَيدَ أَنَّ كُلَّ مُغَنٍّ
عَبدُهُ في اِفتِنانِهِ وَاِبتِكارِهِ
A slave to passion in rapture and creation,
Each singer enslaved by fascination.
مَعبَدُ الدَولَتَينِ في مِصرَ وَإِسحا
قُ السَمِيَّينِ رَبِّ مِصرٍ وَجارِهِ
A shrine where two states worshipped as one,
Egypt and Syria, Lord and shining sun.
في بِساطِ الرَشيدِ يَوماً وَيَوماً
في حِمى جَعفَرٍ وَضافي سِتارِهِ
Once feasts in the Abbasid Caliph’s abode,
Now refuge in Ja’far’s care as time eroded.
صَفوُ مُلكَيهِما بِهِ في اِزدِيادٍ
وَمِنَ الصَفوِ أَن يَلوذَ بِدارِهِ
The glory of both realms by him made greater,
Seeking home when glory could not sate her.
يُخرِجُ المالِكينَ مِن حِشمَةِ المُل
كِ وَيُنسي الوَقورَ ذِكرَ وَقارِهِ
Dimming the luster of the royal air,
Forgetting decorum without a care.
رُبَّ لَيلٍ أَغارَ فيهِ القَماري
وَأَثارَ الحِسانَ مِن أَقمارِهِ
Many a night the gambler won acclaim,
Lighting stars that put the moon to shame.
بِصَباً يُذكِرُ الرِياضَ صَباهُ
وَحِجازٍ أَرَقُّ مِن أَسحارِهِ
Memories of youth in the gardens he brings,
Arabia through the poet’s strings sings.
وَغِناءٍ يُدارُ لَحناً فَلَحناً
كَحَديثِ النَديمِ أَو كَعُقارِهِ
Melodies flow, note after note,
Like a friend’s chatter or herbs antidote.
وَأَنينٍ لَو أَنَّهُ مِن مَشوقٍ
عَرَفَ السامِعونَ مَوضِعَ نارِهِ
A passion wails, if it were but for a lover,
The listeners would know where burns the ember.
يَتَمَنّى أَخو الهَوى مِنهُ آهاً
حينَ يُلحى تَكونُ مِن أَعذارِهِ
The lovelorn wish his sigh would portray,
When pressed, the excuses he cannot say.
زَفَراتٌ كَأَنَّها بَثُّ قَيسٍ
في مَعاني الهَوى وَفي أَخبارِهِ
Gasps that echo Qais in his agony,
Singing love’s meaning and its tragedy.
لا يُجازيهِ في تَفَنُّنِهِ العو
دُ وَلا يَشتَكي إِذا لَم يُجارِهِ
None can reward him for his art and creation,
He never complains of less appreciation.
يَسمَعُ اللَيلُ مِنهُ في الفَجرِ يا لَي
لُ فَيُصغي مُستَمهِلاً في فِرارِهِ
Dawn hears his songs, pleading: "Oh night, delay your death!"
As darkness slowly draws its dying breath.
فُجِعَ الناسُ يَومَ ماتَ الحَمولي
بِدَواءِ الهُمومِ في عَطّارِهِ
All mourned the day Hamouli passed on,
No cure left for grief in the apothecary gone.
بِأَبي الفَنِّ وَاِبنِهِ وَأَخيهِ
القَوِيِّ المَكينِ في أَسرارِهِ
Father of music, his son and his brother,
Strong in secrets none else could uncover.
وَالأَبِيِّ العَفيفِ في حالَتَيهِ
وَالجَوادِ الكَريمِ في إيثارِهِ
Pure elder in his prime and his fading,
Generous one, in giving unweighting.
يَحبِسُ اللَحنَ عَن غِنىً مُدِلٍّ
وَيُذيِقُ الفَقيرَ مِن مُختارِهِ
Holding back tunes from talented singers,
To let the poor enjoy his choice fingers.
يا مُغيثاً بِصَوتِهِ في الرَزايا
وَمُعيناً بِمالِهِ في المَكارِهِ
A voice to soothe in calamities cruel stings,
Wealth to help those who suffer slings.
وَمُحِلَّ الفَقيرِ بَينَ ذَويهِ
وَمُعِزَّ اليَتيمِ بَينَ صِغارِهِ
Sheltering the poor, their comfort he doubles,
Aiding the orphan, their woes he uncouples.
وَعِمادَ الصَديقِ إِن مالَ دَهرٌ
وَشِفاءَ المَحزونِ مِن أَكدارِهِ
A friend true when fortunes waver and wane,
Balm for the sorrowful, their grievance made plain.
لَستَ بِالراحِلِ القَليلِ فَتُنسى
واحِدُ الفَنِّ أُمَّةٌ في دِيارِهِ
You were no short-lived star to forget,
Maestro, your nation cannot your memory offset.
غايَةُ الدَهرِ إِن أَتى أَو تَوَلّى
ما لَقيتَ الغَداةَ مِن إِدبارِهِ
Fate comes or goes, beginnings or ends,
You met each dawn that daybreak sends.
نَزَلَ الجَدُّ في الثَرى وَتَساوى
ما مَضى مِن قِيامِهِ وَعِثارِهِ
The sublime now in the dust is lain,
Triumphs and failures, none shall remain.
وَاِنَقضى الداءُ بِاليَقينِ مِنَ الحا
لَينِ فَالمَوتُ مُنتَهى إِقصارِهِ
Illness fades, death shall end the pact,
The final limit beyond turning back.
لَهفَ قَومي عَلى مَخايِلِ عِزٍّ
زالَ عَنّا بِرَوضِهِ وَهَزارِهِ
My people grieve what pride we are missing,
The joy of your voice, your laughter ringing.
وَعَلى ذاهِبٍ مِنَ العَيشِ وَلَّي
تَ فَوَلّى الأَخيرُ مِن أَوطارِهِ
Mourning a life that has passed fleeting,
The last of times that is completing.
وَزَمانٍ أَنتَ الرِضى مِن بَقايا
هُ وَأَنتَ العَزاءُ مِن آثارِهِ
From remnants you bring contentment simmering,
Solace from ruins, new light glimmering.
كانَ لِلناسِ لَيلُهُ حينَ تَشدو
لَحَقَ اليَومَ لَيلُهُ بِنَهارِهِ
When people rejoiced in your tunes all night,
The day stretched to reach the dark’s height.
