لَقَد أَعقَبَت بِالبُؤسِ مِنكَ وَبِالنُعمى
وَأَصبَحَ طَرفاً لا أَراكَ بِهِ أَعمى
After prosperity she brought you woe, after sight blindness.
You were quenched with the drafts of parting's sorrow.
سُقيتَ الحَيا مِن ظاعِنِ الثُكلِ قَد ثَوى
وَأَبقى رُبوعَ المَجدِ موحِشَةً عُتما
The realms of glory she left waste and dark.
I plighted it my troth, fed its renown my fame,
وَقَد كُنتُ أُمضيهِ عَلى الخَطبِ مُنصُلاً
وَآوي لَهُ رُكناً وَأَسري بِهِ نَجما
Till in fulness of fame it parted from me,
As the moon at her full seeks a cloud to veil her.
تَرَحَّلَ لَمّا أَن تَكامَلَ مَجدُهُ
وَلَيسَ كُسوفُ البَدرِ إِلّا إِذا تَمّا
Long in despite of envier and hater he lived.
He died; to live for ever in guidance and bounty.
لَقَد عاشَ رَغماً لِلحَواسِدِ وَالعِدا
وَماتَ عَلى أَنفِ النَدى وَالهُدى رَغما
While he lived, life shone white near him.
Now that he is dead our days are become gloom.
وَكانَت لَيالي العَيشِ بيضاً بِقُربِهِ
فَقَد أَصبَحَت أَيامُنا بَعدَهُ دُهما
He gave the sword its right in the death-shudder.
He was well pleased if he saw it flash midst the host.
وَقَد كانَ يُعطي السَيفَ في الرَوعِ حَقَّهُ
وَيَرضى إِذا أَرواهُ في الشِركِ أَن يَظما
The cheek of dread shone bright at his laugh in all fight.
When to seekers of gifts the glooms gathered swirling,
وَيُضحِكُ ثَغرَ النَصرِ في كُلِّ مَعرَكٍ
يُرى وَسطَهُ وَجهُ الرَدى عابِساً جَهما
He would give, when the slaves of ambition stood niggard,
Or the brand of refusal those gatherings were burning.
وَكانَ إِذا الأَمجادُ ظَنّوا نَوالَهُم
لِمُستَمنَحٍ غُرماً رَأى بَذلَهُ غُنما
Ho for Leyla's undulant meadow, a tomb fit to house
The knight of munificence, might and forbearance!
إِذا بَخَلوا أَعطى وَإِن أَحجَموا مَضى
وَإِن أَصلَدوا أَورى وَنارُ عَما
May its dust-clouds refresh where they rise, for they carry
The scent of musk, could but perception attain them!
أَلا فَأتِيا بَطحاءَ لَبلَةَ فَاِندُبا
بِها مَصرَعاً غالَ الشَجاعَةَ وَالحِلما
What blame to a land if it yield for its fruitage
No wit and no wisdom, when watered with blood such as his!
وَأَجوَدُها تَندى الصِلادُ غَضارَةً
بِهِ وَيَفوحُ التُربُ مِسكاً إِذا شُمّا
O house of illustrious sons, ye are left in the day
Of his doom as stars robbed of their beacon in blackness.
وَما عُذرُ أَرضٍ أُشرِبَتهُ فَأَنبَتَت
نَباتاً وَلَم تُنبِت ذَكاءً وَلا حَزما
Gone art thou, O father of braves, yet hast rid us of dule.
Living thou mad'st us renown; dead thou leavest us glory.
بَني فاخِرٍ أَمسَيتُمُ يَومَ فَقدِهِ
كَأَنجُمِ أُفقٍ فارَقَت بَدرَها التِمّا
Thy bounty encompassed all souls, even as now
Thy good sword encompasseth fame.
ذَهَبتَ أَبا الحَجّاجِ لَم تُبقِ ذِلَّةً
وَأَبقَيتَ فينا المَجدَ وَالسُؤدَدَ الضَخما
For how many billows of care hast thou broken in souls!
How many redoubts of misfortune thy give has unmanned!
فَرِزؤُكَ قَد عَمَّ البَرِيَّةَ كُلَّهُم
كَما كانَ فيهِم جودُ يُمناكَ قَد عَمّا
Thou art gone and thine orphan unceasing must weep.
Keen yearning devours her; her pilgrim must roam unavail.
فَكَم حَلَّ في أَحشائِهِم مِنكَ مِن جَوىً
وَكَم حَلَّ في أَيديهِمُ لَكَ مِن نُعمى
The doves in the thicket for sorrow-thy sorrow-must moan,
And the rain-clouds of heaven their torrents of sympathy pour.
وَخَلَّفتَ ثَكلى لا تَكُفُّ جُفونُها
بُكاءً وَلا تَندى جَوانِحُها غَمّا
Upon thee be God's peace! 'Gainst thy fate was no refuge,
But with us may thy name be a buckler, thy glory a guard!
تَنوحُ لَها الأَطيارُ في القُضبِ رِقَّةً
وَيُذري عَلَيها المُزنُ أَدمُعَهُ رَحما
Now are the days after thee pallid and life but a phantom,
And the zephyr that breatheth thy life in the wold is but pain.
عَلَيكَ سَلامُ اللَهِ مِنَ الرَدى
وَمادامَ فيكَ الدَمعُ دونَ العَزا خَصما
وَلاحَ أَصيلُ اليَومِ بَعدَكَ شاحِبا
وَريحُ الصَبا مُعتَلَّةً تَشتَكي السُقما
