لعمري أنتم العرب الكرام — Aloshari

By my life, you are the noble Arabs,

and those by whose light humankind is guided.

Lofty honors rise with the elevation of your glory,

as a keen sword gains distinction through its metal.

The father of Time submitted to you, until

you seemed a bridle for its unruly force.

Heads bowed before you, for you are

their crown when the press grows fierce.

O scion of the imams of Quraysh,

each one among you is an imam.

O very essence of Manaf's choicest stock,

and those under whose protection pledges are upheld.

O house of prophethood—a house

to which the mighty heavens bow.

Did Gabriel appear among anyone other than you,

with dust showing upon his front teeth?

Is it in any house but yours that the Oft-Repeated verses

are repeated, and prayer is performed therein?

Yes, you are truly the guides of humankind;

but for you, they would wander in the valley of ignorance.

For the ignorant, a light from which to draw illumination,

and for seekers of bounty, an ocean or a rain cloud.

Your glory is inherited from the house of Fakhr:

discerning masters, noble and generous lords.

They are the scholars and rulers among us,

and rain when the base withhold their bounty.

They are a light upon the summit of lofty honors,

by which black nights and darkness are illumined.

Taha raised them to eminence and virtue,

and our master Ali—not Hisham.

Oceans that gifts cannot muddy,

protectors: whoever comes to them is never wronged.

Their virtues have indeed grown great and glorious,

for they are illustrious, mighty men.

Lofty honors indeed began with their grandfather,

and Abd Allah was their culmination.

In every noble deed and virtue, he has

a heart that wine cannot distract.

Beside his bounty, other people seem a mirage,

and a lifetime is like what the base bestow.

The envious shrink before his loftiness,

even if their bodies are huge.

He dwells among them, though not through any likeness,

yet the source of gold is dust.

Through him their inner sight awakened; before,

their eyes were open, but they were asleep.

Not one of them is his peer,

and their only peers are food.

When Abd Allah appears, they turn away,

as though their horsemen's lances were thumam grass.

Their eloquent speakers are confounded before him,

however much adornment and speech abound.

Had the non-Arabs ever honored their pledges,

the sword would have spared its polisher's neck.

Our world is surely the most contemptible of all things,

and those among us most like our world are the rabble.

But for the Judge's wisdom among us,

the army would rise and the dust would fall.

Were they to seek ascent or elevation

to his rank, the very quest would abase them.

By your honor, though many, they are but wreckage—

a radiance with darkness in its depths.

For them, drunkenness is like youth, and old—

—age, both of them; thus life itself is death.

Time has indeed begrudged him an equal,

and not everyone is blamed for stinginess.

The tongue of circumstance tells them: 'I

am a place for an equal among their like.'

By nature he shunned the disgraces of baseness,

for only the noble escape them.

How radiant are noble deeds when perfected,

and their possessors gain perfection through them!

When he rose, and his father rose,

they towered above Dhu al-Mughith and Dhu al-Lukam.

He passes over the noses of proud lords, yet

passes over them as a rain cloud passes.

We suckled his rain-pouring palm and lived;

he is a full moon whose nursling is never weaned.

He continues in his virtues and endures,

and endurance is among his gifts.

He has indeed hidden Time's faults from us,

as ordered pearls conceal their thread.

He passionately loved every lofty rank,

and whoever loves finds passion sweet.

Each was enamored of him, and he of it,

and he attained union with it, so no sickness afflicts him.

He attained perfection in learning while still a child,

so we cannot tell: is he an elder or a youth?

Ask as you please, if you wish to put a question to him;

but in debate he is unassailable.

Taking his gifts brings people praise,

but receiving some men's bounty brings blame.

His favors have settled upon people's necks:

they are collars, and the people are doves.

Every excellence is confined to him,

as the rain-star seasons, when counted, make a year.

A young man whose keen swords protect fair women,

when blows grow hot upon their edges.

If you brought those in the West glad tidings of him,

they would give you what they prayed and fasted for.

In times of terror he has companions and kinsmen,

light-footed, their spears filled with fierceness.

They drive back great armies with tall lances,

with slanting thrusts and paired blows.

In shame, the thirsting sword recoils before them,

and arrows glance away from their faces.

O you who have borne every burden,

as the bones bear the body.

Who could match you, O son of Fakhr,

with Haydar, the valiant king, your grandfather?

Your wealth you earn rightfully,

and humankind shares in its treasures.

You are not truly a companion to riches,

for companionship makes loyalty binding.

When it settles in your palm, you become a master

whose hand is shaken by a leprous hand.

Your mark is generosity and slanting spear thrusts;

by this the mighty army knows you.

The festivals have indeed laughed with joy for you,

as though you were a smile in the mouth of Time.

This festival has come saying, in essence:

'Upon you be your Lord's blessing and peace.'