لِلَّهِ مِن عَبَثِ القَضاءِ وَسُخرِهِ
بِالناسِ وَالحالاتِ وَالأَشياءِ
God help us from the absurdity of Fate and its mockery
Of people, of circumstances, and of things.
كَم دَرَّةٍ في التاجِ أَلفٌ مِثلُها
في القاعِ لَم تَخرُج مِنَ الظَلماءِ
How many a pearl sits in the crown, while a thousand others
Lie on the ocean floor, never emerging from the darkness.
وَلَكَم تَعَثَّرَ بِالغُبارِ سُمَيذَعٌ
وَاِنداحَتِ الأَطوادُ لِلجُبَناءِ
How often has a noble soul stumbled in the dust,
While towering mountains leveled themselves for cowards.
وَلَكَم جَنى عَلَمٌ عَلى أَربابِهِ
وَجَنى الهَناءَ جَماعَةُ الجُهَلاءِ
And how often has brilliance brought harm upon its masters,
While the throng of the ignorant gathered the harvest of joy.
أَرَأَيتَ أَعجَبَ حالَةٍ مِن حالِنا
أَزَفَ الرَحيلُ وَلَم نَفُز بِلِقاءِ
Have you ever seen a plight stranger than ours?
Departure has drawn near, yet we have failed to meet.
عاشَت شُهوراً بِالرَجاءِ قُلوبُنا
وَبِلَحظَةٍ أَمسَت بِغَيرِ رَجاءِ
For months our hearts lived on hope,
And in a single moment, they were left bereft of it.
ماتَت أَمانينا الحِسانُ أَجِنَّةً
لَم تَكتَحِل أَجفانُها بِضِياءِ
Our beautiful aspirations died as embryos,
Their eyelids never graced by the kohl of light.
فَكَأَنَّها بَرقٌ تَأَلَّقَّ وَاِنطَوى
في اللَيلِ لَم تَلمَحهُ مُقلَةُ راءِ
As if they were a lightning bolt that flashed and vanished,
Deep in the night, glimpsed by no observer's eye.
وَكَأَنَّنا كُنّا نُحَلِّقُ في الفَضا
صُعُداً لِنَلمِسَ مَنكِبَ الجَوزاءِ
It was as if we were soaring through the firmament,
Ascending to touch the very shoulder of Gemini,
حَتّى إِذا حانَ الوُصولُ رَمَت بِنا
نَكباءُ عاتِيَةٌ إِلى الغَبراءِ
Until, just as arrival was due, a fierce
And violent crosswind cast us down to the dusty earth.
وَكَأَنَّ تَكسَسَ وَهيَ في هَذا الحِمى
صَقعٌ كَسانبولٍ قَصِيٌّ ناءِ
It is as though Texas, despite being within this protected land,
Is a region as distant and remote as Istanbul.
طوبى لَها إِن كانَ يَعلَمُ أَهلُها
أَنَّ النَزيلَ بِها أَخو الوَرقاءِ
Blessed would she be if her people but knew
That the guest residing within her is the brother of the dove.
كانَت مَسارِحَ لِلرُعاةِ فَأَصبَحَت
لَمّا أَتاها كَعبَةَ الشُعَراءِ
These lands were merely pastures for shepherds, but became,
Upon his arrival, a Kaaba for the poets.
هُوَ بُلبُلٌ عَبَقُ النُبُوَّةِ في أَغا
نيهِ وَفيها نَكهَةُ الصَهباءِ
He is a nightingale; the fragrance of prophecy is in his songs,
And within them lies the intoxicating flavor of wine,
وَجَلالُ لُبنانٍ وَقَد غَمَرَ المَسا
هَضَباتِهِ وَاِنسالَ في الأَدواءِ
Carrying the majesty of Lebanon, when the evening has flooded
Its highlands and flowed softly into the valleys.
غَنّى فَفي النَسَماتِ وَالأَوراقِ
وَالغُدرانِ أَعراسٌ بِلا ضَوضاءِ
When he sang, the breezes, the leaves,
And the brooks celebrated noiseless weddings.
وَبَكى فَشاعَ الحُزنُ في الأَزهارِ
وَالأَظلالِ وَالأَلوانِ وَالأَضواءِ
And when he wept, sorrow spread through the flowers,
Through the shadows, the colors, and the lights.
هُوَ نَفحَةٌ قُدسِيَّةٌ هَبَطَت إِلى
هَذا الثَرى مِن عالَمِ اللَألاءِ
He is a sacred breath that has descended
Upon this soil from the realm of radiance.
لَو عادَ لِلدُنيا البُراقُ وَحُزنُهُ
ما كانَ إِلّا نَحوَهُ إِسرائي
If the celestial steed Al-Buraq were to return to this world,
My night journey would be towards none but him.
أَشكو البَعادَ وَلَيسَ لي أَن أَشتَكي
فَسَماؤُهُ مَوصولَةٌ بِسَمائي
I complain of the distance, yet I have no right to complain,
For his sky is inextricably joined to my sky.
ما حالَ بَينَ نُفوسِنا ما حالَ بَيـ
ـنَ جُسومِنا مِن أَجبُلٍ وَفَضاءِ
The mountains and vast spaces that stand between our bodies
Could never stand between our souls.
فَلَكَم نَظَرتُ إِلى الرُبى فَلَمَحتَهُ
في الأُقحُوانِ الخَيِّرِ المِعطاءِ
How often have I gazed at the hills and glimpsed him
In the benevolent, bountiful chamomile.
وَسَمِعتُ ساقِيَةً تَئِنُّ فَخِلتَني
لِبُكائِهِ أَوطانُهُ إِصغائي
And I heard a brook moaning, and imagined myself
Lending my ear to the sound of his weeping.
وَإِذا تَلوحُ لِيَ الجِبالُ ذَكَرتُهُ
فَالشاعِرُ القَرَوِيُّ طَودُ إِباءِ
And whenever the mountains loom before me, I remember him,
For the Village Poet is a towering mountain of pride.
مَن كانَ يَحلُمُ بِالغَديرِ فَإِنَّهُ
يَبدو لَهُ في كُلِّ قَطرَةِ ماءِ
He who dreams of the spring will find it
Revealing itself to him in every drop of water.
إِن كُنتُ لَم أَرَهُ فَقَد شاهَدتُهُ
بِعُيونِ أَصحابي وَذاكَ عَزائي
If I have not seen him myself, I have witnessed him
Through the eyes of my friends, and that is my consolation.
أَفَتى القَوافي كَالشِواظِ عَلى العِدى
وَعَلى قُلوبِ الصَحبِ كَالأَنداءِ
O master of rhymes, searing like fire against the enemy,
Yet falling upon the hearts of friends like gentle dew.
سارَت إِلَيكَ تَحِيَّتي وَلَوَ اِنَّني
خُيِّرتُ كُنتُ تَحِيَّتي وَدُعائي
My greeting has journeyed to you; yet had I been
Given the choice, I would have been my own greeting and prayer.
