وَقَفْتُ عَلَى القَبْرِ الَّذِي أَنْتَ نَازِلُهْ
وُقُوفَ جَبانٍ بَادِيَاتٍ مَقَاتِلُهْ
I stood by the grave where you now dwell,
Standing like a coward with fighting hands,
وَمَا الْقَبْرُ إِلاَّ حَلْقُ غَرْثَانَ هَاضِمٍ
مِن المَوْتِ مَا يُلْقِي بِهِ فَهْوَ غَائِلُهْ
The grave is but the gullet of a voracious crusher,
To whom death gives whatever it takes.
لِمِثْلِ أَمِينٍ يَجْزَعُ النَّاسُ إِذْ مَضَى
اَوَاخِرُهُ مَحْمُودَةٌ وَأَوَائِلُهْ
For one as faithful as Amin, people mourn when he passes,
His ending is praised and his beginnings too,
دَفَنَّاهُ مُبْكِيّاً نَضِيرُ شَبَابِهِ
وَمَبْكِيَّةً آدَابُهُ وَفَضَائِلُهْ
We buried him in tears, his youthful equals,
And in tears his manners and virtues.
كَأَنَّا نُوَارِيهِ الثَّرَى كُلَّ سَاعَةٍ
أَسىً وَكَأَنَّا كُلَّ آنٍ نُزَايِلُهْ
As if we bid the earth farewell every hour,
In sorrow, as if we descend to him each moment.
هَوَى بَيْنَ أَيْدِينَا وَقَدْ وَدَّتِ المُنَى
لَوْ أَنَّ لِفَضْلٍ سَاعِداً فَهْوَ نَاشِلُهْ
He fell between our hands though fate yearned for him,
If only merit could save him, it would have rescued him.
كَمَا سَقَطَتْ فِي البَحْرِ دُرَّةُ بَاخِلٍ
أَحَاقَ بِهِ لُجٌّ مِنَ اليَأْسِ شَامِلُهْ
Like a miser's pearl that fell in the sea,
Despair's tides engulfed him.
فَرَاحَ يُعِيدُ الطَّرْفَ لا هُوَ صَابِرٌ
وَلا هُوَ يَدْرِي أَيَّ أَمْرٍ يُحَاوِلُهْ
He glanced around, not resigned,
Not knowing what he was pondering.
يُقَطِّرُ فَوْقَ الغَمْرِ سَائِلَ دَمْعِهِ
وَلا يُدْرِكُ الشيء الَّذِي هُو سَائِلُهْ
He sheds tears over sorrow, questioning their source,
A lad who raced to every goal,
فَتىً كَانَ سَبَّاقاً إِلَى كُلِّ غَايَةٍ
وَيَعْلَمُ إِلاَّ قَدْرَهُ فَهْوَ جَاهِلُهْ
None can know his worth but God.
We hoped medicine would delight us by curing him,
رَجَوْنَا لَهُ بِالطِّبِّ بُرْءاً يَسُرُّنَا
بِهِ وَإِذَا الطب المُؤَمَّلُ خَاذِلُهْ
But the hoped-for remedy failed him.
When the sickness lies in the heart,
وَمنْ قَلْبُهُ الدَّاءُ الَّذِي هُوَ يَشْتَكِي
فَمَاذَا تَدَاوِيهِ وَمَاذَا وَسَائِلُهْ
What remedies, what efforts can heal?
He enjoyed life's goodness and bitterness,
وَكَانَ عَلَى طِيبِ الزَّمَانِ وَخُبْثِهِ
جَنِيَّ ثِمَارِ الأُنْسِ عَذْباً مَنَاهِلُهْ
Sweetly drinking the draughts of company,
Seeking only praise, ascent, and God's approval,
وَلا يَبْتَغِي إِلاَّ المَحَامِدَ وَالعُلَى
وَمَرضَاةَ وجْهِ اللهِ فِيمَا يُزَاوِلُهْ
In all his endeavors.
When clouds of events encircled him,
إِذَا أَطْبَقَتْ سُحْبُ الحَوَادِثِ حَوْلَهُ
أَضَاءَتْ بِهَا أَخْلاقُهُ وَشَمَائِلُهْ
His virtues and traits shone through them.
If the fires of malice approached him,
وَإِنْ تَدْنُ نَارُ الحِقْدِ مِنْهُ تَضَوَّعَتْ
مَنَاقِبُه طِيباً بِهَا وَفَوَاصِلُهْ
His virtues were perfumed by them.
His hand recoiled only from evil,
وَمَا انْقَبَضَتْ إِلاَّ عَنِ الشَّرِّ كَفُّهُ
وَمَا انْبَسَطَتْ إِلاَّ لِخَيْرٍ أَنَامِلُهْ
His fingers stretched only towards good.
He left us torn between the faithful one while we
فَلا رَاعَنَا بَيْنَ الأَمِينِ وَكُلُّنَا
يَجِدُّ إِلَيْهِ وَالهُمُومُ رَواحِلُهْ
Yearned for him and sorrows rode us.
Can a man hope for longevity under any condition,
هَلِ المَرْءُ مَرْجُوٌّ عَلَى كُلِّ حَالَةٍ
لِطُول بَقَاءٍ وَاللَّيَالِي كَوافِلُهْ
When nights and days are his executioners?
If an infant, death holds him hostage from birth
فَإِنْ كَانَ طِفْلاً فَهْوَ منذ وِلادِهِ
رَهِينُ المَنَايَا وَالرَّزَايَا قَوَابِلُهْ
And fate and calamities are his midwives.
If an old man, his head has bowed down to the ground,
وَإِنْ كَانَ شَيْخاً فَهوَ قَدْ شدَّ رَأْسُهُ
إِلَى الأَرضِ مِنْ عَجْزٍ وَنَاءَتْ كَوَاهِلُهْ
From frailty, and his shoulders are weighed down.
