هُوَ الدَهرُ مُغرىً بِالكَريمِ وَسَلبِهِ
فَإِن كُنتَ في شَكٍّ بِذاكَ فَسَل بِهِ
Time seduces the generous then robs them
If you doubt that, just ask those who've lived it
أَرانا المَعالي كَيفَ يَنهَدُّ رُكنُها
وَكَيفَ يَغورُ البَدرُ مِن بَينِ شُهبِهِ
See how glory's pillars crumble
As the full moon fades amidst its halo
أَبَعدَ غِياثِ الدينِ يَطمَعُ صَرفُهُ
بِصَرفِ خِطابِ الناسِ عَن ذَمِّ خَطبِهِ
After saving the faith will fate let him rest
When people's talk won't spare his dignity?
وَتَخطو إِلى عَبدِ الكَريمِ خُطوبُهُ
وَيُطلَبُ مِنّا اليَومَ غُفرانُ ذَنبِهِ
Misfortunes seek this generous man
While we're asked to pardon his missteps
سَليلُ النَبِيِّ المُصطَفى وَاِبنُ عَمِّهِ
وَنَجلُ الوَصِيِّ الهاشِمِيِّ لِصُلبِهِ
A prophet's heir, his cousin's noble son
The Hashimite successor's line lives on
فَتىً كانَ مِثلَ الغَيثِ يُخشى وَبالُهُ
وَيُرجى لِطُلّابِ النَدى وَبلُ سُحبِهِ
That boy was rain, feared for the flood he'd bring
Yet hoped for by the meadows for what wetness he would bring
رَقيقُ حَواشي العَيشِ في يَومِ سِلمِهِ
كَثيفُ حَواشي الجَيشِ في يَومِ حَربِهِ
Gentle in peace, in war a barrier dense
Meeting guests with his heart, swords with his face
فَلا يَتَّقي الأَسيافَ إِلّا بِوَجهِهِ
وَلا يَلتَقي الأَضيافَ إِلّا بِقَلبِهِ
Looking with wisdom, hearing with his mind
On days of giving, the man to aid
وَلا يَنظُرُ الأَشياءَ إِلّا بِعَقلِهِ
وَلا يَسمَعُ الأَنباءَ إِلّا بِلُبِّهِ
On days of battle, the army's pole
Do rivals boast of him in frivolous chatter?
إِذا جالَ في يومِ الرَدى قيلَ مَن لَهُ
وَإِن جادَ في يَومِ النَدى قيلَ مَن بِهِ
Why not face him on the day of war?
Never before has a fierce lion been felled
أَمِن بَعدِ ما تَمَّت مَحاسِنُ بَدرِهِ
وَدارَت عَلى كُلِّ الوَرى كاسُ حُزنِهِ
By the bite of dogs, his death their taste
Had they met amidst the swords and spears
دَهَتهُ المَنايا وَهيَ في حَدِّ سَيفِهِ
وَصَرفُ اللَيالي وَهوَ مِن بَعضِ حُبِّهِ
With his valor the saddle-girths between
His noble deeds had eased his burdened soul
كَأَن لَم يَقُدها كَالأَجادِلِ سُرَّباً
وَيَرفَعُ قُبَّ اللَيلِ مِن نَقعِ قُبِّهِ
My father, soul guide, chose the straight path
Never yielding, softening his stance before a foe
وَلَم يَقرَعِ الأَسماعَ وَقعُ خِطابِهِ
وَلَم يَطرُقِ الهَيجاءَ مَوقِعُ خَطبِهِ
Without him, the clan of Abdul-Hamid
Is like a mountain whose rocks have crumbled
وَلا كانَ يَومَ الدَستِ صاحِبَ صَدرِهِ
وَلِلجَيشِ يَومَ الحَربِ مَركَزُ قُطبِهِ
Snatched from his tribe by his enemies
Ambushed by fate without his friends
أَتَعتَزُّهُ الأَعداءُ في يَومِ لَهوِهِ
فَهَلّا أَتوهُ جَحفَلاً يَومَ حَربِهِ
In a state where the wolf roams unfettered amidst his flock
Under a king who robs the lion of his catch
وَلَم أَرَ قَبلَ اليَومِ لَيثَ عَريكَةٍ
أَذاقَتهُ طَعمَ المَوتِ عَضَّةُ كَلبِهِ
And kills those terrorized by his fearful reign
Had the sun of truth and faith witnessed
وَلَو كانَ مابَينَ الصَوارِمِ وَالقَنا
وَفَوقَ مُتونِ الخَيلِ إِدراكُ نَحبِهِ
The death of the mourned, when mourners mourned
It would have wept with the tongues of swords and spears
لَكانَ جَميلَ الذِكرِ عَن حُسنِ فِعلِهِ
يُنَفِّسُ عَن قَلبِ الفَتى بَعضَ كَربِهِ
With tears spilling from the hilts over its cheeks
أَبِيُّ قِيادِ النَفسِ آثَرَ حَنفَهُ
وَلَم يُبدِ يَوماً لِلعِدى لَينَ جَنبِهِ
Launching a raid on the caves of 'Udhra
So narrow with him their vast breadth
كَأَنَّ بَني عَبدِ الحَميدِ لِفَقدِهِ
ذُرى جَبَلٍ هُدَّت جَلامِدُ هَضبِهِ
Making the lions' cheeks wonder at his stabs
Arabizing the zebras with his blows
أَتَسلُبُهُ الأَعداءُ مِن بَينَ رَهطِهِ
وَتَغتالُهُ الأَيّامُ مِن دونِ صَحبِهِ
Not a drop but from his spears' tips
No shape but by the blows of his wrath
وَتَفقُدُهُ في دَولَةٍ ظاهِرِيَّةٍ
بِها الذِئبُ يَعدو رائِعاً بَينَ سِربِهِ
Father of war, take it as your craft
بِدَولَةِ مَلكٍ يَغصِبُ اللَيثَ قُوتَهُ
وَيَقتُلُ مَن يَلقاهُ شِدَّةُ رُعبِهِ
Changing the bitter words about you to sweet
Ghiyath al-Din's deeds have earned gratitude
فَلَو كانَ شَمسُ الحَقِّ وَالدينِ شاهِداً
لِمَصرَعِ ذاكَ النَدبِ ساعَةَ نَدبِهِ
Crowning his comrades with favors
His passing is mourned but he lives on in memory
بَكاهُ بِأَطرافِ الأَسِنَّةِ وَالظُبى
بِدَمعٍ مِنَ اللَبّاتِ مَسقِطُ سَكبِهِ
Our mouths won't stop grieving though his grief is done
Since his loved ones bid farewell at his grave
وَشَنَّ عَلى عُربِ العَذارينَ غارَةً
يَضيقُ بِها في البَرِّ واسِعُ رَحبِهِ
God's pardon welcomes him in his shroud
His tomb is watered by the rain of sadness
فَتَعجَبُ لَبّاتُ الكُماةِ بِطَعنِهِ
وَيُعرِبُ هاماتِ الحُماةِ بِضَربِهِ
Its edges soaked by its copious train
Strangely, though above his grave
فَلا نَقطَ إِلّا مِن سِنانِ قَناتِهِ
وَلا شَكلَ إِلّا مِن مَضارِبِ عَضبِهِ
The clouds and from the living I ask his Lord's rain
أَبا الحَربِ بادِر وَاِتَّخِذها صَنيعَةً
تُبَدِّلُ مُرَّ القَولِ فيكُم بِعَذبِهِ
فَكَم لِغِياثِ الدينِ مِن حَقِّ مِنَّةٍ
تُطَوِّقُ بِالأَنعامِ أَعناقَ صَحبِهِ
قَضى نَحبَهُ وَالذِكرُ مِنهُ مُخَلَّدٌ
بِأَفواهِنا لَم يَقضِ يَوماً لِنَحبِهِ
وَمُذ رَجَعَت أَترابُهُ مِن وَداعِهِ
تَلَقّاهُ في أَكفانِهِ عَفوُ رَبِّهِ
سَقى قَبرَهُ مِن صَيِّبِ المُزنِ وابِلٌ
يَجُرُّ عَلى أَرجائِهِ ذَيلَ خَصبِهِ
وَمِن عَجَبٍ أَنَّ السَحابَ بِقَبرِهِ
وَأَسأَلُ مِن صَوبِ الحَيا رَيَّ رَبِّهِ
