يا سَيِّدي وَأَخي لَقَد أَذكَرتَني
عَهدَ الصِبى وَوَعَظتَني وَنَصَحتَ لي
O my master and brother, you reminded me
Of the days of my childhood, and admonished and advised me.
أَذكَرتَني وادي دِمَشقَ وَظِلَّهُ الـ
ـضافي عَلى صافي البَرودِ السَلسَلِ
You reminded me of the valley of Damascus and its
Shady dwellings by the clear, flowing streams.
وَوَصَفتَ لي زَمَنَ الرَبيعِ وَقَد بَدا
هرمُ الزَمانِ إِلى شَبابٍ مُقبِلِ
And you described to me the season of spring, when
The wheel of time turns towards flourishing youth.
وَتَجاوَبَ الأَطيارِ فيهِ فَمُطرِبٌ
يُلهي الشَجِيَّ وَنائِحٌ يُشجي الخَلي
The birds sing out joyfully,
A warbler to enchant the listener, a mourner to make the heart ache.
يُغني النَديمَ عَنِ القِيانِ غِناؤُها
فَالعَندَليبُ بِها رسيلُ البُلبُلِ
Their singing entertains the boon companion,
The nightingale is the messenger of the bulbul.
فَكَأَنَّها أَخَذَت عَن اِبنِ مقلّدٍ
قَولَ المُسَرَّجِ في الثَقيلِ الأَوَّلِ
It is as if they learned from Ibn Muqlid
His words in the first slow mode.
وَمدامَةً مِن صَيدِنا يا نَشرُها
مِن عَنبَرٍ وَقَميصُها مِن صَندَلِ
And a doe of our hunting, with its scent
Of ambergris and its shirt of sandalwood,
مِسكِيَّةَ النَفحاتِ يَشرُفُ أَصلُها
عَن بابِلٍ وَيجلُّ عَن قُطرَبُّلِ
Musky in its exhalations, its origin from
Babylon, outshining even Qutrubbul.
وَتَقولُ أَهلُ دِمَشقَ أَكرَمُ مَعشَرٍ
وَأَجَلُّهُم وَدِمَشقُ أَفضَلُ مَنزِلِ
And the people of Damascus say it is the noblest
City, the greatest dwelling.
وَصَدَقتَ إِنَّ دِمَشقَ جَنَّةُ هَذِهِ الـ
ـدُنيا وَلكِنَّ الجَحيمَ أَلَذُّ لي
And you spoke truly, Damascus is the paradise of this
World, but for me hell is sweeter.
لا الحاكِمُ المصرِيُّ يَنفُذُ حُكمُهُ
فيها عَلَيَّ وَلا العَواني الموصِلي
Neither the Egyptian ruler nor the ruler of Mosul
Can enforce their rule over me there.
هَيهاتَ أَن آوي دِمَشقَ وَمُلكُها
يُعزى إِلى غَيرِ المَليكِ الأَفضَلِ
Far be it that I should take refuge in Damascus and its kingdom
Be ascribed to other than the most righteous king.
وَمِنَ العَجائِبِ أَن يَقومَ بِها أَبو
بَكرٍ وَقَد عَلِمَ الوَصِيَّةَ في عَلي
And of wonders, that Abu Bakr
Should rule it, when he knows the bequest is to Ali.
مَهلاً أَبا حَسنٍ فَتِلكَ سَحابَةٌ
صَيفِيَّةٌ عَمّا قَليلٍ تَنجَلي
Wait, Abu Hasan, that is but
A summer cloud, soon to disperse.
