لَوعَةٌ في الضُلوعِ مِثلَ جَهَنَّمِ

تَرَكَت هَذِهِ الضُلوعَ رَمادا

An agony in my ribs like hell

An anguish within the ribs akin to Hellfire,

Left these ribs ashes

That has left these ribs as mere ashes.

بِتُّ مَرمى لِلدَهرِ بي يَتَعَلَّم

كَيفَ يُصمي القُلوب وَالئكبادا

I have become a target for fate to learn

I have become a target for Fate, upon which it practices

How it deafens hearts and livers

How to strike down hearts and vitals.

كَيفَ يَنجو فُؤادُهُ أَو يَسلَم

مَن تَمادى بِهِ الأَسى فَتَمادى

How can my heart survive or be safe

How can his heart survive or remain safe,

When sorrow persisted with me so I persisted

He whom sorrow has overwhelmed, and overwhelmed again?

أَنا لَولا الشُعورُ لَم أَتَأَلَّم

لَيتَ الفُؤادَ كانَ جَمادا

If not for feeling I would not have suffered

I, were it not for feeling, would feel no pain;

If only my heart was inanimate

Would that my heart were but stone.

كَيفَ لا أَبكي وَفي العَينِ دُموع

كَيفَ لا ئشكو وَفي القَلبِ صُدوع

How can I not weep and tears are in the eye

How can I not weep when tears fill my eyes?

How can I not complain and there are wounds in the heart

How can I not complain when cracks fissure my heart?

قَلَّ في الناسِ مَن صَبَر

مُخـــــــــــــــــــــــــــتارا

Those who have patience in people are few

Few are those among men who endure,

The choice is to shed tears

Of their own free will.

لَحظَةٌ ثُمَّ صارَ ضِحكي وَجيبا

وَنَشيجا وَالنَومُ صارَ سُهادا

Or blood spilled

A moment passed, and my laughter turned to trembling,

Or a raging

And sobbing, and my sleep turned to wakefulness.

رَبِّ لَمّا خَلَقتَ هَذي الخُطوبا

لِمَ لَم تَخلُقِ الحَشا فولادا

fire

O Lord, when You created these calamities,

A moment then my laughter became wailing

Why did You not create my innards of steel?

كُلَّما قُلتُ قَد وَجَدتُ حَبيبا

طَلَعَ المَوتُ بَينَنا يَتَهادى

And my sleep became tranquility

Whenever I said, "I have found a beloved,"

O Lord, when you created these calamities

Death rose up between us, strutting proudly.

صِرتُ في هَذِهِ الحَياةِ غَريبا

لَيتَ سُهدي الطَويلَ كانَ رُقادا

Why did you not create patience as innate

I have become a stranger in this life;

Whenever I say I found a lover

Would that my long sleeplessness were eternal slumber.

فَتَجَلَّد أَيُّها القَلبُ الجَزوع

أَو تَدَفَّق كُلَّما شاءَ الوَلوع

Death comes between us swaggering

So endure, O anxious heart,

I have become a stranger in this life

Or pour forth whenever passion demands—

عَندَماً أَو دَماً هُدِر

أَو نـــــــــــــــــــــــــــارا

If only my long slumber was eternal rest

As dragon's blood, or blood spilled in waste,

So be resolute O sorrowful heart

Or as fire.

مَن كانَ بَينَ الكَرى وَبَينِيَ صُلُحُ

فَأَرادَ القَضاءَ أَن نَتعادى

Or flow whenever anguish wished

Once, there was a truce between slumber and me,

Whether it is tears

But Fate decreed that we should become foes.

لَم أَكَد أَخلَعُ السَواد وَأَصحو

مِن ذُهولي حَتّى لَبِستُ السَوادا

Or blood shed

Scarcely had I cast off my mourning black and awakened

Or fire kindled

From my stupor, before I donned the black again.

في فُؤادي لَو يَعلَمُ الناسُ جُرحٌ

لا يُلاشى حَتّى يُلاشى الفُؤادا

O grave on the banks of the valley

In my heart—if only people knew—is a wound

Clouds have rained for you from cities

That will not fade until the heart itself fades away.

يا خَليلي هَيهاتَ يَنفَعُ نُصحُ

بَعدَما ضَيَّعَ الحَزينُ الرَشادا

In you I deposited since six my heart

O my friend, advice is of no avail

And despite myself I prolonged being away from you

After the sorrowful one has lost his way.

أَنتَ لا تَستَطيعُ إِحياءَ الصَريع

وَأَنا حَملَ الأَسى لا أَستَطيع

Yet if time brought me back

You cannot revive the fallen dead,

It did not bring me back in spirit to visit

And I cannot bear the weight of this sorrow.

ذا الَّذي صَيَّرَ الكَدَر

إِكـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــدارا

Flowers grew around you

This is what has turned distress

And nights grew thorns around me

Into deeper murky gloom.

يا ضَريحاً عَلى ضِفافِ الوادي

جادَ مِن أَجلِكَ الغَمامُ البِلادا

The withering of the branch in spring

O tomb upon the banks of the valley,

If the trees of the lush garden saw it

For your sake, the clouds have watered the lands.

فيكَ أَودَعتُ مُنذُ سِتٍّ فُؤادي

وَبِرَغمي أَطَلتُ عَنكَ البِعادا

Water in the trees would freeze

In you, some six years past, I buried my heart,

The choice is shedding tears

And against my will, I have stayed long away from you.

غَيرَ أَنّي وَإِن عَدَتني العَوادي

ما عَدَتني بِالروحِ أَن أَرتادا

How can eyes not avoid mine

Yet, even if misfortunes have hindered me,

While my eyelids are rough with wakefulness

They have not hindered my spirit from visiting.

أَنبَتَت حَولَكَ الزُهورُ الغَوادي

وَاللَيالي أَنبَتنَ حَولي القَتادا

And my tears with their crimson color

The morning rains have grown flowers around you,

Are a spring that does not attract visitors

While the nights have grown thorns around me.

وَذُبولُ الغُصنِ في فَصلِ الرَبيع

لَو رَآهُ شَجَرُ الرَوضِ المَريع

And what is in my ribs of fires

The withering of the branch in the spring season—

Became clothes, a seat, and pillows

Had the trees of the fertile garden seen it,

جَمَدَ الماءُ في الشَجَر

مُحـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــتارا

How can the weak endure calamities

The sap would have frozen within the wood

Disease has consumed his body or almost

In sheer bewilderment.

كَيفَ لا يَتَّقي الكَرى أَجفاني

وَجُفوني قَدِ اِستَحَلنَ صِعادا

So if drowsiness covers the eyelids

How could slumber not shun my eyelids,

Remember it is the heart, torn

When my lids have transformed into spear-points?

وَدُموعي بِلَونِها الأُرجُواني

مَنهَلٌَ لَيسَ يُعجِبُ الوُرّادا

Sorrow has compressed it, so it erupted

And my tears, with their crimson hue,

An outpouring

Are a watering hole that pleases no one who drinks.

وَالَّذي في الضُلوعِ مِن نيرانِ

صارَ ثَوبا وَمَقعَدا وَوِسادا

A bird that was singing in the woods

And the fires that burn within my ribs

Today carries shackles

Have become my garment, my seat, and my pillow.

كَيفَ يَقوى عَلى الشَدائِدِ عانِ

أَكَلَ السُقمُ جِسمَهُ أَو كادا

A branch that bent with the breeze

How can a captive endure such hardships,

The hand of fate made it creak

When sickness has consumed his body, or nearly so?

فَإِذا ما غَشِيَ الطَرفَ النَجيع

فَتَذَكَّر أَنَّهُ القَلبُ الصَديع

Time attained what it wishes from me

So if blood clouds the sight,

And refused that I attain what I desire

Remember that it is the shattered heart;

كَظَّهُ الحُزنُ فَاِنفَجَر

اِنفِجـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــارا

And it took what it wanted to take

Grief stifled it, until it burst

And its turns became tyranny

Into fragments.

طائِرٌ كانَ في الرُبى يَتَغَنّى

أَصبَحَ اليَومَ يَحمِلُ الأَصفادا

The sword broke and did not spare the shields

A bird that once sang upon the hills

And the firm wall collapsed before it

Has come this day to bear heavy chains.

غُصنٌ كان وَالصِبا يَتَثَنّى

هَصَرَتهُ يَدُ الرَدى فَاِنآدا

And it showed me lessons

A branch it was, swaying with the breeze of youth;

From misfortunes

The hand of Destruction bent it, and it bowed low.

نالَ مِنّي الزَمانُ ما يَتَمَنّى

وَأَبى أَن أَنالَ مِنهُ مُرادا

Why do these stars refuse dawn

Time has taken from me all that it desires,

Are the planets afraid of thunderstorms

Yet refused to grant me a single wish.

وَتَجَنّى ما شاءَ أَن يَتَجَنّى

وَاِستَبَدَّت صُروفُهُ اِستِبدادا

Did absence undo their composed necklace

It has committed what tyranny it pleased,

Or is it because I see the white as black

And its calamities have reigned with utter despotism.

حَطَّمَ السَيف وَما أَبقى الدُروع

وَتَداعى دونَهُ السورُ المَنيع

Or did they lose as I lost a brother

It shattered the sword and spared not the shields,

So they wore mourning clothes for him

And the impregnable wall crumbled before it,

وَأَراني مِنَ العِبَر

أَطــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــوارا

Why do my eyes not see the full moon

Showing me lessons of fate

When it was shining and guiding

In all their varied forms.

ما لِهَذي النُجومِ تَأبى الشُروقا

أَتَخافُ الكَواكِبُ الأَرصادا

Traveling, strutting in this meadow

Why do these stars refuse to rise?

Did news of the terrible event reach him

Do the planets fear those who watch them?

فَرطَ البَينُ عِقدَها المَنسوقا

أَم لِما بي أَرى البَياضَ سَوادا

Or did he see the death of the moon

Has separation scattered their ordered necklace,

So he vanished

Or does my grief make me see the white as black?

أَم فَقِدنَ كَما فَقَدتُ شَقيقا

فَلَبِسنَ الدُجى عَلَيهِ حِدادا

Fate drew its bow and shot me

Or have they lost a brother, as I have,

My brain did not deviate it nor did the arrow miss

And donned the darkness in mourning for him?

ما لِعَيني لا تُبصِرُ العَيّوقا

وَلَقَد كانَ ساطِعاً وَقّادا

That is how the turns of time

Why does my eye not see the star of Capella,

Silenced a nightingale whose song was chanting

Which once was bright and ablaze,

سافِراً يَختالُ في هَذا الرَقيع

هَل أَتاهُ نَبَءُ الخَطبِ الفَظيع

So today he is in the hand of the jailer

Unveiled and proud in this firmament?

Desiring every hour to be hunted

Has the news of this terrible calamity reached it?

أَم رَأى مَصرَعَ القَمَر

فَتَـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــوارى

Consider me shrouded in burial sheets

Or did it witness the death of the moon

If you refuse to consider the words gone

And vanish from sight?

سَدَّدَ الدَهرُ قَوسَه وَرَماني

لَم تَحُد مُهجَتي وَلا السَهمُ حادا

There is in neither this nor that meadow

Fate aimed its bow and shot at me;

What would console the soul about that corpse

My soul did not flinch, nor did the arrow stray.

هَكَذا أَسكَتَت صُروفُ الزَمانِ

بُلبُلاً كانَ نَوحُهُ إِنشادا

Whose grave the rain made flow

Thus have the turns of Time silenced

A nightingale whose very wailing was song.

فَهوَ اليَومَ في يَدِ السَجّانِ

يَشتَهي كُلَّ ساعَةٍ أَن يُصادا

Today he lies in the hand of the jailer,

Longing every hour to be taken.

فَاِحسِبوني أُدرِجتُ في الأَكفانِ

إِن أَنَفتُم أَن تَحسِبوا القَولَ بادا

So consider me already wrapped in shrouds,

If you disdain to think my words have perished.

لَيسَ في هَذي وَلا تِلكَ الرُبوع

ما يُسَلّي النَفسَ عَن ذاكَ الضَجيع

There is nothing in these lands, nor in those,

To console the soul for that companion of the grave.

قَبرَهُ جادَكَ المَطَر

مِـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــدرارا

O grave, may the rain water you

In abundant showers.