أَأَبكاكَ داعٍ في الصَباحِ سَميعُ
وَطَيفٌ سَرى مِن نَهرَوانَ يَريعُ
Did a caller weeping in the morn, listening,
And a phantom gliding from Nahrawan set you thinking,
وَقائِلَةٍ إِنَّ العِيالَ مُعَوِّلٌ
عَلَيكَ فَلا تَقعُد وَأَنتَ مُضيعُ
And a woman saying ‘My family looks to your support,
So sit not there while your means are shrinking!’
فَقُلتُ لَها كُفّي سَيَكفيكِ وَافِدٌ
أَشَمُّ لِأَبوابِ المُلوكِ قُروعُ
I said to her, ‘Enough! A help will come to you.
I scent the perfume through the doors of kings.’
وَما أَنا راضٍ بِالهَوانِ إِذا اِحتَبى
عَلى الذُلِّ في دارِ الهَوانِ رَتوعُ
When baseness is met with welcoming smiles,
The tribe of the abased are fawning things.
إِذا الأَمرُ لَم يُقبِل عَلَيَّ بِوَجهِهِ
فَلي مَسلَكٌ بِاليَعمُلاتِ وَسيعُ
If my fortune show me no open face,
Byway and highway are still my field.
وَزُرتُ هُماماً يُصبِحُ الناسُ حَولَهُ
عُكوفاً عَلَيهِم ذِلَّةٌ وَخُضوعُ
Once I visited a nobleman, at dawn
Finding a circle of people expectant, humbly kneeled,
وَلَمّا اِلتَقَينا سابَقَ الحَمدَ جودُهُ
فَأَجدى وَجودُ الطالِبينَ سَريعُ
And when we met, his open-handedness outran
My praise – the hands of askers spread wide reveal.
وَأَملاكُ صِدقٍ أَلبَسَتني طِرازَهُم
قَصَائِدُ ما لي غَيرُهُنَّ شَفيعُ
And sincere men endowed me with their quality,
Poems – I have no intercessor but these!
وَغَيثٌ إِذا ما لاحَ أَومَضَ بَرقُهُ
كَما أَومَضَت تَحتَ الرِداءِ خَريعُ
A shower, when its lightning flash becomes visible,
As the young lamb’s coat showed beneath his knees.
إِذا حاجةٌ أَلقَت عَلَيَّ بَعاعَها
رَكِبتُ وَحَسبي مُنصَلٌ وَقَطيعُ
If need casts down her rope, I mount my steed
Whose only gear’s a halter of plaited thong.
يُرِدنَ اِمرأً قَد شَذَّبَ الحَمدُ مالَهُ
أَغَرَّ طَويلَ الباعِ حينَ يَبوعُ
A man whom praise has made wealthy rides back
From market, pride lengthening the camel-train along.
وَما ضاعَ مالٌ أَورَثَ الحَمدَ أَهلَهُ
وَلَكِنَّ أَموالَ البَخيلِ تَضيعُ
No riches lost have made men losers
But only riches which the mean man kept close-fong.
عَلى خَشَباتِ المُلكِ مِنكَ مَهابَةٌ
وَفي الدِرعِ عَبلُ الساعِدَينِ قَروعُ
On the planks of rule awe of you remains
And linked mail shirts over the forearms jutting long.
يَشُقُّ الوَغى عَن وَجهِهِ صِدقُ نَجدَةٍ
وَأَبيَضُ مِن ماءِ الحَديدِ وَقيعُ
Truth from his face splits the battle-din apart
And whiter shows than iron beneath the whetstone’s song.
إِذا خَزَنَ المالَ البَخيلُ فَإِنَّما
خَزائِنُهُ خَطِّيَّةٌ وَدُروعُ
If the mean man hoards money, his hoards
Are sin and coats of mail about him throng.
وَبيضٌ بِها مِسكٌ مَكانَ بَنانِهِ
وَلَكِنَّها ريحُ الدِماءِ تَضوعُ
It holds musk now, instead of vipers,
Yet is but the scent of blood outpoured headlong.
تَروحُ بَأَرزاقٍ وَتغدو بَغارَةٍ
فَأَنتَ ذُعافٌ مَرَّةً وَرَبيعُ
It goes abroad with blessings and returns with raids
So you alternate between new grass and decayed.
