كشفت حجاب السجف عن بيضة الخدر — Abn Matouk

كشفْتُ حجابَ السّجْفِ عن بيضةِ الخِدْرِ

فزحْزَحْتُ جنحَ الليلِ عن طلعةِ البَدْرِ

I lifted the curtain's veil from the fair maiden of the inner chamber.

Thus I drew night's wing aside from the face of the full moon.

وهتَكْتُ عن سِينِ الثّنايا لِثامَها

فأبصَرْتُ عينَ الخَضْرِ في ظُلمةِ الشَّعْرِ

And I tore her veil from the sīn-shaped row of her front teeth,

And saw al-Khidr's spring amid the darkness of her hair.

وجاذَبْتُها سودَ الذّوائِبِ فاِنثَنى

عليَّ قضيبُ البانِ في الحُلَلِ الخُضْرِ

I tugged at her black tresses, and there bent

Toward me a moringa bough in robes of green.

وقبّلْتُ منها وجنةً دونَ وَرْدِها

وتقبيلِها شوكُ المثقّفةِ السُّمرِ

I kissed a cheek of hers; between its roses

And the kiss stood the thorns of straightened brown spears.

تأتّيْتُها في الليلِ كالصّقْرِ كاسِراً

وقد خفَقَتْ في الجنْحِ أجنحةُ النّسْرِ

I made my way to her at night like a swooping falcon,

While the eagle's wings fluttered in the darkness.

وخُضْتُ إليها الحَتْفَ حتّى كأنّني

أُفتِّشُ أحشاءَ المنيّةِ عن سِرّي

I plunged through death to reach her, until it seemed

I was searching death's entrails for my secret.

وشافَهْتُ أحراساً إلى ضوءِ وجهِها

يرَوْنَ سَوادَ الطّيفِ إذ نحوَها يَسْري

And I faced guards on my way toward the light of her face,

Who see a phantom's dark shape as it steals toward her.

فنبّهْتُ منها نرجِساً زرّهُ الكَرى

كأنّي أفُضّ الخَتم عن قدَحَيْ خَمْرِ

Then I awakened her narcissus, which sleep had buttoned shut,

As though I were breaking the seal on two cups of wine.

وبِتْنا وقلْب الليلِ يكتُمُنا معاً

وغُرّتُها عندَ الوُشاةِ بنا تُغري

We spent the night together, while night's heart concealed us,

Yet her radiant brow incited the tale-bearers against us.

إذا الصُّبْحُ في الظَّلْماءِ غارَ غدير

فمن ضوئِها لجُّ السّرابِ بنا يَسري

When dawn sinks like a pool into the darkness,

A sea of mirage from her light flows around us.

فلو لم تردُّ الليلَ صَبغةُ فرعِها

عليها لكانَ الحيُّ في سِرِّنا يَدري

Had the hue of her tresses not brought night back

Over her, the tribe would have known our secret.

وباتَتْ تحلّي السّمعَ منّا بلُؤلؤٍ

على عِقْدِها المنظومِ منثورُه يُزري

She spent the night adorning our hearing with pearls,

Whose loose gems put her strung necklace to shame.

كِلانا له منّا نصيبٌ فجامدٌ

على نحرِها يزهو وجارٍ على نحري

Each of us has a share of them: some are solid,

Shining on her throat, and some flow upon mine.

تبارَك مَنْ قد علّم الظّبيَ منطِقاً

وسُبحانَ مُجري الروحِ في دُميةِ القَصْرِ

Blessed is He who taught the gazelle speech,

And glory to Him who sent the spirit flowing into the palace's statue.

بروحيَ منها طلعةٌ كلّما اِنْجلَتْ

تشمّتَ في موتِ الدُجى هاتِفُ القُمْري

With my soul I would ransom her face; whenever it shines forth,

The calling turtledove gloats over the death of darkness.

ونُقطةُ خالٍ من عبيرٍ بخدّها

كحبّةِ قلبٍ أجّجَتْهُ يدُ الذِكْرِ

And the perfumed dot of a beauty mark upon her cheek

Is like a heart's kernel kindled by remembrance's hand.

خلَتْ من سِواها مُهجتي فتوطّنَتْ

بها والمَهى لم ترْضَ داراً سوى القصْرِ

My heart emptied itself of all but her, and she settled

Within it—for the oryx would accept no dwelling but a palace.

كأنّ فمي من ذكرِ فيها وطيبِهِ

قرارَةُ بيتِ النّحلِ أو دارةُ العِطرِ

As though my mouth, from mentioning her mouth and its sweetness,

Were the hollow of a beehive, or a circle of perfume.

أروحُ وجسمي كلُّه طَرْفُ عندَمٍ

إذا خدُّها في القلب صوّرَهُ فِكري

I go about, my whole body a sprig of crimson dye-wood,

Whenever my thoughts picture her cheek in my heart.

أردتُ بها التّشبيبَ في وزْنِ شَعْرِها

فغزّلْتُ في البحر الطويلِ من الشِّعرِ

I wished to sing her beauty in the measure of her hair,

So I composed love verse in the Tawil, the Long meter.

وصُغْتُ الرُقى إذ علّمَتْني جُفونُها

بناءَ القَوافي السّاحراتِ على الكَسْرِ

I fashioned charms, since her eyelids had taught me

To build bewitching rhymes upon the kasra vowel.

أُجانِسُ باللّفظِ الرّقيقِ خُدودَها

وألحَظُ بالمعنى الدّقيق إلى الخَصرِ

With delicate wording I match her cheeks,

And with subtle meaning I glance toward her waist.

أمَا والهَوى العُذريّ لولا جَبينُها

لما رُحْتُ في حُبّي لها واضحَ العُذْرِ

Indeed, by chaste Udhri love—were it not for her brow,

I would not go about with so clear an excuse for loving her.

ولولا اللآلي البيضُ بين شِفاهِها

لما جادَ دَمعي من يَواقِيتِه الحُمْرِ

And were it not for the white pearls between her lips,

My tears would not have poured forth their red rubies.

شُغِفْتُ بها حُبّاً فرقّتْ رَقائِقي

وملّكْتُ رقّي حيدراً فسَما قَدْري

Love for her enthralled me, and my tender verses softened;

I gave Haydar mastery over my servitude, and my standing rose.

خُلاصةُ أبناءِ الكِرامِ مطهراً

سُلالةُ آباءٍ مطهّرةٍ غُرِّ

The choicest of the sons of noble men, purified,

A scion of purified, illustrious forefathers;

حليفُ النّدى والبأسِ والحلمِ والنّهى

أخو العدلِ والإحسانِ والعَفْو والبِرِّ

An ally of generosity, valor, forbearance, and wisdom,

A brother to justice, beneficence, forgiveness, and righteousness.

جمالُ جَبينِ البدرِ والنيرُ الّذي

بطَلعتِه قد أشرقَتْ غُرّة الدّهرِ

The beauty of the full moon's brow, and the luminary whose

Appearance has made the brow of time shine forth.

فتىً جاء والأيّامُ سودٌ وجوهُها

فأصبحَ كالتّوريدِ في وَجنةِ العصرِ

A youth who came when the days' faces were black,

And became a rosy flush upon the cheek of the age.

وأضحَتْ وجوهُ المَكرُماتِ قريرةً

بمولدِه والصّدرُ منشرح الصّدرِ

The faces of noble deeds grew glad

At his birth, and the chief was gladdened at heart.

وأينعَ من بعدِ الذّبولِ به النّدى

فغرّد في أفنانِه طائِرُ الشّكرِ

Generosity flourished through him after its withering,

And the bird of gratitude sang among its branches.

ووافى المَعالي بعد تشتيت شملِها

فأحسَنَ منها النّظْمَ بالنّائِلِ النَثْري

He came to lofty honors after their company had scattered,

And finely strung them together with his scattered gifts.

أرقُّ من الرّاحِ الشَّمولِ شَمائِلاً

وألطَفُ خُلقاً من نَسيم الهوى العُذري

More tender in disposition than heady wine,

And gentler in character than the breeze of chaste love.

إذا زيّن الأملاكَ حِليةُ مفخرٍ

ففيهِ وفي آبائِه زينةُ الفخرِ

If kings are adorned by an ornament of glory,

In him and his forefathers glory finds its ornament.

تكلّمُهُ في الصّدقِ آياتُ سورةٍ

ولكنّه في السّمعِ في صورةِ السِّحرِ

His speech, in its truth, is a surah's verses,

Yet to the ear it takes the form of magic.

تُسمّيه باِسمِ الجدِّ عِندي كنايةٌ

كما يتسمّى صاحبُ الجودِ بالبحرِ

To me, an allusive epithet names him by his grandfather's name,

As a generous man is called the sea.

إذا بأبيهِ قستَ مِصباحَ نورِه

تيقّنتَه من ذلك الكوكبِ الدُرّي

If you compare the lamp of his light with his father,

You know it comes from that pearl-bright star.

يرِقُّ ويصبو رحمةً وصَلابةً

فيجري كما تجري العيونُ من الصّخرِ

He grows tender and yearns, merciful yet firm,

And flows as springs flow from rock.

سَما للعُلا والشُهْبُ تطلبُ شأوَه

فعبّر عند السّبْقِ عن جهةِ الغَفْرِ

He rose to the heights while the stars pursued his reach,

And, outstripping them, passed beyond the region of al-Ghafr.

فلو كان حوضُ المُزْنِ مثل يمينِه

لما هطلَتْ إلّا بمُستَحْسَنِ الدُرِّ

If the rain clouds' basin were like his right hand,

They would rain down nothing but exquisite pearls.

ولو مَنبِتُ الزّقّومِ يُسْقى بجودِه

لما كان إلّا منبِتَ الوردِ والزّهرِ

If the ground where zaqqum grows were watered by his bounty,

It would grow nothing but roses and blossoms.

يهزُّ سُيوفَ الهِندِ وهْيَ جَداولٌ

فتقذِفُ في أمواجِها شُعَلَ الجَمْرِ

He brandishes Indian swords, and they are streams,

Casting flames of glowing coals amid their waves.

ويحملُ أغصانَ القَنا وهْيَ ذُبَّلٌ

فتحمِلُ في راحاتِه ثمرَ النّصرِ

He bears the boughs of spears, though they are withered,

And in his palms they bear the fruit of victory.

ويسفِرُ عن ديباجَتَيْهِ لِثامَهُ

فيُلبِسُ عِطفَ الليل ديباجةَ الفخرِ

He draws his veil away from his two brocade-like cheeks,

And clothes the flank of night in the brocade of glory.

ويسلُبُ نحرَ الأفْق حِليةَ شُهبِه

فيُغنيهِ عنها في خلائِقِه الزُّهْرُ

He strips the horizon's throat of its ornament of stars,

And the radiance of his character makes it need them no longer.

سحابٌ إذا ما جاءَ يوماً تنوّرَتْ

رياضُ الأماني البيضِ بالورَقِ الصُفْرِ

A cloud: on any day he comes, there glow

The gardens of white hopes with yellow leaves.

بوارِقُه بيضُ الحَديدِ لدى الوَغى

ووابِلُه في سِلمِه خالصُ التِّبرِ

His lightning flashes are white blades of steel in battle,

And in peace his downpour is pure gold.

له فطْنةٌ يومَ القَضا عندَ لبسِه

تُفرِّقُ ما بينَ السُّلافةِ والسُّكْرِ

He has discernment when judging, amid uncertainty,

That distinguishes the choicest wine from drunkenness.

وعزمٌ يُذيبُ الرّاسياتِ إذا سطا

فتجري كما يجري السَّحابُ منَ الذُّعرِ

And a resolve that melts firm-rooted mountains when it assails,

So they flow as clouds flow, out of terror.

وعدلٌ بلا نارٍ وضربٍ يكادُ أن

يقوَّمَ فيه الإعوجاج من البُتْرِ

And a justice that, without fire or blows, can almost

Straighten through its power the crookedness of keen blades.

وسُخْطٌ لوَ اِنّ النّحلَ ترعى قَتادَه

لمجّتْهُ من أفواهِها سائِلَ الصّبْرِ

And a wrath: if bees grazed upon its thorn-bushes,

They would spit it from their mouths as liquid aloe.

ولُطفٌ لوَ انّ الرُّقْشَ فيه ترشّفَتْ

لبُدِّلَ منها السّمُّ بالسّكّرِ المِصري

And a kindness: if speckled snakes sipped of it,

Their venom would be replaced with Egyptian sugar.

يُعيدُ رُفاتَ المُعتفين كأنّما

تفجّرَ في راحاتِه مورِدُ الخِضْرِ

He revives the crumbled bones of supplicants, as though

Al-Khidr's spring had burst forth in his palms.

إذا مرَّ ذكرُ الفاخرينَ فذِكْرُه

كفاتحةِ القرآنِ في أوّل الذِّكْرِ

When those who boast are mentioned, his mention

Is like the Quran's Opening at the beginning of recitation.

فيا اِبْنَ عليٍّ وهيَ دعوةُ مُخلصٍ

لدولتِكُم بالسّرِّ منه وبالجَهْرِ

O son of Ali—and this is the prayer of one devoted

To your rule, offered by him in secret and aloud—

لقد زادَتِ الأيّامُ فيكَ مسرّةً

وفاقَ على وجهِ العُلا رونقُ البِشْرِ

Indeed, the days have grown more joyful through you,

And on the face of eminence, gladness shines supreme.

وعزّتْ بكَ الأيّامُ حتّى كأنّما

لياليكَ فيها كلُّها ليلةُ القَدْرِ

Through you the days have grown glorious, until it seems

All your nights within them are the Night of Decree.

ففي يدِكَ اليُمنى المنيّةُ والمُنى

ويُمْنٌ لمن يَبغي الأمانَ منَ الفَقْرِ

For in your right hand lie death and wishes,

And good fortune for whoever seeks safety from poverty.

فلا برِحَتْ فيكَ العُلا ذات بهجةٍ

ولا زالَ فيكَ المجدُ مُبتسمَ الثّغرِ

So may eminence never cease to be joyful in you,

And may glory in you always wear a smile.