أَعَينَيَّ إِلّا تُسعِداني أَلُمكُما
فَما بَعدَ بِشرٍ مِن عَزاءٍ وَلا صَبرِ
My eyes, you bring me no joy unless you gladden me, else your pain is mine,
Beyond grief there is no solace, no patience left,
وَقَلَّ جَداءً عَبرَةٌ تَسفَحانِها
عَلى أَنَّها تَشفي الحَرارَةَ في الصَدرِ
Scarce are the tears that flow from my eyes, though they ease the heat in my chest,
Had a people fought death before us with something, we'd fight fate for mankind,
وَلَو أَنَّ قَوماً قاتَلوا المَوتَ قَبلَنا
بِشَيءٍ لَقاتَلنا المَنِيَّةَ عَن بِشرِ
Yet we grieve, and misfortune is one,
For the white-blessed chief of Banu Amir, affairs went awry,
وَلَكِن فُجِعنا وَالرَزيئَةُ مِثلُهُ
بِأَبيَضَ مَيمونِ النَقيبَةِ وَالأَمرُ
For a king, at whose loss stars almost tumbled, and mountains were shaken,
See how mountains bowed, and after you stars no longer shine,
عَلى مَلِكٍ كادَ النُجومُ لِفَقدِهِ
يَقَعنَ وَزالَ الراسِياتُ مِنَ الصَخرِ
None had needs as we did, but no era lasts,
If India hasn't wept for him, the Pleiades in their clusters have,
أَلَم تَرَ أَنَّ الأَرضَ هُدَّت جِبالُها
وَأَنَّ نُجومَ اللَيلِ بَعدَكَ لا تَسري
How Abu Al-‘Asi has shamed his father, as if veils fell off a full moon,
Banu Umayya nursed his babyhood, no kin had he in Kalib or in-laws,
وَما أَحَدٌ ذو فاقَةٍ كانَ مِثلَنا
إِلَيهِ وَلَكِن لا بَقِيَّةَ لِلدَهرِ
News of him will reach the Commander of the Faithful, it will grow to Abd al-Aziz in Egypt,
That Abu Marwan, your brother, has died, betrayed by no weakness or treachery,
فَإِن لا تَكُن هِندٌ بَكَتهُ فَقَد بَكَت
عَلَيهِ الثُرَيّا في كَواكِبِها الزُهرِ
The snakes of Iraq feared him, and those between Yamama and Cairo,
A land we prefer has taken him in, sheltering the orphaned flowers, and guarding the frontier,
أَغَرُّ أَبو العاصي أَبوهُ كَأَنَّما
تَفَرَّجَتِ الأَثوابُ عَن قَمَرٍ بَدرِ
نَمَتهُ الرَوابي مِن قُرَيشٍ وَلَم تَكُن
لَهُ ذاتُ قُربى في كُلَيبٍ وَلا صِهرِ
سَيَأتي أَميرَ المُؤمِنينَ نَعِيُّهُ
وَيَنمي إِلى عَبدِ العَزيزِ إِلى مِصرِ
بِأَنَّ أَبا مَروانَ بِشراً أَخاكُما
ثَوى غَيرَ مَتبوعٍ بِعَجزٍ وَلا غَدرِ
وَقَد كانَ حَيّاتُ العِراقُ يَخِفنَهُ
وَحَيّاتُ ما بَينَ اليَمامَةِ وَالقَهرُ
وَقَد أوثِرَت أَرضٌ عَلَينا تَضَمَّنَت
رَبيعَ اليَتامى وَالمُقيمَ عَلى الثَغرِ
