عَتَبتُ الزمانَ عَسَى يُعْتِبُ
فتَجْمعُنا الدارُ أو تَقرُب
I reproached time, perhaps it would reproach me,
So that our house may reunite us or bring us close,
عسى تنقِضى لوعةٌ في الفؤا
د أو تنطفِى جَمْرة تَلْهَب
Perhaps a grief in the heart may cease,
Or a burning coal may be extinguished,
وأَفْرَق من غَمَرات الهموم
كما يُنْتَضَى الصَّارم المِقْضَب
And I may be rid of the clouds of worries,
As a sharpened sword is unsheathed.
فأركب للّهوِ خيلَ الشباب
وحَوْلىَ من جُنْده مَوكِب
So I may ride the steeds of youth for amusement,
With its army marching around me,
وأُعطِى أَكُفَّ الهوى مِقْوَدِى
وأتْبَعُه حيثُما يذهب
And I may give the palms of passion the reins,
And follow it wherever it goes,
ولى بالكنيسةِ لا بالكِناسِ
رَشاً هابَه الضَّيْغَمُ الأَغْلَب
And to me, the church is not for seclusion,
Sprinkled with a monastery the most crowded.
يُحكِّم في الأُسْدِ أَلحاظَه
وتَلْقاهُ من راهبٍ يَرْهَب
It makes its glances the judge over lions,
And meets in it a monk who fears,
أفاض القَباطِى على مثِلها
ولاقَى به المُذْهَبَ المُذْهَب
The Copt lavished upon its like,
And met in it the most dissolving doctrine,
بوجهٍ أَتى بفنونِ الربيعِ
ورَيّاه تصحيفُ ما يُقْلَبُ
With a face that came with the arts of spring,
And showed it the distortion of what turns,
به الوردُ والآس والأُقْحُوان
ولكنَّ ناطورَه عَقْرَب
With it the roses and myrtles and ponds,
But its nature is a scorpion.
وأسودُ كالأسودِ المستطيل
يَلْدَغُ ذاك وذا يَلْسَب
As black as the outstretched black,
That stings here and bites there,
إذا جال سمُّهُما في الفؤاد
فدِرْ ياقُه البارد الأَشْنَب
If their poison spreads in the heart,
Then wear its cold shirt.
تُرنِّحُ ريحُ الصَّبا قَدَّه
كغصنٍ بريح الصَّبا يَلْعب
The breeze of morning waves its branches,
Like a branch playing with the morning breeze,
فتَجْذِب ذاك الخَصيب الجَديب
بعنفٍ وما فيه ما تجْذِب
So it pulls that fertile, beautiful one,
Violently, and it has none that it pulls.
عجبتُ لرقة زُنّارِه
ودقةُ ما ضَمَّه أَعْجَبُ
I wondered at the softness of its belt,
And the delicacy of what it concealed surprised me.