أَما آنَ لِلدَمعِ أَن يَستَجِم
وَلا لِلبَلابِلِ أَن لا تُلِم
The time has come for tears to dry up,
And for hearts to cease blaming.
فَتَلهو عَزائِمُنا بِالخُطوبِ
وَتَهزَأُ أَجفانُنا بِالحُلُم
Our resolves are mocked by misfortunes,
And our eyelids toyed with by dreams.
فَإِنّا بَنو الدَهرِ ما نَستَفي
قُ مِن نَشوَةِ الهَمِّ حَتّى نُهَم
We, children of fate, cannot avoid
The intoxication of sorrow until overwhelmed,
وَلا نَصحَبُ اللَيلَ حَتّى نَخالُ
كَواكِبَهُ في الفَيافي بُهُم
Nor can we, throughout the night,
Fail to wander lost among its stars.
وَلا بُدَّ مِن زَلَّةٍ لِلفَتى
تُعَرِّفُهُ كَيفَ قَدرُ النِعَم
A misstep is inevitable for the gallant man
To show him the worth of bounty.
فَحُسنُ العُلى بَعدَ حالِ الخُضوعِ
وَطيبُ الغِنى بَعدَ حالِ العَدَم
Beauty abides after humiliation
And goodness after destitution.
أَأَرجو المَعالي بِغَيرِ الطِلابِ
وَمِن أَينَ يَحلُمُ مَن لَم يَنَم
Shall I seek lofty goals without effort?
And from where does one who never sleeps dream?
إِذا صالَ بِالجَهلِ قَلبُ الجَهو
لِ فَاِعذِر فَما كُلُّ جَهلٍ لَمَم
When the hearts of the ignorant are tainted with vileness,
Forgive them, for not all vileness is a vice.
رَأى الدَهرَ يَعصِفُ بِالفاضِلينَ
فَحَبَّ مِنَ النَقضِ أَن يَغتَنِم
Seeing fate buffeting the virtuous,
He loved exploitation when the chance came up.
سَتَقبُرُني الطَيرُ كَيلا أَكونَ
سَواءً وَأَمواتَهُ في الرَجَم
The birds will bury me so I won’t be
Like their dead left out in the open.
ذَمَّ رِجالاً بِتَركِ المَديحِ
وَبَعضُ السُكوتِ عَنِ المَدحِ ذَم
He blamed some men for not praising
While silence on praise is also blameworthy.
صِلِ اليَأسَ وَاِنهَض بِعِبءِ الخُطوبِ
فَما يُثقِلُ الظَهرَ إِلّا الهَرَم
Endure despair and carry the burden of adversity
For only old age weighs down the back.
وَلا تَهجُرِ العَزمَ عِندَ المَشيبِ
فَلَيسَ عَجيباً بِهَمٍّ يَهُم
Do not neglect determination in old age,
For it is no wonder to be troubled then.
وَمِنِّيَ في ثَوبِ هَذا الزَما
نِ عَضبٌ إِذا ما سَطا أَو عَزَم
In me is a coat of mail for this time
Of anger when transgressed or provoked.
وَما حِليَةُ البيضِ صَوغُ اللُجَينِ
وَلَكِن حِلاها دِماءُ القِمَم
And it’s not the white swords’ decoration
Rather the blood spilled over their tips.
أَمُرخي ذُؤابَةِ ذاكَ الهَجيرِ
عَلى مَكِبَي مَجهَلٍ أَو عَلَم
Should I hang the leather scabbard
On an ignorant fool’s or scholar’s shoulder?
أَرِحنا نُرِح وَتَراتِ المَطِيِّ
فَإِنَّ بِها ما بِنا مِن أَلَم
Let us relax the straps of our horses
For they hurt no less than we do.
وَيا أَهيَفاً رَمَقَتهُ العُيونُ
وَرَفَّت عَلَيهِ قُلوبُ الأُمَم
And O fawn glimpsed by all eyes
Whose heart revived forgotten homelands.
تَضَرَّمَ خَدّاهُ حَتّى عَجِبتُ
لِعارِضِهِ كَيفَ لَم يَضطَرِم
He frowned until in wonderment I asked
Why his cheek didn’t catch fire.
لَئِن لَم تَجِد طائِعاً بِالنَوالِ
لَقَد جادَ عَنكَ الخَيالُ المُلِم
If you do not find one to give you comfort
Then imagination has been generous to you.
وَمِثلِكِ ظالِمَةِ المُقلَتَينِ
تَلاقى الجَمالُ عَلَيها وَتَم
The likes of you who tyrannizes the two worlds
Where beauty and perfection converge.
لَها في الحَشا حافِزٌ كُلَّما
جَرى الدَمعُ دَلَّ عَلَيهِ وَنَم
In yearning she has a goad—whenever
A teardrop flows it points the way to her abode.
أَقولُ لَها وَالقَنا شُرَّعٌ
وَيُرغَمُ مِن قَومِها مَن رُغِم
I say to her while the goblets are passed around
And her tribe is forced to drink.
لَنا دونَ خِدرِكِ نَجوى الزَفيرِ
وَمَجرى الدُموعِ وَشَكوى الأَلَم
Without your tent we have the sigh’s whispers,
The course of tears, the moan of agony.
وَإِلّا فَقَرعُ صُدورِ القَنا
وَوَقعُ الظُبى وَصَليلُ اللُجُم
Otherwise chests will beat the goblets
And twigs snap and weapons clash.
وَنُقبِلُها كَذِئابِ الرَدا
هِ تَمري عُلالَتَهُنَّ الجُذُم
And we will kiss her like starved wolves
Gnawing their famished bones.
دُفِعنَ عَلى غَفَلاتِ الظُنو
نِ يَمضَغنَ مَضغَ العَليقِ الحَكَم
Deceived by their fleeting passions
They chew bitter leaves of misery,
إِلى أَن تُلَطِّمَهُنَّ النِسا
ءُ بِالخُمرِ دونَ طَريقِ الحَرَم
Until loose women strike them down
With wine, not along the holy route.
أَجِب أَيُّها الرَبعُ تَسآلَنا
فَلَستَ عَلى بُعدِهِم مُتَّهَم
Answer, O quarter of night we asked you
For you are not accused of being far.
فَكَيفَ وَأَنتَ مَريضُ الطُلولِ
ضَجيعُ البَلا وَنَجِيُّ السَقَم
But how, when you are sick with longing,
Laid low, salvaging the sick?
كَأَنَّكَ لَم يَعتَنِقكَ النَسيمُ
وَلا مالَ نَحوَكَ قَطرٌ بِفَم
As if no breeze has embraced you
No dewdrop leaned towards your mouth,
وَلا نَشَرَت فيكَ تِلكَ الرِياحُ
غَدائِرَ مِن مُزنَةٍ أَو جُمَم
As if those winds never dispersed in you
Curls from a waving sleeve or cloudburst.
تَنَثَّرَ فيكَ سَحابُ الحَيا
فَطَوَّقَ جيدَكَ لَمّا اِنتَظَم
The clouds of life burst over you
Garlanding your neck when gathered.
وَدَرَّت عَلَيكَ ثُدِيُّ الغَمامِ
كَأَنَّ رُباكَ سِقابُ الدِيَم
The rain cloud’s udder poured on you
As if your meadows were pavilions of blood.
ثَرىً يَرمُقُ الغَيثَ عَن مُقلَةٍ
بِها رَمَدٌ مِن رَمادِ الحُمَم
A plot of land eyes the rain through a slit
Where dust from ancient fires lingers.
وَمِن أَينَ تَعرِفُكَ اليَعمَلا
تُ وَالدَمعُ في خَدِّها مُزدَحِم
And how would the bare wilderness recognize you
With tears brimming in its eyes?
وَلَكِن أَحَسَّت بِأَعطانِها
وَأَوطانِها في اللَيالي القُدُم
But it sensed its grazing lands
And home from bygone days.
أَحِنُّ إِلَيكَ وَتَأبى المَطِيُّ
بِخَدِّ تُرابِكَ أَن يَلتَطِم
I yearn for you though my horse refuses
To press his cheek into your soil.
وَخَرقٍ تَدافَعَهُ المُقرَبا
تُ خَوفاً وَتَنفُرُ مِنهُ الرُسُم
And I penetrated a place so forbidden
Distant relatives avoid it out of fear.
تَجَلَّلتُ فيهِ رِداءَ الظَلامِ
وَسِرتُ وَحاشِيَتاهُ الهِمَم
I cloaked myself in the night’s gown
And traveled on with worries as my entourage.
عَلى كُلِّ خَطّارَةٍ لَم تَزَل
تُجاذِبُنا السَيرَ حَتّى اِنفَصَم
With every perilous route we took
Our journey stretched taut but never snapped.
خَرَقنا مَعَ الشَمسِ تِلكَ الفَلاةِ
وَجُبنا مَعَ اللَيلِ طِلكَ الأَكَم
We crossed the wasteland under sunlight
And at night reached its depths.
صَلينا بِحَمرَةِ ذاكَ الهَجيرِ
وَعُدنا بِفَحمَةِ هَذي العُتُم
We prayed at the foot of the old enclosure
And returned in the embers’ darkness.
كَأَنَّ مَناسِمَها في السُرى
تَلاعَبُ بَينَ الحَصى بِالزَلَم
As if its milestones in the trip
Trifle with pebbles and slip.
وَمالَ النَهارُ بِأَخفافِها
إِلى أَدعَجٍ بِالدُجى مُدلَهِمّ
And daylight leaned on its soft tread
Towards a gloom thick with shadows.
زَحَمنَ بِنا اللَيلَ في ثَوبِهِ
فَكادَت مَناكِبُهُ تَنحَطِم
The night crammed us in its gown,
Nearly crushing its shoulders.
نُعانِقُ بيضاً كَأَنَّ الصَدا
بِأَطرافِها شَحبَةٌ أَو غَمَم
White dawns we embrace could be
Dusk’s edges—wan, gloomy.
وَقَد لَمَعَت مِن حَواشي الغُمودِ
كَما نَصَلَت أَغُلٌ مِن غَنَم
Their borders shone like the gleam
Of a blade that stripped the wool from sheep.
وَقُلِّصَ عَنّا قَميصُ الظَلامِ
فَكانَ بِأَنفِ الدَياجي شَمَم
The shirt of darkness was peeled off us
So its edge reached our nostrils.
وَيَومٍ يَرِفُّ عَلَيهِ الرَدى
بِأَجنِحَةٍ المُصَلَتاتِ الخُذُم
And a day the ruins poured over
With wings like lugubrious owls.
مَتى اِنسَلَّ لَحظُ ذُكاءٍ بِهِ
فَأَجفانُهُ قادِماتُ الرَخَم
When a bright look slipped into his eyes
Their lids were crumbly hillsides.
عَلَيَّ طِعانٌ يَرُدُّ الجَوا
دَ بِالدَمِ أَلمى مَكانَ الرَثَم
I suffer taunts driving away
Generosity with blood fouler than sewage.
وَأَيدٍ تُجيلُ قِداحَ الرِماحِ
وَباعُ المُعَرِّدِ عَنها بَرَم
And hands that stir the lances’ tips
And push back the flaring shields.
قُلوبٌ كَأُسدِ الشَرى الضارِياتِ
وَأَحشاؤُهُم دونَها كَالأَجَم
Hearts like lionesses in heat
But their entrails are less than mule’s.
فَما تَرشُفُ الماءَ إِلّا اِعتِلالاً
وَلا تَجرَعُ الماءَ إِلّا قَرَم
When fighting they do not sip the water
Save feebly, or gulp it down unquenched.
إِذا حَسَروا قالَ سَيفُ الحِمامِ
وَأَعطافُهُ عَلَقاً تَنسَجِم
When swords of battle flashed, they said,
Its twisting blades are interlocked.
أَلِلطَعنِ تُهتَكُ هَذي النُحورُ
وَلِلضَربِ تُكشَفُ هَذي القِمَم
Are these throats made for stabbing
And are these towering peaks for striking down?
إِذا صَحِبوا الدَمَ في الباتِراتِ
فَلا صَحِبوا ماءَهُم في الأَدَم
If they stay with blood amidst the slick carnage
Then they do not stay long with their water skins.
مَضوا ما طَوى العَذلُ مِن جودِهِم
وَلا أَتبَعوا المالَ عَضَّ النَدَم
They surpass what partiality hides of its generosity
Nor attend to money that leads to regret.
وَسالَت لِمَجدِهِمُ غُرَّةٌ
تَكادُ تَكونُ حِجالَ القَدَم
For their glory a blush runs
Almost becoming their mantle’s dust.
قَد اِستَحيَتِ السُمرُ مِن طَعنِهِم
فَكادَت لِإِفراطِهِ تَحتَشِم
Their thrust made the brown falcons blush
Almost ashamed of its excess.
هُوَ الطَعنُ يَفتَرُّ مِنهُ الجَوادُ
وَلَو كانَ ذا مَرَحٍ لَاِبتَسَم
It’s the thrust the steed recoils from
Even if he were gently trotting would still shy.
رِدي أَحمَرَ الماءِ قُبَّ الجِيادِ
فَأَبيَضُ غُدرانِهِ لِلنَعَم
Lead the horses to drink the red water
For the treachery of their cheeks is for the bounty.
غِناءُ ظُبانا عَويلُ النِساءِ
وَقَرعُ قَنانا لِطامُ اللِمَم
Our women’s wailing is the antelopes’ singing
The beating of our goblets is the grinding of swords.
أَليسَ أَبونا أَعَزَّ الوَرى
جَناباً وَأَكرَمَ خالاً وَعَمّ
Is not our father the greatest sanctuary
A protector, and most generous uncle and support?
كَأَنَّكَ تَلقى بِهِ السَمهَريَّ
إِذا مُدَّ يَومَ وَغىً أَو أَتَم
It is as if you see him as Sama Hawi
When, on an ominous day, death is coveted.
يَقُدُّ إِذا ما نَبا العاجِزونَ
وَضَربُ الظُبى غَيرُ ضَربِ القُدُم
He leads when the helpless wander
And the beating of drums is unlike that of old.
أَسِرَّةُ كَفّيهِ عُمرُ الزَمانِ
جَداوِلُ ماءِ الرَدى وَالكَرَم
The palm of his hand determines fate
Torrents of favor and nobility.
فَإِمّا تَفيضُ بِغَمرِ النَوالِ
عَلى المُعتَفينَ وَإِمّا بِدَم
Either pouring from the clouds of his bounty
Onto those pleading, or with blood.
تَعَوَّذُ مِن خَوفِهِ العاصِفاتُ
إِذا عَصَفَت في حِماهُ الأَشَمّ
When he is enraged even storms take refuge
When they blow within his fervor.
وَكانَ إِذا رامَ خَدعَ العُلى
تَقَنَّصَها وَالعَوالي خُطُم
When he sought the heights he cunningly entrapped them
While summits are but stupid.
يَقي كُلَّ شَيءٍ فَلَو يَستَطي
عُ غَدا الخُدودِ الأَعادي لُثُم
He wards off all things—if only he could
Allow his enemies’ cheeks to be defiled.
وَيَرضى إِذا قيلَ يا اِبنَ النِجادِ
وَيَدعو الجِيادَ بَناتِ الحُزُم
He accepts being named Son of The Open Handed
And calls his horses the Firmly Bound.
فَتىً لَو أَذَمَّ عَلى صُبحِهِ
لَما جازَ في الضَوءِ أَمرُ الظُلَم
A stalwart—had he lived to see his old age
The rule of darkness would not have prevailed.
وَأَهيَفُ إِن زَعزَعَتهُ البَنا
نُ أَمطَرَ في الطَرسِ لَيلاً أَحَمّ
And, though tottering walls threaten him, the fawn rains
Amidst lightning bolts on an inky night.
يَشيبُ إِذا حَذَّفَتهُ المُدى
وَيَخضِبُ لِمَّتَهُ لا هَرَم
His temples turn white when fate casts him aslant,
And crimson fighting withholds old age.
وَتَنطِفُ عَن فَمِهِ ريقَةٌ
سُوَيداءُ تَقتُلُ مِن غَيرِ سُمّ
From his mouth drips a deathly spittle
That kills without poison.
لَهُ شَفَتانِ فَلَو كانَتا
لِساناً لَما بانَ عَنهُ الكَلِم
He has two lips—had they been
A tongue, words would not have flowed from them.
وَرَبَّتَما ظَنَّها الخائِفونَ
لِسانَ فَمِ الأَرقَمِ اِبنِ الرَقَم
The alarmed sometimes thought them
The tongue of Al-Raqm son of Raqm.
لَهُ سِبتَةٌ بَينَ لَهبَي صَفاً
يَقولونَ نامَ وَلَمّا يَنَم
He has canine teeth amidst blazing embers
They say he sleeps though he never slumbers.
وَأَنتِ اِبنَةُ الفِكرِ قابَلتِنا
بِعِقدٍ لِجيدِ العُلى مُنتَظِم
You, daughter of thought, received us
With a necklace for the glorious ones’ forelock.
تَروقينَ أَسماعَنا في النَشيدِ
كَأَنَّكِ مِن كُلِّ لَفظٍ نَغَم
You soothe our hearing with song
As if each word were a melody.
