جَنى الجَمالُ عَلى نَصرٍ فَغَرَّبَهُ
عَنِ المَدينَةِ تَبكيهِ وَيَبكيها
Beauty wronged Nasr and drove him into exile
from Medina, which wept for him as he wept for her.
وَكَم رَمَت قَسِماتُ الحُسنِ صاحِبَها
وَأَتعَبَت قَصَباتُ السَبقِ حاويها
How often beauty’s features have struck their possessor,
and the trophies of preeminence have wearied the one who wins them.
وَزَهرَةُ الرَوضِ لَولا حُسنُ رَونَقِها
لَما اِستَطالَت عَلَيها كَفُّ جانيها
Were the meadow’s blossom not so splendidly beautiful,
no plucker’s hand would have reached out against it.
كانَت لَهُ لِمَّةٌ فَينانَةٌ عَجَبٌ
عَلى جَبينٍ خَليقٍ أَن يُحَلّيها
He had luxuriant locks—a marvel—
upon a brow itself worthy to adorn them.
وَكانَ أَنّى مَشى مالَت عَقائِلُها
شَوقاً إِلَيهِ وَكادَ الحُسنُ يَسبيها
Wherever he walked, Medina’s noble ladies inclined toward him,
longing for him; his beauty nearly took them captive.
هَتَفنَ تَحتَ اللَيالي بِاِسمِهِ شَغَفاً
وَلِلحِسانِ تَمَنٍّ في لَياليها
Infatuated, they cried his name beneath the cover of night,
for in Medina’s nights the fair women nursed their longings.
جَزَزتَ لِمَّتَهُ لَمّا أُتيتَ بِهِ
فَفاقَ عاطِلُها في الحُسنِ حاليها
You clipped his locks when he was brought before you,
yet shorn of them, he surpassed in beauty one adorned by them.
فَصِحتَ فيهِ تَحَوَّل عَن مَدينَتِهِم
فَإِنَّها فِتنَةٌ أَخشى تَماديها
Then you cried out at him, “Leave their city!
It is a temptation whose spread I fear.”
وَفِتنَةُ الحُسنِ إِن هَبَّت نَوافِحُها
كَفِتنَةِ الحَربِ إِن هَبَّت سَواقيها
For beauty’s temptation, when its fragrant breezes stir,
is like war’s turmoil when its drivers surge forth.
Sol 5.6