عارضننا أصلا فقلنا الربرب — Albohtry

They crossed our path at evening, and we said, "A herd of oryx!"

Until the cool, pearly chrysanthemum of their teeth shone.

And the embroidery of their cloaks turned green, while there appeared

From them the gilded brocade of their cheeks.

They flashed through gaps in the curtained chambers, startling us—

Two flashes: one promising rain but beyond reach, the other rainless.

And had I been fair in love's judgment,

I would not have watched for lightning with my head grown gray.

And indeed I forbade my tears on the day at Suwayqa,

But overpowering surges of weeping refused, not to be overcome.

And beyond the tale-bearers' woven schemes is one rich

In beauty, charming to hearts and sweet.

Like the full moon, save that she is not unveiled,

And like the sun, save that she never sets.

The winds came at evening to your dwellings, languid,

And the rain-pouring cloud reached your abode.

I shall recount what I endure; if you call me a liar,

Then ask my tears, for they do not lie.

You turned away until I thought myself unjust,

And you reproached me until I said I was guilty.

How strange your desertion before separation scattered

Us—and your joining me across the distance is stranger still.

How did you find your way—when you had not—to one shrouded

In the night at 'Ana, while the Pleiades were borne southward?

The traces faded, but his heart has not been emptied

Of the memory of longing that will not change and vanish.

Did you leave him at al-Habl, then seek him

At the channel of Bariq, where finding him was hard,

After love had worn threadbare, and there intervened

Before a meeting a distance that would not shorten?

And she-camels flung us toward Iraq,

Black-cheeked, their mouth-foam like water-moss.

Each flying with five beating appendages,

Black, like a startled, swift-running male ostrich.

They carry each man distracted by an ambition

So vast that the broad, level expanse is too narrow for it.

They rode the Euphrates toward a Euphrates, hoping for

A joyful man, inventive and astonishing in generosity.

At a height sought, but never attained

By those who sought it, as though it had never been sought.

A generosity from which men hope for gifts beyond all hope,

So immense—and through it gifts otherwise ungiven are bestowed.

He gave, and they asked, "Is this Hatim or Khalid?"

And he kept faith, and they asked, "Is this Talha or Mus'ab?"

Two elders who bound, for the leader of Hashim's house,

The bond of the caliphate, while she was a maiden being wooed.

By their counsel they unwove the scheme woven

For Umayya's sons by Dhu al-Kala' and Hawshab.

So when a friend forsakes his friend, those two are

An arm and shoulder for the rule of the protector's sons.

And upon the emir Abu al-Husayn lies a calm

In terror, wherein the mighty, thick-necked lion rests.

And Islam's spear, when he brandishes it, has

A terror before which hypocrisy is startled and afraid.

Those Red-Clad men who rushed headlong—

One eastward in his error, another westward;

And the Khurramiyya, when their throngs massed

Like pebbles and rubble in the mountains of Qurran,

They surged, and the lowland ran with them

In torrents, while the upland sprouted thick with them.

They rush toward deaths as though these were

Abundant wealth in their enemy's land, to be plundered.

Until, when the lamps of guidance nearly

Went out, and its tightly twisted cord was nearly severed,

He struck the mountains with mountains of his resolve,

Wrathful, thrusting and striking with death.

He appeared on high, and they thought him the fate

They had heard of—some believing, others denying.

You rose against them, while the gleaming swords were like

Flames blazing in their hands.

And you stood your ground, your stand praised and noble,

While the white blades floated in the dust and sank.

You see nothing but the blazing of a star

In a helmet's crown, where another star has sunk.

So one lies felled, one blood-stained, one pillowed,

And one drenched, one smeared, one dyed with blood.

They were stripped, while blood shone upon them,

Crimson, as though they had never been stripped.

Even had they ridden the stars, there would have been

No escape for their most determined man from your might's grasp.

And you tightened the bond of two caliphates, one caliphate

After another, while the caliphs were absent.

When those affairs grew tangled, and men hazarded

Those conjectures, and that deep darkness surged.

And Baghdad gathered together, then split

Into factions escorted by ever-accompanying error.

So you secured their pledge of allegiance to the purest ruler

By the sword, when they rioted against you and raised a clamor.

And God strengthened you and raised your renown

Through victory: it is read and written in heaven.

And you indeed are the caliphate's strength, whether at dawn

Or dusk a council or procession sets out from it.

And the first to hasten to the beginnings of a cause

For which the Lord of heaven is pleased and grows wrathful.

And men granted victory: when their banner rises

In glory, its master attains what he seeks.

Good fortune that outruns the wind in reaching glory,

Racing ahead when luckless fortunes falter.

Never were your banners deployed against an opponent

But his impregnable refuge crumbled.

And when a rebel leapt up in some quarter,

Your swords kept leaping upon him.

And whenever I pondered time, I found it

Turns of fortune revolving through your hands.