يا أَيُّها الشِعرُ أَسعِفني فَأَرثيهِ
وَيا دُموعَ أَعينيني فَأَبكيهِ
O Poetry, come to my aid that I may mourn him,
And O tears, assist me that I may weep for him.
بَحَثتُ لي عَن مُعَزٍّ يَومَ مَصرَعِهِ
فَلَم أَجِد غَيرَ مَحزونٍ أُعَزّيهِ
I searched for a consoler on the day of his demise,
But found only the grieving, whom I had to console.
وَما سَأَلتُ اِمرَأً فيما تُفَجِّعُهُ
إِلّا وَجاوَبَ إِنّي مِن مُحِبّيهِ
I asked no man about the cause of his distress,
But that he replied, "I am among those who loved him."
كَأَنَّما كُلُّ إِنسانٍ أَضاعَ أَخاً
أَوِ اِنطَوَت فَجأَةً دُنيا أَمانيهِ
As though every person has lost a brother,
Or the world of their hopes has suddenly collapsed.
فَذا أَساهُ لَهيبٌ في أَدالُعِهِ
وَذا أَساهُ دُموعٌ في مَآقيهِ
For this one, his sorrow is a flame within his ribs,
And for that one, his sorrow is tears within his eyes.
فَهَل دَرى أَيَّ سَهمٍ في القُلوبِ رَمى
لَمّا نَعاُ إِلى الأَسماعِ اعيهِ
Did the announcer know what arrow he struck into our hearts,
When he broke the news of his death to our ears?
يا شاعِرَ الحُسنِ هَذا الرَوضُ قَد طَلَعَت
فيهِ الرَياحينُ وَاِفتَرَّت أَقاحيهِ
O Poet of Beauty, this garden has brought forth
Its sweet basil, and its daisies have blossomed wide.
وَشاعَ أَيّارُ عِطراً في جَوانِبِهِ
وَنَضرَةً وَاِخضِراًّ في رَوابيهِ
And May has spread fragrance throughout its borders,
With lushness and greenery upon its hills.
فَأَينَ شِعرُكَ يَسري مَع نَسائِمِهِ
وَأَينَ سِحرُكَ يَجري في سَواقيهِ
So where is your verse to flow with its breezes?
And where is your magic to run through its streams?
هَجَرتَهُ فَاِمَّحَت مِنهُ بَشاشَتُهُ
ماتَ الهَوى فيهِ لمّا ماتَ شاديهِ
You have abandoned it, so its joy has been erased;
Love died within it when its singer passed away.
أَغنى عَنِ الدُرِّ في القيعانِ مُختَبِئً
دُرٌّ يُساقيطُهُ الحَدّادُ مِن فيهِ
He made us forget the pearls hidden in the deep,
With pearls that Al-Haddad scatters from his mouth.
وَكانَ لِلسِحرِ تَأثيرٌ فَأَبطَلَهُ
بِالسِحرِ يَجري حَلالاً في قَوافيهِ
Sorcery once held power, but he annulled it
With a lawful magic that flows through his rhymes.
بَلاغَةُ المُتَنَبّي في مَدائِحِهِ
وَدَمعُ خَنساءَ صَخرٍ في مَراثيهِ
He possessed the eloquence of Al-Mutanabbi in his praise,
And the tears of Al-Khansa weeping for Sakhr in his laments.
لا يَعذَبُ الشِعرُ إِلّا حينَ يَنظُمُهُ
أَو حينَ يُنشِدُهُ أَو حينَ يَرويهِ
Poetry is never sweet until he composes it,
Or when he recites it, or tells its tale.
وَيا طَبيباً يُداوي الناسَ مِن عِلَلٍ
داءُ الأَسى اليَومَ فيهِم مَن يُداويهِ
O physician who used to cure the people of their ills,
Who will cure the disease of sorrow in them today?
أَمسى الَّذي كانَ يَشجينا وَيُطرِبُنا
لا شَيءَ يُطرِبُهُ لا شَيءَ يَشجيهِ
The one who used to move us and delight us has become
Unmoved by delight, untouched by grief.
لَقَد تَساوى لَدَيهِ شَدوُ ساجِعَةٍ
وَصَوتُ نائِحَةٍ في الحَيِّ تَبكيهِ
To him, the cooing of a songbird is the same
As the voice of a mourner weeping in the neighborhood.
صارَت لياليهِ نَوماً غَيرَ مُنقَطِعِ
وَلَم تَكُن هَكَذا قَبلاً لَياليهِ
His nights have become an unbroken sleep,
Though his nights were never like this before.
قَد كانَ نِبراسُنا في الموعضِلاتِ إِذا
ما لَيلُها جُنَّ وَاِربَدَّت نَواصيهِ
He was our guiding lantern in times of crisis,
When the night grew dark and its horizons turned grim.
فَمَن لَنا في غَدٍ إِن أَزمَةٌ عَرَضَت
وَلَيسَ فينا أَخو حَزمٍ يُضاهيهِ
Who shall we have tomorrow if calamity strikes,
When no man of resolve among us compares to him?
مَن لِلحَزينِ يُواسيهِ وَيُسعِدُهُ
وَلِلمَريضِ يُداويهِ فَيَشفيهِ
Who is there to console and gladden the sorrowful,
And who to treat the sick and bring them healing?
يا قائِدَ القَومِ إِن تَسأَل فَإِنَّهُم
باتوا حَيارى كَإِسرائيلَ في التيهِ
O leader of the people, if you were to ask of them,
They have become lost like the Israelites in the wilderness.
لَمّا رَأوكَ مُسَجّى بَينَهُم عَلِموا
ما العَيشُ غَيرَ أَخايِّلٍ وَتَمويهِ
When they saw you shrouded in their midst, they knew
That life is but an illusion and a deception.
يا رِزقُ قَلبي عَلَيكَ اليَومَ مُنفَطِرٌ
وَكُلُّ قَلبٍ كَقَلبي في تَشَظّيهِ
O Rizq, my heart is torn asunder for you this day,
And every heart is shattered just like mine.
لَم يَحُِ نَعشُكَ جِسماً لا حِراكَ بِهِ
بَل أَنتَ آمالُنا مَوضوعَةٌ فيهِ
Your coffin did not merely hold a motionless body;
Nay, it is our very hopes that are laid within it.
غَداً يُواريكَ عَن أَبصارُنا جَدَثٌ
لَكِنَّ فَضلَكَ لا شِئٌ يُواريهِ
Tomorrow, a grave will hide you from our sight,
But your virtue—nothing can ever conceal it.
