تِلكَ السُنونُ الغارِباتُ وَرائي
سِفرٌ كَتَبتُ حُروفَهُ بِدِمائي
Those years that have set behind me / Are a book whose letters I wrote with my blood.
I did not live them merely to count them; rather, I lived / So that my own features might appear within theirs.
ما عِشتُها لِأَعُدَّها بَل عِشتُها
لِتَبينَ في سيمائِها سيمائي
Had I been content simply to count the days, / My life and the life of a silent rock would be the same.
And a shore holding nothing but mute sands / Would have surpassed me on the day of boasting.
سِيّانَ لَو أَنّي قَنِعتُ بِعَدِّها
عُمري وَعُمرُ الصَخرَةِ الصَمّاءِ
High ideals loomed within their horizons, / So I sought them as a path to glory.
With a love for goodness flowing through my veins, / And a care for weakness and the weak.
وَلَبَذَّني يَومَ التَفاخُرِ شاطِئٌ
ما فيهِ غَيرُ رِمالِهِ الخَرساءِ
And a devotion to truth wherever I found it, / And to beauty in living beings and inanimate things.
So that a tale might be told after I am gone of a poet / With whom the world danced on wings of light.
لاحَت لِيَ العَلياءُ في آفاقِها
فَأَرَدتُها دَرباً إِلى العَلياءِ
He scattered fragrances along the paths of his life, / And flowed like love through scents and morning dew.
He emerged from the miser's heart as generosity, / And as courage in times of peace and war.
وَمَحَبَّةً لِلخَيرِ تَسري في دَمي
وَرِعايَةً لِلضَعفِ وَالضُعَفاءِ
He walked toward the oppressed as a glimmer of mercy, / And struck against darkness as a whip of tribulation.
So the world that buried my ancestors honors me, / And the world that brings forth my descendants welcomes me with a smile.
وَعِبادَةً لِلحَقِّ أَينَ وَجَدتُهُ
وَالحُسنِ في الأَحياءِ وَالأَشياءِ
Those years, with their misery and their bliss, / Have bent my frame and drained my vitality.
Where is the youth in which I wrapped my dreams? / Youth is no longer a cloak for me to wear.
لِتَدورَ بَعدي قِصَّةٌ عَن شاعِرٍ
رَقَصَت بِهِ الدُنيا جَناحَ ضِياءِ
My soul feels as though its burdens, / Given a choice, have chosen to rest upon my limbs.
How many visions have risen along its flanks, / Like a caravan of lights and fragrances.
نَشَرَ الطُيوبَ عَلى دُروبِ حَياتِهِ
وَسَرى هَوىً في الطيبِ وَالأَنداءِ
After a struggle, I turned my gaze upon them, / Only for my eyes to stumble upon scattered remains.
Oh, the victims! No eyelid blinks at their death, / Nor are they counted among the martyrs.
وَأَطَلَّ مِن قَلبِ البَخيلِ سَماحَةً
وَشَجاعَةً في السِلمِ وَالهَيجاءِ
I have bid farewell to the pleasures of fantasy and cast them aside, / Content to suffer along with the wise.
So I realized, like them, that I am the author of my misery, / And that I am the creator of my own bliss.
وَمَشى إِلى المَظلومِ بارِقُ رَحمَةٍ
وَهَوى عَلى الظَلامِ سَوطَ بَلاءِ
After all I have endured, I see myself / Like a ship emerging from the storm.
And like a traveler reaching the city / After losing the path and wandering the desert.
فَتُعِزُّ دُنيا قَد طَوَت آبائي
وَتَهِشُّ دُنيا أَطلَعَت أَبنائي
Thanks be to my friends, for without their love, / I would never have drawn near to the world of radiance.
With them, I steered my ship through the gales, / And with them, I planted my banner upon the stars.
تِلكَ السُنونُ بِبُؤسِها وَنَعيمِها
مالَت بِعودي وَاِنطَوَت بِرِوائي
Thanks be to my enemies, for without their mischief, / I would not have known they were merely rabble.
Sorrow gnawed at their hearts when I laughed; / For the wedding feast of love is the funeral of hate.
أَينَ الشَبابُ أَلُفُّ أَحلامي بِهِ
لَيسَ الشَبابُ الآنَ لي بِرِداءِ
My sin against the envious is that I surpassed them, / And left them stumbling in my wake.
And my greatest offense to them is that they sat idle / Upon the dust, while I did not.
نَفسي تَحُسُّ كَأَنَّما أَثقالُها
قَد خُيِّرَت فَتَخَيَّرَت أَعضائي
The forgiveness granted by chivalry and manhood is simply this: / I erred when I considered them my peers.
Thanks to every soul with whom I mingled my own, / Making his loyalty and mine sweet and pure.
كَم مِن رُؤىً طَلَعَت عَلى جَنَباتِها
رَكباً مِنَ الأَضواءِ وَالأَشذاءِ
Let him who will dream of the heavens; as for me, / I have found my heaven within the human heart.
Beauty is not beauty in and of itself; / Beauty exists only when there is one to behold it.
قَلَّبتُ فيها بَعدَ لَأيٍ ناظِري
فَتَعَثَّرَت عَينايَ بِالأَشلاءِ
What is the universe and all it holds, without Adam, / But dust suspended within dust?
And the father of mankind did not manifest his existence / Or complete his purpose without Eve.
يا لِلضَحايا لا يَرِفُّ لِمَوتِها
جَفنٌ وَلا تُحصى مَعَ الشُهَداءِ
When I poured the wine, I poured it / For people, not for the radiant stars.
The stars do not drink the wine, / Even if it is pressed from the very souls of poets.
وَدَّعتُ لَذّاتِ الخَيالِ وَعُفتُها
وَرَضيتُ أَن أَشقى مَعَ الحُكَماءِ
Those years, the barren and the fertile alike, / Are sweet to me; such is the will of my loyalty.
For the harsh night of my life / Is, in the span of time, equal to the gentle night.
فَعَرَفتُ مِثلَهُمُ بِأَنّي موجِدٌ
بُؤسي وَأَنّي خالِقٌ نُعَماءِ
O you who say I have wronged myself, hold your tongue; / Leave me be, for you do not bear my burdens.
Life gives the Spirit as part of its bounty, / And I, the fruit of that Spirit, give my all.
إِنّي أُراني بَعدَ ما كابَدتُهُ
كَالفُلكِ خارِجَةً مِنَ الأَنواءِ
What is a lifetime but a vessel? And I / Have filled my vessel with what is precious and pure.
If I remain, my remaining is for beauty, / And if I perish, I perish within beauty.
وَكَسائِحٍ بَلَغَ المَدينَةَ بَعدَما
ضَلَّ الطَريقَ وَتاهَ في البَيداءِ
By God, how sweet and radiant is my night! / In the book of life, it is the royal seal.
O friends, I shall never forget your beautiful deeds / Until my soul departs from my body.
شُكراً لِأَصحابي فَلَولا حُبُّهُم
لَم أَقتَرِب مِن عالَمِ اللَألاءِ
And my eye says, "I have lost my light," / And my heart says, "I have lost my hope."
بِهِمِ اِقتَحَمتُ العاصِفاتِ بِمَركَبي
وَبِهِم عَقَدتُ عَلى النُجومِ لِوائي
شُكراً لِأَعدائي فَلَولا عَيثُهُم
لَم أَدرِ أَنَّهُموا مِنَ الغَوغاءِ
نَهَشَ الأَسى لَمّا ضَحِكتُ قُلوبَهُم
عُرسُ المَحَبَّةِ مَأتَمُ البَغضاءِ
ذَنبي إِلى الحُسّادِ أَنّي فُتُّهُم
وَتَرَكتُهُم يَتَعَثَّرونَ وَرائي
وَخَطيئَتي الكُبرى إِلَيهِم أَنَّهُم
قَعَدوا وَلَم أَقعُد عَلى الغَبراءِ
عَفوُ المُروءَةِ وَالرُجولَةِ أَنَّني
أَخطَأتُ حينَ حَسِبتُهُم نُظَرائي
شُكراً لِكُلِّ فَتىً مَزَجتُ بِروحِهِ
روحي فَطابَ وَلاؤُهُ وَوَلائي
مَن كانَ يَحلَمُ بِالسَماءِ فَإِنَّني
في قَلبِ إِنسانٍ وَجَدتُ سَمائي
لَيسَ الجَمالُ هُوَ الجَمالُ بِذاتِهِ
الحُسنُ يوجَدُ حينَ يوجَدُ رائي
ما الكَونُ ما في الكَونِ لَولا آدَمٌ
إِلّا هَباءٌ عالِقٌ بِهَباءِ
وَأَبو البَرِيَّةِ ما أَبانَ وُجودَهُ
وَأَتَمَّ غايَتَهُ سِوى حَوّاءِ
إِنّي سَكَبتُ الخَمرَ حينَ سَكَبتُها
لِلناسِ لا لِلأَنجُمِ الزَهراءِ
لا تَشرَبُ الخَمرَ النُجومُ وَإِن تَكُن
مَعصورَةً مِن أَنفُسِ الشُعَراءِ
تِلكَ السُنونُ عَقيمُها كَوَلودِها
حُلوٌ لَدَيَّ كَذا يَشاءُ وَفائي
فَاللَيلَةُ العَسراءُ مِن عُمري
وَعُمرُ الدَهرِ مِثلَ اللَيلَةِ السَمحاءِ
يا مَن يَقولُ ظَلَمتَ نَفسَكَ فَاِتَّئِد
دَعني فَلَستَ بِحامِلٍ أَعبائي
إِنَّ الحَياةَ الروحُ بَعضُ عَطائِها
وَأَنا ثِمارُ الروحِ كُلُّ عَطائي
ما العُمرُ إِن هُوَ كَالإِناءِ وَإِنَّني
بِالطَيِّبِ الغالي مَلَأتُ إِنائي
فَإِذا بَقيتُ فَلِلجَمالِ بَقائي
وَإِذا فَنيتُ فَفي الجَمالِ فَنائي
لِلَّهِ ما أَحلى وَأَسنى لَيلَتي
هِيَ في كِتابِ العُمرِ كَالطُغراءِ
يا صَحبُ لَن أَنسى جَميلَ صَنيعِكُم
حَتّى تُفارِقَ هَيكَلي حَوبائي
وَتَقولُ عَيني قَد فَقَدتُ ضِيائي
وَيَقولُ قَلبي قَد فَقَدتُ رَجائي
