يا لَيتَ حرباً ذاقَ الأَعادي
طَعمَين مِنّا أَرياً وَسُمّا
If only there were a war in which the foe might taste
two flavors from us: honey and poison.
هَذا إِذا ما ناشبوهُ حَرباً
وَذا إِذا اِستَوهبوهُ سِلما
The poison, when they engage him in battle;
the honey, when they beg peace of him.
لا غرو إِن حَمّ منك جِسمٌ
فَعادَة الأسد أَن تُحمّا
No wonder that your body burned with fever:
for lions are accustomed to fever.
لَيُهنِني إِن طلعتَ بَدراً
لأعيُنِ الخَلقِِ مُستَتِمّا
May it gladden me, should you rise as a full moon,
before all creation’s eyes, in perfect fullness.
لا زِلتَ تَلقى العُداة بُؤسى
مِنكَ وَيَلقى الولاة نُعمى
May you ever confront the foe with misery
from you, while governors encounter bounty.
وَليَخزَ من قال مِن حسود
إِن يَكُنِ الحَقُّ قَد أَلَمّا
And shame upon the envious one who said,
“Perhaps the inevitable—death—has come upon him.”
Sol 5.6