لِمَن يَضوعُ العَبيرُ

لِمَن تُغَنّي الطُيورُ

For whom does the fragrance waft?

For whom do the birds sing?

لِمَن تُصَفُّ القَناني

لِمَن تُصَبُّ الخُمورُ

For whom are the bottles arrayed?

For whom is the wine poured out?

وَلا جَمالٌ أَنيقٌ

وَلا شَبابٌ نَضيرُ

When there is no elegant beauty,

Nor any blooming youth,

بَل مومِياتٌ عَلَيها

أَطالِس وَحَريرُ

But rather mummies, draped in

Satins and silks.

راحَت تُقَعقِعُ حَولي

فَكادَ عَقلي يَطيرُ

They began clattering about me

Until my mind nearly took flight,

وَلاذَ قَلبي بِصَدري

كَأَنَهُ عُصفورُ

And my heart sought refuge in my chest

As though it were a frightened sparrow,

لاحَت لَهُ في الأَعالي

بَواشِق وَصُقورُ

To whom had appeared, in the heights,

Sparrowhawks and falcons.

وَقالَ ضويِقتَ فَاِهرِب

قُلتُ الفَرارُ عَسيرُ

It said, "You are cornered, so flee!"

I replied, "Escape is impossible;"

ما لي جَناح وَلا لي

سَيّارَةٌ أَو بَعيرُ

"I possess no wing, nor do I have"

"An automobile or a camel."

صَبراً فَهَذا بَلاءٌ

مُقَدَّرٌ مَسطورُ

"Patience, for this is a tribulation"

"Ordained and written by fate."

وَرُحتُ أَسأَلُ رَبّي

وَهُوَ اللَطيفُ الخَبيرُ

And I went asking my Lord—

He is the Subtle, the All-Aware—

أَينَ الحِسانُ الصَبايا

إِن كانَ هَذا النُشورُ

"Where are the beautiful young maidens,"

"If this is indeed the Resurrection?"

لَيتَ الحُضورَ غِيابٌ

وَالغائِبينَ حُضورُ

"Would that those present were absent,"

"And the absent ones were present."

بَل لَيتَ كُلَّ نَسيجٍ

بَراقِع وَسُتورُ

"Nay, would that every woven fabric"

"Were thick veils and curtains,"

فَقَد أَضَر وَآذى

عَينَيَّ هَذا السُفورُ

"For it has harmed and offended"

"My eyes, this unveiling."

هَذي العُصورُ الخَوالي

تَطوفُ بي وَتَدورُ

These ancient eras

Circle and revolve around me

مِن كُلِّ شَمطاءَ وَلّى

شَبابُها وَالغُرورُ

In the form of every gray-haired woman,

Whose youth and vanity have fled.

كَأَنَّما الفَمُ مِنها

مُقَطَّبٌ مَزرورُ

It is as if her mouth

Is puckered tight and buttoned shut;

كيسٌ عَلى غَيرِ شَيءٍ

مِنَ الحِلى مَصرورُ

A pouch containing nothing,

Tied up to hold invisible jewels.

كَأَنَّما هُوَ جُرحٌ

مَرَّت عَلَيهِ شُهورُ

It is as if it is a wound

Over which months have passed.

يا طالِبَ الشَهدِ أَقصِر

لَم يَبقَ إِلّا القَفيرُ

O seeker of honey, desist;

Nothing remains but the empty hive.

كَأَنَّما الوَجهُ مِنها

قَد عَضَّهُ الزَمهَريرُ

It is as if her face

Has been bitten by the bitterest frost;

كَالبَدرِ حينَ تَراهُ

يُعينَكَ الناذورُ

Like the full moon when you view it

Aided by a telescope:

تَبدو لِعَينَيكَ فيهِ

بَرازِخ وَبُحورُ

There appear to your eyes within it

Dry isthmuses and seas,

وَأَنجُد وَوِهادٌ

لَكِنَّهُ مَهجورُ

And highlands and deep ravines,

Yet it is entirely desolate.

مِثلُ المِسَن وَلَكِن

لا ماءَ فيهِ يَمورُ

Like a whetstone, and yet

No water flows within it.

ما لِلبَعوضَةِ فيهِ

قوتٌ بَلِ التَضوِرُ

A mosquito would find there

No sustenance, only starvation.

وَلا يُؤَثِّرُ فيهِ

ناب وَلا أُظفورُ

It is unaffected by

Either fang or claw.

وَلِليَدَينِ اِرتِعاشٌ

وَلِلعِظامِ صَريرُ

Their hands possess a tremor,

And their bones, a creaking sound.

أَما العُيونُ فَغارَت

وَلا تَزالُ تَغورُ

As for their eyes, they have sunken,

And they continue to recede;

مَغاوِرٌ بَل صَحارى

بَل أَكهُفٌ بَل قُبورُ

They are caverns, nay, deserts,

Nay, hollows, nay, graves.

وَالخَصرُ عَفواً وَ

صَفحاً لَهُنَّ خُصورُ

And the waist—begging your pardon and

Forgiveness—do they even have waists?

هُنَّ السَعالى وَلَكِن

سُعالُهُنَّ كَثيرُ

They are ogresses, except that

Their coughing is incessant.

حَديثُهُنَّ اِنتِفاضٌ

وَضِحكُهُنَّ حَريرُ

Their conversation is a shudder,

And their laughter is a wheeze.

وَمَشيُهُنَّ اِرتِباكٌ

وَتارَةً تَقديرُ

Their walk is a stumbling confusion,

And at times, a calculated shuffle.

يَغضَبنَ إِن مالَ ظِلٌّ

وَإِن شَدا شُحرورُ

They grow angry if a shadow shifts,

Or if a blackbird sings,

وَإِن تَهادَت غُصونٌ

وَإِن تَسارى عَبيرُ

Or if branches sway gently,

Or if fragrance wafts through the night,

وَإِن تَمايَلَ عُشبٌ

وَإِن تَماوَجَ نورُ

Or if the grass dances,

Or if the light ripples.

فَكُلُّ شَيءٍ قَبيحٌ

وَكُلُّ شَيءٍ حَقيرُ

For everything is ugly,

And everything is despicable to them.

وَكَيفَ يَفرَحُ قَلبٌ

رَجائُهُ مَدحورُ

And how can a heart rejoice

When its hope is utterly defeated?

ما لِلرَمادِ لَهيبٌ

ما لِلجَليدِ خَريرُ

Ashes possess no flame,

And ice possesses no murmur.

مِن حَولِهِنَّ الأَقاحي

وَالوَرد وَالمَنثورُ

Around them bloom the daisies,

The roses and the gillyflowers,

وَهُنَّ مُكتَإِباتٌ

كَأَنَّهُنَّ صُخورُ

Yet they sit in deep gloom,

As though they were stones.

لا يَبتَسِمنَ لِشَيءٍ

أَما لَهُنَّ ثُغورُ

They do not smile at anything;

Do they possess no mouths?

بَلى لَهُنَّ ثُغورٌ

وَإِنَّما لا شُعورُ

Indeed, they have mouths,

But they possess no feeling.

كَأَنَّما الحُسنُ في الأَر

ضِ كُلُّهُ تَزويرُ

It is as if all beauty on earth

Is merely a deception.

في فُندُقٍ أَنا فيهِ ضَيفٌ

جَهَنَّمٍ مَحشورُ

In a hotel where I am a guest,

Or rather, corralled in Hell,

وَهَل أَنا فيهِ ضَيفٌ

لِساعَةٍ أَم أَسيرُ

Am I truly a guest here

For an hour, or a prisoner?

يا لَيتَني لَم أَزُرهُ

وَلَيتَهُ مَهجورُ

I wish I had never visited it,

And I wish it were abandoned.

فَلَيسَ يَهنَءُ فيهِ

إِلّا الأَصَمُّ الَريرُ

For no one finds joy therein

Save the deaf and the blind.