هَل كانَ يَومُكَ إِلّا بَعدَ أَيّامِ
سَبَقتَ فيها بِإِنعامِ وَإِرغامِ
Was your day anything but the sequel to days
in which you led all others in bounty and subjugation?
وَهَل أَزالَكَ عَن هَذا سِوى قَدَرٍ
تَناوَلَ الأُسدَ مِن غيلٍ وَآجامِ
And did anything take you from us but a decree
that reaches lions in thickets and jungle lairs?
إِنَّ المَنايا مُغِرّاتٌ لِأَنفُسِنا
وَإِن أَمَدَّت بِأَعوامٍ وَأَعوامِ
Deaths are raiders descending upon our souls,
though they grant us reprieve year after year.
نَسعى بِأَقدامِنا عَنها فَتُدرِكُنا
سَبقَ الجِيادِ وَما تَسعى بِأَقدامِ
We flee them on our feet, yet they overtake us
with racehorses’ speed, though they run on no feet.
ما لي بِطَيِّ اللَيالي غَيرُ مُكتَرِثٍ
وَما وَرائِيَ مِنها كانَ قُدّامي
Why do I fold away the nights so heedlessly,
when what now lies behind me once lay ahead?
أَظُنُّ شَخصَ الرَدى فَرداً فَأَحذَرُهُ
وَالمَوتُ أَكبَرُ مِن ظَنّي وَأَوهامي
I picture death as a single foe and guard against it,
yet death is greater than all my thoughts and fancies.
إِنَّ الحَياةَ وَإِن غَرَّت مَخائِلُها
ظِلٌّ وَإِنَّ المُنى أَضغاثُ أَحلامِ
Life, though its promising signs beguile us,
is a shadow, and hopes are confused dreams.
نامي البَقاءِ إِلى الذاوي تَراجُعُهُ
كُلّاً وَلا يَرجِعُ الذاوي إِلى النامي
Everything flourishing retreats toward withering;
never does the withered return to flourishing.
أَبا الفَوارِسِ ما أَعلى يَداً عَصَفَت
مِنَ المَنونِ بِأَعلى عِزِّكَ السامي
O father of horsemen, what a lofty hand of yours was swept away
by death, at the very summit of your sublime might!
إِنَّ المَنِيَةَ ما زالَت مُفَوَّقَةً
حَتّى رَمَتكَ وَلا عَدوى عَلى الرامي
Death had always kept its arrow trained
until it struck you—and no redress lies against the archer.
كَرَّت فَلَم تَثنِها بِالسُمرِ مُشرَعَةً
وَلَم تَرُعها بِإِسراجِ وَإِلجامِ
It charged; you could not turn it with leveled brown lances,
nor frighten it with saddling and bridling.
أَلا اِتَّقَيتَ بِما سَوَّمتَ مِن عُدَدٍ
وَما تَعَلَّمتَ مِن نَقضٍ وَإِبرامِ
Could you not shield yourself with the forces you arrayed,
and all you had learned of loosening and binding?
هَيهاتَ أَلقىحِمامٌ كُلَّ مارِنَةٍ
تَدمى وَأَبطَلَ مَوتٌ كُلَّ إِقدامِ
Far from it! Doom cast down every supple spear,
left it bloodied, and death annulled every deed of courage.
تُملي المَقاديرُ أَعماراً وَتَنسَخُها
وَيَضرِبُ الدَهرُ أَيّاماً بِأَيّامِ
The decrees dictate lifespans, then erase them,
and Time strikes out days with other days.
فَمِن كَمينِ رَدىً تَسري عَقارِبُهُ
وَمِن طَلوعٍ بَراياتِ وَأَعلامِ
Now the scorpions of death creep from ambush;
now death rises beneath banners and standards.
أَينَ السَريرِ وَقَد قامَ السِماطُ لَهُ
إِجلالَ أَروَعَ عالي القَدِّ بَسّامِ
Where is the throne, where the banquet ranks once stood for him,
honoring an awe-inspiring, towering, smiling lord?
أَينَ الجِيادُ تَنَزّى في أَعِنَّتَها
يَطلُبنَ يَوماً قَطوباً وَجهُهُ دامِ
Where are the horses, prancing against their reins,
seeking a grim day whose face streamed blood?
أَينَ الفُيولُ كَأَنَّ المُمتَطينَ لَها
عَلى ذَوائِبِ أَطوادٍ وَأَعلامِ
Where are the elephants, their riders seeming
to sit upon the summits of mountains and landmarks?
أَينَ الوُفودُ عَلى الأَبوابِ مُذكِرَةً
بِالفَرطِ مِن مَجدِ أَخوالٍ وَأَعمامِ
Where are the delegations at the gates, recounting
the surpassing glories of maternal and paternal kin?
أَينَ المَراتِبُ وَالدُنيا عَلى قَدَمٍ
مَوقوفَةٌ بَينَ أَرماحٍ وَأَقلامِ
Where are the ranks? The world itself stood poised
between spears and pens.
مَضى وَلَم يُغنِ ما عَدَّدتُ عَنهُ وَلا
كَسبُ العُلى وَاِجتِنابُ اللَومِ وَالذامِ
He passed away; neither all I have recounted of him availed,
nor seeking praise, nor shunning blame and censure.
وَعادَ أَعظَمُ مَن في جَيشِهِ جُرَةً
وَلَيسَ يَملِكُ إِلّا عَضَّ إِبهامِ
The boldest man in his army returned
with nothing in his power but to bite his thumb.
وَكانَ أَقطَعَ مِن صَمصامَةٍ ظُبَةً
فينا وَأَمضى مَصاءً مِنهُ في الهامِ
Among us he was keener-edged than Samsama’s blade,
and more piercing than it when striking skulls.
لَم يُجرِ يَوماً بِأَطرافِ العِراقِ دَماً
إِلّا وَراعَ دِماءَ القَومِ بِالشامِ
Never did he spill blood at Iraq’s frontiers,
but he made the people’s blood in Syria quake.
وَكانَ إِن حافَ عُدمٌ ثُمَّ عُذتَ بِهِ
مَلَأتَ أَرضَكَ مِن خَيلٍ وَأَنعامِ
When deprivation wronged you, you sought refuge in him;
he filled your land with horses and herds.
يَحنو عَلى رَحِمٍ مَجفُوَّةٍ وَيَرى
قَطعَ الرِقابِ وَلا قَطعاً لِأَرحامِ
He bent tenderly over kin who had been shunned, yet deemed
necks fit to sever—never the bonds of kinship.
تَبكي الرِكابُ وَقَد رُدَّت أَزِمَّتُها
فَالرَكبُ ما بَينَ إِعوالٍ وَإِرزامِ
The riding beasts weep, their reins turned homeward;
the caravan is all loud wailing and low moans.
اليَومَ يَرتاحُ مَن كانَت أَضالِعُهُ
عَلى قَوادِمِ أَحقادٍ وَأَوغامِ
Today, the one whose ribs had harbored
the pinions of grudges and rancors may rest.
يَموتُ قَومٌ فَلا يَأسى لَهُم أَحَدٌ
وَواحِدٌ مَوتُهُ حُزنٌ لِأَقوامِ
Some people die, and no one grieves for them;
one man dies, and whole peoples mourn.
سَقى الحَيا مِنكَ أَوصالاً مُفَرَّقَةً
فيها مَجامِعُ إِجلالٍ وَإِعظامِ
May the raincloud water your scattered limbs,
where all majesty and veneration were gathered.
غَيثانِ ذا جامِدٌ تَخفى مَشائِلُهُ
عَنِ العُيونِ وَذا بادي الذَرى هامي
Two rainclouds: this one motionless, its courses hidden
from sight; that one, its high crest revealed, pours down.
لِلَّهِ دَرُّكِ مِن غَرّاءَ أَحرَزَها
مَوسومَةً قَلبُ ضِرغامٍ لِضِرغامِ
How splendid the radiant deed you achieved,
stamped by a lion’s heart for a lion.
قَد كِدتُ أَعقِلُها لَولا مُحافَظَةً
عَلى يَدٍ سَلَفَت مِنهُ وَإِنعامِ
I nearly held it fast, but for the duty of preserving
a hand he once extended, and a kindness.
أَعادَ عِزَّ أَبي غَضّاً وَخَوَّلَهُ
ما شاءَ مِن بَذلِ إِعزازٍ وَإِكرامِ
He restored my father’s honor, fresh and green, and granted him
whatever he wished of munificence, honor, and esteem.
وَكُنتُ أَجمَمتُهُ لِلعِزِّ أَطلُبُهُ
وَإِنَّما كانَ لِلمَقدورِ إِجمامي
I had kept him in reserve, seeking him for glory,
but it was for Fate that I had spared him.
وَدونَ ما تَشتَهيهِ النَفسُ مَتعَبَةٌ
إِنَّ اللَآلي وَراءَ الأَخضَرِ الطامي
Between the soul and what it desires lies weary toil:
pearls lie beyond the surging green sea.
فَاِذهَب كَما ذَهَبَ البَدرُ اِستَبَدَّ بِهِ
بِرُغمِ أَعيُنِنا جِلبابُ إِظلامِ
Go, then, as the full moon went—overmastered
before our very eyes by darkness’s veil.
فَما لِدارِكَ مِنّا غَيرُ مَقلِيَةٍ
وَلا لِقُربِكَ مِنّا غَيرُ إِلمامِ
Your dwelling shall receive from us nothing but aversion,
and our nearness to you shall be no more than a passing visit.
