سإمت من المواصلة العتابا — Jarir

I have wearied of reproaches over our bond,

And gray hair has now inherited youth.

The wild winds went forth bearing glad tidings

To the clouds, toward Bayn, where you had settled.

You have indeed permitted a slanderer to malign us,

While we never allowed anyone to speak ill of you.

A composed woman, with no tale-bearer for a companion,

Nor does she bestow insults on her neighbor.

The earth grows pleasant whenever she settles in a land,

And is watered by white clouds when she alights there.

It is as though musk mingled with the taste of her mouth,

With raincloud water, its bubbles coursing one after another.

Will you not requite me? As for my soul's cares,

In remembering you, I prolong my grief over them.

I was watered with rain where you went far from us;

For we desire closeness to none but you.

Has this withholding made your dwelling more distant?

If only love had brought you nearer!

The carefree one has slept, and my night grows long,

For love of you, so long as I pass the night weeping over it.

I see estrangement awaken every day

Reproaches in my heart whenever I forsake you.

And how many a friend in the gravelly valleys

Would, were I stricken, feel himself the stricken one!

And many a man rejoices at our return to him,

And Azar wishes us no return.

Al-Hajjaj prayed as Noah prayed,

So he made the Lord of the ways of ascent hear, and He answered.

You held your soul steadfast, O son of Abu Aqil,

In steadfast duty—how do you find the reward?

Had your Lord not been pleased, He would not have sent down

The wrathful angels along with victory.

When the caliph kindles the fire of war,

He sees al-Hajjaj as its fiercest-blazing firebrand.

You regard support for the imam as your duty,

When they mingle doubt with their religion.

You charge, never faltering on the day of battle,

When battle's perils shake the eagle-banner.

You have found relief from the demons of Iraq,

So they became submissive to you, their necks bowed.

And they said, 'No emir shall dwell among us

Who enforces the prescribed penalty and follows the Book.'

When they resort—though their plotting is weak—

To a door for their schemes, you open another door.

And a grizzled man, wandering in his blindness—

You gave the gray of his beard a dye.

When your ropes ensnare a rebel's rope,

The rebel sees his appointed end drawing near.

For the sword cannot be turned back

When it tears the covering from the lung.

It is as though you had seen advance forces

In Sinistan, their domed tents already raised.

You stationed at every perilous guarded post

Ranks of armored men there, and spear-thickets.