قد طاب كأس الصفا
لمّا صفا الدنّ
The cup of purity has grown sweet
when the wine jar grew clear.
إلى الندامي صفا والليل قد جنّ
والصبّ دندن لمّا دنا الدنّ
It cleared for the drinking companions as night fell.
The ardent lover hummed when the jar drew near,
والكأس عنعن
حديث راوي الصفا
and the cup passed on
the tale of the narrator of purity,
وهو المسلسل
ساقي المدام انجلى إذ صبّ للصبّ
linked in a chain.
The wine-pourer appeared and poured for the ardent lover
كاساً إذا مرّ حلا وإن قسا حن
فهام وجداً وأمّ نجداً
a cup that grew sweet as it passed and yearned when it turned harsh.
He wandered in longing and headed for Najd,
وسار جدّاً حتّى إلى حسن من
يهوى توصّل
traveling in earnest until he reached the beauty of the one
he loves.
أخو الهو وابنه أنا له أبْ
لا بل أنا عينه لا من ولا عن
I am passion’s brother and son; I am its father.
No, I am its very essence, with neither ‘from’ nor ‘through.’
والحبّ لي فن فخذه عن من
له تعيّن من قبل أن حكمه
Love is my art; take it from one
to whom it became manifest before its decree
فينا تنزّل
وجه الحبيب انجلى ولاح بالحسن
descended among us.
The beloved’s face was unveiled and shone with beauty.
بعد الجفا والقلا بالوصل قد من
لكنّه سن سيفاً به سن
After estrangement and aversion, he granted union.
Yet he sharpened a sword; with it he decreed
قتلى فأحسن وهكذا من غدا
يهوي ليُقتَل
my death, and did it beautifully. Thus whoever falls
in love is slain.
أنا قتيل الهوى شهيد في بدر
على الحياة احتوى حيّ حوى الأمن
I am slain by love, a martyr at Badr,
which encompassed life, alive and holding safety.
وهو بأمنٍ محبوبه امتن
عليه قد من وما غوى في الهوى
And, secure, his beloved favored him.
He bestowed grace on him; he did not stray in love
ولم يكن ضل
أنا الّذي في الهوى كلّي تكوّن
and was not lost.
I am the one whose whole being took shape in love.
قلبي غدا مستوي به تمكّن
وما تلّون سلوى ولا من
My heart grew steady and became established in it.
It took on no shade of consolation, nor from anyone
لولاه قد أن لمّا بدا للعيون
جسمٌ معلّل
but him; it groaned when there appeared before the eyes
an ailing body.
يا عاذلي لا تجد من يسمع العذل
عن الملام اتّئد فالحبّ أثخن
O my reproacher, you will find no one to hear your reproach.
Cease your blame, for love has driven deep
سهماً تمكّن في القلب قد رن
وعاذلي ظن بأن لي مسمعاً
an arrow lodged in the heart, ringing there.
My reproacher thought I had an ear
لمن تقوّل
مذ لاح بدر الحبيب كلّي غدا عين
for what someone might say.
Since the beloved’s full moon shone, my whole being became an eye.
ولي بعين المغيب للحبّ عَيّنْ
دعا وأذّن أخفى وأعلن
And in the very unseen, he designated love for me.
He called and proclaimed, concealed and declared
لما تبيّن بأنّه قد بدا
آخر وأوّل
when it became clear that he had appeared,
last and first.
Sol 6