عظيم لعمري أن يلم عظيم — Almaarri

Grievous indeed, by my life, that a grave affliction should befall

the house of ʿAlī while all mankind is well.

Yet they are a house of steadfast honor and high glory,

and so stand as foes to the calamities of Time.

If one such calamity spends the night among them, fevered and sick,

it bears wounds and gashes dealt by them.

Joy to the people of this age at Muhammad’s recovery,

whether ignorant or learned among them.

Most implacable, with the twin points of his sword and spear,

when no adversary is vanquished by any but those two.

God keep you: do not alarm a loyal friend with an angry outburst;

perhaps he has an excuse even as you blame him.

If your reproach paid the immortals a single visit,

it would make them think the gardens of Paradise were Hell.

When the breaths of Nājir rage through the meadow,

what lightning-flash am I to scan in the rainclouds?

And can I find a noonday rest in al-Naʿām’s shade

when a simoom has withheld the shade of the arāk trees?

Never did I know that one like you could fall ill,

or that winds could ever alter a breeze.

Nor has the world closed its broad passes upon humankind,

so that the praiseworthy and the blameworthy alike should perish in it.

And if illness has taken some share of you, how often

have I seen the horizon’s crescent looking pale and sick.

Should separation overtake al-Simāk, you all would journey away—

then plunge into death’s perils, while al-Simāk remains fixed.

For you are the kindred of the Pleiades and the Farqad stars,

though bodies have made you resemble mortal men.

For the radiance of earth’s stars is never absent,

and in heaven’s vault there too are stars.

Would that you were an immortal light for the celestial spheres,

so death’s vicissitude might carry us away while you endure.

The latest-born sons of Time would see it unchanged,

just as Jurhum and Umaym beheld it.