إِنَّ الهَوى إِن كُنتَ عَنهُ تَسأَلُ
مَعنىً يَزيدُ بِما يَقولُ العُذَّلُ
Indeed, love—if it is love you ask about—
is a meaning that grows through what the censurers say.
تَجني العُيونُ ثِمارَهُ لَكِنَّها
تَجني بِهِنَّ عَلى القُلوبِ فَتَقتُلُ
The eyes harvest its fruits, yet with those eyes
it strikes at hearts and kills.
فَحَذارِ مِنهُ حَذارِ مِنهُ فَإِنَّني
مِنهُ عَلى قَلبي الجَريحِ لأَوجَلُ
Beware it, beware it—for I
fear it deeply for my wounded heart.
لأُعَذِّبَن عَينَيَّ إِن جَنَتا الهَوى
بِسُهادِ لَيلِهِما وَدَمعٍ يَهمُلُ
I will surely punish my eyes, if they reap love,
with the sleeplessness of their night and streaming tears.
يا مَن نَأى عَن ناظِري لَكِن ثَوى
في القَلبِ فَهوَ كَحبِّهِ لا يَرحَلُ
O you who have gone far from my sight yet dwell
within my heart, like its own love, never departing:
فَكَأَنَّهُ إِنسانُ عَيني لا أَرى
جُثمانَهُ وَبِهِ أَرى ما يَمثُلُ
it is as though you were the pupil of my eye—I do not see
your body, yet through you I see whatever appears.
وَكَذاكَ قَلبي غائِباً مَع قَرنِهِ
وَبِهِ إِلى ما أَبتَغي أَتَوَصَّلُ
And so my heart is absent along with its companion;
through him I reach all that I desire.
هَذا وَلِلشَوقِ المُبَرِّحِ في الحَشا
حُرَقٌ بِحَيثُ هَوى الحَبيب يُغَلغِلُ
Meanwhile, tormenting longing has within my breast
burning pains wherever the beloved’s passion penetrates.
لا دَرَّ درُّ البَينِ كَم مِن مُقلَةٍ
مِنهُ بِإِثمِدِ نَومِها ما تُكحَلُ
A curse upon separation! How many an eye
has never, because of it, been lined with sleep’s antimony.
ما لِلفِراقِ تَقَطَّعَت أَوصالُهُ
عَنّا بِبَينٍ قَطعُهُ لا يوصَلُ
What ails separation—may its own limbs be torn—
that it sunders us with a break no joining mends?
أَجرى العُيونَ مِنَ العُيونِ وَغَيَّض ال
صَبرَ الجَميلَ فَتَركُهُ بِيَ أَجمَلُ
It set tears running from the eyes and drained the—
beautiful patience; relinquishing it is fairer in me.
يا لَلرِّجالِ لجائِرٍ في حُكمِهِ
ما بالُهُ عَن جَورِهِ لا يَعدِلُ
Men, come see a tyrant in his judgment!
Why does he never turn from tyranny to justice?
في دَولَةٍ سارَت بِأَجمَل سيرَةٍ
فينا فَما لِلعَدلِ عَنها مَعدِلُ
In a realm whose course among us
has been fairest—why should justice turn away from it?
أَبكي وَيَضحَكُ مِن بُكايَ فَيَلتَقي
مِنّي وَمِنهُ مُدَلَّهٌ وَمُدَلَّلُ
I weep, and he laughs at my weeping; thus there meet
in me and him one love-maddened, one indulged.
حَجَبَ الكَرى ضَنّاً وَظَنّاً أَنَّهُ
سَيَجودُ بِالطَّيفِ الَّذي لا يَبخَلُ
He withheld sleep, stingily, imagining that he
would be generous with the dream-vision that never withholds itself.
وا غَيرَتا مِن خَصرِهِ وَجُفونِهِ
أَلِعِشقِها مِثلي لَهُ هِيَ نُحَّلُ
Ah, my jealousy of his waist and eyelids!
Have they too, like me, grown thin from loving him?
في كُلِّ عُضوٍ مِنهُ بَدرٌ طالِعٌ
في غَيرِ قَلبٍ خافِقٍ لا يَنزِلُ
In every part of him is a rising full moon,
and there is no beating heart into which he does not descend.
نَشوانُ هَزَّ قَوامَهُ بِصَبا الصِبى
فَلَهُ شَمولٌ مِن صَباهُ وَشَمأَلُ
Drunk with youth, the east wind of boyhood sways his figure;
his youth gives him both heady wine and a north wind.
لَئِنِ اِدَّعَت سِحرَ اللَّواحِظِ بابِلٌ
فَكَما اِدَّعَت خَمرَ اللَّمى قُطرُبُّلُ
If Babylon claims the magic of his glances,
so Qutrabbul claims the wine of his dark lips.
فَالخَصرُ يُنحِلُ عاشِقيهِ نُحولُهُ
وَالبُرءُ في خَصرِ اللَّمى لَو يُنحَلُ
His slender waist makes its lovers waste away;
yet healing lies in the dark-lipped one’s waist, if it would yield.
أَو ما رَأَيتَ الأَشرَفَ القَيلَ الَّذي
أَغنى الأَنامَ جَداهُ عَن أَن يَسأَلوا
Have you not seen al-Ashraf, the ruler whose
largesse spared mankind from having to ask—
أَولى المُلوكِ بِأَفعُلِ التَفضيلِ في
كُلِّ المَآثِرِ فَهوَ فيها الأَكمَلُ
foremost of kings in every superlative
and every noble deed, the most perfect in them all?
وَهوَ الجَديرُ بِكُلِّ مَدحٍ سائِرٍ
كَنَوالِهِ وَالأَطوَلُ المتَطَوِّلُ
He is worthy of every praise that travels,
like his bounty, and is the longest-reaching benefactor.
وَتَجورُ سيرَتُهُ عَلى أَموالِهِ
كَرَماً وَلَكِن في الرَعِيَّةِ تَعدِلُ
His conduct wrongs his wealth
through generosity, but toward his subjects it is just.
رَقَمَت لَهُ المُدّاحُ في حُلَلِ العُلا
طُرُزاً تَمَنّاها الطِرازُ الأَوَّلُ
For him, panegyrists embroidered upon the robes of glory
designs the primal brocade itself might envy.
بَيتٌ إِذا هَفَتِ الحُلومُ تَخالُهُ
ثَهلانَ ذا الهَضَباتِ لا يَتَحَلحَلُ
A house that, when minds grow flighty, you would deem
Mount Thahlan, broad-shouldered, never stirring.
ما اللَيثُ يَنفُضُ لبدَتَيهِ مُغضَباً
في الغيلِ يَزأَرُ وَهوَ فيهِ مُشبِلُ
No lion shaking out its mane in rage,
roaring in the thicket with cubs beside it,
شَثنُ البَراثِنِ قالِصاً عَن نابِهِ
دامي الأَظافِرِ واثِباً لا يُمهِلُ
broad-pawed, its lip drawn back from its fang,
claws bloodied, springing without respite,
صَخِبُ الشَوارِبِ كالِئاً أَشبالَهُ
شَرِساً تَكادُ الأَرضُ مِنهُ تَزَلزَلُ
bristling-whiskered, guarding its cubs,
so savage the earth nearly quakes beneath it,
يَوماً بِأَفتَكَ مِنهُ بَأساً في الوَغى
وَالمَوتُ يَعلو في الكُماةِ وَيَسفُلُ
is deadlier in battle on any day than he,
while death rises over warriors and descends.
يَسقي العِدا بِسِنانِهِ وَحُسامِهِ
كَأسَ الرَّدى فَيَعُلُّ مِنهُ وَيُنهِلُ
He gives the foe to drink from his spear and sword
the cup of doom, draught after draught.
وَإِذا يُجادِلُ في العُلومِ بُزاتَها
كانوا بُغاثاً وَهوَ فيهِم أَجدَلُ
And when he debates the masters of the sciences,
they are small birds, and among them he is a hawk.
في تاجِهِ قَمَرٌ وَفي ثِنتَي مُفا
ضَتِهِ هِزَبرٌ بِالحَديدِ مُسَربَلُ
A moon is in his crown, and within the two folds of his mai—
—l a lion, sheathed in iron.
سحان يُقدِمُ وَحدَهُ يَومَ الوَغى
فَيَعودُ بِالإِحجامِ عَنهُ الجَحفَلُ
He charges alone on the day of battle,
and the whole army turns back, too wary to face him.
فَالبِيضُ تَركَعُ وَالرُؤوسُ سَواجِدٌ
في التُربِ مِن حَرِّ الظُبى تَتَمَلمَلُ
White blades bow, and heads lie prostrate
in dust, writhing from the blades’ hot edge,
حَيثُ الحَنايا بِالسِّهامِ قَواذِفٌ
حُتُفاً تُكَبِّرُ في العِدا وَتُهَلِّلُ
where bows launch arrows
as deaths that cry God’s greatness and chant His praise against the foe.
فَبِسَيفِهِ مَجَّ الفِرَنجُ دِماءهُم
في البَحرِ حَتّى الماءُ مِنهُ أَشكَلُ
With his sword, the Franks spewed their blood
into the sea, until even its water darkened.
وَالمُسلِمونَ بِيُمنِ غُرَّتِهِ وَجو
دِ يَمينِهِ وَصَلوا إِلى ما أَمَّلوا
The Muslims, blessed by the radiance of his brow and the sharp—
—edge of his right hand, attained all they had hoped for.
مَلكٌ عُفاةُ الطَيرِ مِن ضيفانِهِ
وَضيافِنٌ غُبشٌ تَخوتُ وَتَعسِلُ
A king whose guests include hungry birds of prey
and dusky beasts that trot and lope.
وَإِذا المُلوكُ رَقَوا إِلى دَرَجِ العُلى
رُتَباً تَناوَلهنَّ موسى مِن عَلُ
When kings climb the degrees of loftiness,
Moses grasps those ranks from on high.
أَغنى الرِجال المُقتِرين نَوالُهُ
غَيري لِحِرمانٍ عَلَيَّ يُوَكَّلُ
His bounty has enriched impoverished men;
someone else, it seems, has been appointed to deny only me.
وَلَو اَنَّ أَربابَ القريضِ تَسابَقوا
في مَدحِهِ لَأَتَيتُ وَحدي أوَّلُ
Were the masters of verse to race
in praising him, I alone would arrive first.
قَد آن أَن أَرِدَ الفُراتَ فَأَرتَوي
مِنها فَكَم أَظماوكُم أَتَوَشَّلُ
The time has come for me to reach the Euphrates and drink my fill
from it; how long, parched, have I gathered mere droplets!
وَالعَجزُ أَوجَبَ لي الخُمولَ وَقَد أَرى
بابَ الغِنى فَتحاً فَلم لا أَدخُلُ
Incapacity has condemned me to obscurity, though I can see
the gate of wealth standing open—why do I not enter?
فَلَأَقصُدَن مَلِكاً يَجودُ بِرِفدِهِ
لِلسائِلينَ وَوَجهُهُ يَتَهَلَّلُ
I shall surely seek a king who grants his gifts
to petitioners while his face shines with delight.
أَسعى إِلَيهِ مُؤَمِّلاً فَأَعودُ عَن
هُ مُمَوَّلاً خَصبَ الجنابِ أُؤَمَّلُ
I go to him in hope, and shall return from—
—him enriched, hoping for his fertile court.
ما ذاكَ إِلّا الأَشرَفُ المَلكُ الَّذي
مَنصورُهُ في دَهرِهِ لا يُخذَلُ
That can be none but al-Ashraf, the king
whose cause, through his age, is never forsaken.
وَبِحَسبِ عافيهِ بَشيراً بِشرُهُ
فَبِغَيرِ ذاكَ إِلَيهِ لا يُتَوَسَّلُ
His cheerful welcome alone gives his petitioner glad tidings;
by no other means can one gain access to him.
نَهَضَت بِعِبءِ المُلكِ مِنهُ سِياسَةٌ
أَضحى الأَخَفّ عَلى عُلاها الأَثقَلُ
His statecraft shouldered the burden of kingship,
and on its heights the lightest became the weightiest.
أَمُظَفَّرَ الدينِ اِستَمِعها مِدحَةً
كَالعِقدِ بِالدُرِّ الثَمينِ يُفَصَّلُ
O Muzaffar al-Din, hear this praise,
set like a necklace with precious pearls.
فَكَأَنَّها لِلسامِعيها رَوضَةٌ
أُنُفٌ تَوَسَّطَها غَديرٌ سَلسَلُ
To its hearers it is as a virgin meadow
through whose midst a limpid stream runs.
