لَعَمرُكَ ما حُزني لِمالٍ فَقَدتَهُ
وَلا خانَ عَهدي في الحَياةِ حَبيبُ
By your life, my sorrow is not for wealth I have lost,
Nor has a beloved betrayed my trust in this life.
وَلَكِنَّني أَبكي وَأَندُبُ زَهرَةً
جَناها وَلوعٌ بِالزُهورِ لَعوبُ
Rather, I weep and lament for a flower,
Plucked by one obsessed with blooms, frivolous in his play.
رَآها يَحُلُّ الفَجرُ عَقدَ جُفونِها
وَيُلقي عَلَيها تِبرَهُ فَيَذوبُ
He saw her as the dawn was untying the knot of her eyelids,
And casting its liquid gold upon her to melt.
وَيَنفُضُ عَن أَعطافِها النورَ لُؤلُؤاً
مِنَ الطَلِّ ما ضُمَّت عَلَيهِ جُيوبُ
Shaking the light from her petals like scattered pearls
Fashioned from dew held close within her folds.
فَعالَجَها حَتّى اِستَوَت في يَمينِهِ
وَعادَ إِلى مَغناهُ وَهوَ طَروبُ
He worked at her until she settled in his right hand,
And returned to his dwelling, flushed with delight.
وَشاءَ فَأَمسَت في الإِناءِ سَجينَةً
لِتَشبَعَ مِنها أَعيُنٌ وَقُلوبُ
He decreed it, so she became a prisoner in a vase,
That eyes and hearts might feast upon her beauty.
ثَوَت بَينَ جُدرانٍ كَقَلبِ مُضيمِها
تَلَمَّسُ فيها مَنفَذاً فَتَخيبُ
She dwells between walls as hard as her captor's heart,
Groping for an exit, but finding only despair.
فَلَيسَت تُحيي الشَمسَ عِندَ شُروقِها
وَلَيسَت تُحيي الشَمسَ حينَ تَغيبُ
She no longer greets the sun at its rising,
Nor does she bid the sun farewell when it sets.
وَمَن عُصِبَت عَيناهُ فَالوَقتُ كُلُّهُ
لَدَيهِ وَإِن لاحَ الصَباحُ غُروبُ
For one whose eyes are bound, all time becomes
A perpetual sunset, even when the morning dawns.
لَها الحُجرَةُ الحَسناءُ في القَصرِ إِنَّما
أَحَبُّ إِلَيها رَوضَةٌ وَكَثيبُ
She has a beautiful chamber within the palace, yet
A meadow and a wild dune are far dearer to her.
وَأَجمَلَ مِن نورِ المَصابيحِ عِندَها
حَباحِبُ تَمضي في الدُجى وَتَؤوبُ
And more beautiful to her than the glow of lamps,
Are fireflies drifting to and fro in the darkness.
وَمِن فَتَياتِ القَصرِ يَرقُصنَ حَولَها
عَلى نَغَماتٍ كُلُّهُنَّ عَجيبُ
And better than the palace maidens dancing around her
Swaying to melodies that are all wondrous,
تُراقِصُ أَغصانُ الحَديقَةِ بِكرَةً
وَلِلريحِ فيها جَيئَةٌ وَذهوبُ
Is the dance of garden branches in the early morn,
With the wind weaving back and forth through them.
وَأَجمَلَ مِنهُنَّ الفَراشاتُ في الضُحى
لَها كَالأَماني سِكنَةٌ وَوُثوبُ
And lovelier than the maidens are butterflies in the forenoon,
Resting and fluttering like fleeting hopes.
وَأَبهى مِنَ الديباجِ وَالخَزِّ عِندَها
فَراشٌ مِنَ العُشبِ الخَضيلِ رَطيبُ
And more splendid to her than brocade and silk
Is a bed of lush, dew-dampened grass.
وَأَحلى مِنَ السَقفِ المُزَخرَفِ بِالدُمى
فَضاءٌ تَشِعُّ الشُهبُ فيهِ رَحيبُ
And sweeter than a ceiling adorned with painted figures
Is the vast open space where shooting stars blaze.
تَحِنُّ إِلى مَرأى الغَديرِ وَصَوتِهِ
وَتَحرُمُ مِنهُ وَالغَديرُ قَريبُ
She yearns for the sight and sound of the brook,
Deprived of it, though the brook flows nearby.
وَلَيسَ لَها لِلبُؤسِ في نَسَمِ الرُبى
نَصيبٌ وَلَم يَسكُن لَهُنَّ هُبوبُ
In her misery, she has no share of the hills' breeze,
Even though their blowing has not ceased.
إِذا سُقِيَت زادَت ذُبولاً كَأَنَّما
يَرُشُّ عَلَيها في المِياهِ لَهيبُ
When watered, she only withers further, as if
Flame were being sprinkled upon her within the water.
وَكانَت قَليلُ الطَلِّ يُنعِشُ روحَها
وَكانَت بِمَيسورِ الشُعاعِ تَطيبُ
Yet once, the scantiest dew would revive her soul,
And the faintest ray of light would heal her.
بِها مِن أُنوفِ الناشِقينَ تَوَعُّكٌ
وَمِن نَظَراتِ الفاسِقينَ نُدوبُ
She sickens from the noses of those who inhale her scent,
And bears scars from the lecherous gazes cast upon her.
تَمَشّى الضَنى فيها وَأَيارُ في الحِمى
وَجَفَّت وَسِربالُ الرَبيعِ قَشيبُ
Wasting away creeps through her, though it is May in the wild,
She has dried up while the robe of Spring is fresh and new.
فَفيها كَمَقطوعِ الوَريدَينِ صُفرَةٌ
وَفيها كَمِصباحِ البَخيلِ شُحوبُ
She bears the pallor of one whose veins are severed,
And the dimness of a miser's flickering lamp.
أَيا زَهرَةَ الوادي الكَئيبَةَ إِنَّني
حَزينٌ لِما صِرتِ إِلَيهِ كَئيبُ
O sorrowful flower of the valley, I am indeed
Grieved and depressed by what you have become.
وَأَكثَرَ خَوفي أَن تَظُنّي بَني الوَرى
سَواءً وَهُم مِثلُ النَباتِ ضُروبُ
My greatest fear is that you deem all mankind
To be the same, when they are of different kinds, like plants.
وَأَعظَمَ حُزني أَنَّ خَطبَكِ بَعدَهُ
مَصائِبُ شَتّى لَم تَقَع وَخُطوبُ
And my deepest sorrow is that your calamity will be followed
By various disasters and trials yet to fall.
سَيَطرَحُكِ الإِنسانُ خارِجَ دارِهِ
إِذا لَم يَكُن فيكِ العَشِيَّةَ طيبُ
Man will cast you out of his home,
When, by evening, no fragrance remains in you.
فَتُمسينَ لِلأَقذارِ فيكِ مَلاعِبٌ
وَفي صَفحَتَيكِ لِلنِعالِ ضُروبُ
You will become a playground for filth,
And upon your face, the soles of shoes will strike.
إِسارُكِ يا أُختَ الرَياحينِ مُفجَعٌ
وَمَوتُكِ يا بِنتَ الرَبيعِ رَهيبُ
Your captivity, O sister of the basil, is a tragedy,
And your death, O daughter of Spring, is dreadful.
وَلَكِنَّها الدُنيا وَلَكِنَّهُ القَضا
وَهَذا لَعَمري مِثلَ تِلكَ غَريبُ
But such is the world, and such is Fate;
And this, by my life, is as strange as that.
فَكَم شَقِيَت في ذي الحَياةِ فَضائِلٌ
وَكَم نَعِمَت في ذي الحَياةِ عُيوبُ
For how often do virtues suffer in this life,
While vices enjoy comfort and ease?
وَكَم شِيَمٍ حَسناءَ عاشَت كَأَنَّها
مَساوِئٌ يُخشى شَرُّها وَذُنوبُ
And how many noble traits have lived as though they were
Evils to be feared, and sins to be shunned.
