ألا تستنطق الدمن الخوالي — Abu Abahr Alkhti

أَلا تَسْتنطقُ الدِمَنَ الخَوَالي

فَنَسْألُها عن الحيِّ الحِلالِ

Will you not make the deserted ruins speak,

so we may ask them of the tribe once camped there?

أَبَتْ إلاَّ أَثَافي جَاثِمَاتٍ

على الكَانُونِ كالخَدَمِ الصَّوَالي

They yielded nothing but hearthstones crouching

upon the hearth like servants warming themselves,

وأشعثَ غيرَ مَمْسُوسٍ بدُهْنٍ

ولا عَبَثَتْ بِهِ أيدي الغوالي

and a shaggy one, untouched by oil,

nor have the hands of rich perfumes toyed with it.

عَوَاطِلُ بَعدَمَا كانتْ زَمَاناً

بأُنْسِ القَاطِنينَ بها حَوَالي

Unadorned now, though once, for a time,

adorned by the companionship of those who dwelt there.

دعاهُم رَيْبُ دهْرِهِمُ فَبَانُوا

سِرَاعاً والمقيمُ إلى ارتِحَالِ

Time's vicissitudes called them, and they departed

swiftly; even those who stay are bound to leave.

ولا تبقَى على الحَدَثَانِ شُمُّ الْ

هِضَابِ ولا مُنيفاتُ القِلالِ

Nor, against time's calamities, endure the towering—

ridges, nor the lofty summits.

فَعَدِّ على الدِّيَارِ فإنَّ خَطْباً

تَوَخَّانا بهِ صَرْفُ الليالي

So pass beyond the dwellings, for a calamity

has been aimed at us by the reversals of the nights.

أَطَارَ كَرَى العُيُونِ فَخِيطَ جَفْنٌ

على سَهَرٍ وَقَلْبٍ باشْتِغَالِ

It drove sleep from our eyes: an eyelid was stitched

to wakefulness, and a heart to anxious care.

وبَيَّضَ لِمَّةً وأَحَالَ وَجْهاً

كَأَنَّ الوجْهَ يُصبَغُ بالقَذَالِ

And it whitened a head of hair and altered a face,

as though that face were stained with qadhāl dye.

غَدَاةَ نُعِي لَنَا حَسَنٌ وقَالُوا

هَوَى من أفْقِهِ نَجْمُ المَعَالي

On the morning Hasan's death was announced to us, they said:

'The star of noble virtues has fallen from its horizon.'

فَظَلْنَا حِينَ جَدَّ بنا نَعَاهُ

وقد ضَاقَتْ بِنا سَعَةُ المَجَالِ

We were left, when news of his death struck us hard,

with the wide expanse grown narrow around us,

كَشَرْبٍ طَوَّحتْ بِهِمُ شَمُولٌ

فَطَاحُوا لليَمينِ وللشِمَالِ

like drinkers tossed about by wine,

tumbling to the right and to the left.

نَلُوذُ إذَا غَليلُ الحُزْنِ أَغْرَى

لَظَاهُ بنا إلى الدمْعِ المُذَالِ

We seek refuge, when grief's burning thirst unleashes

its blaze against us, in tears freely shed.

سَلِ الأَجْدَاثَ مَاذَا أَوْدَعُوهُ

بِها من شُهْرَةٍ وظُهُورِ حَالِ

Ask the graves what they laid away

within them of renown and manifest standing,

وما واروهُ فيها من جَميلٍ

بهِ يُبْكَى عَلَيهِ ومن جَمَالِ

and what excellence they buried there,

for which he is mourned, and what beauty.

أَوالدَهُ ولَسْتَ تُلامُ عندي

سِوَى شَيءٍ على وَجْهِ السُّؤَالِ

O his father, you are not to blame in my eyes,

save for one thing, put as a question:

عَلامَ غَسلتَهُ من كلِّ عَيْبٍ

فجاءَ كقطرةِ الماءِ الزُلالِ

Why did you wash him clean of every fault,

so he emerged like a drop of pure water?

فَهَلاَّ كُنتَ تتركُ فيهِ عيباً

فَكَانَ يقيهِ من عَينِ الكَمَالِ

Why did you not leave some flaw in him,

which might have shielded him from perfection's evil eye?

أَلاَ قُولوا لِحِمْيَرَ حَيثُ كَانتْ

أُولي العَزَمَاتِ والهِمَمِ العَوَالي

Tell Himyar, wherever they may be—

those of firm resolve and lofty aspirations,

وفُرْسَانِ الحروبِ إذَا تداعتْ

فَوَارِسُهَا بحيَّ عَلَى النِزَالِ

and war's horsemen, when

their riders call one another: 'Come to battle!'

أَصَابكُمُ الحِمَامُ فلم يَهَبْكُمْ

بِأَشْرَفِ أوّلٍ فيكُمْ وتَالي

Death has struck you without fearing you,

taking the noblest among you, first and last:

فَتًى عُظَمَاءُ بلدتِهِ عِيَالٌ

عليهِ في المهَابَةِ والجَلالِ

a youth whose town's great men were dependents

upon him in awe and majesty,

على حينِ استتبَّ لَهُ عُلاهُ

وقِيلَ قد استوَى ضَوْءُ الهِلالِ

just when his eminence was firmly established,

and they said, 'The crescent's light has reached its fullness.'

أَمَا لو كان ثَأراً عندَ غيرِ الْ

مَنيَّةِ والنفوسُ إلى زَوَالِ

Ah, were the blood-debt owed by anyone but—

Death—and souls are bound to pass away—

لأَوجفْنَا عليهِ الخَيلَ شُعْثاً

تُعادي في الأَعِنَّةِ كالسَّعَالي

we would have urged shaggy horses against him,

racing in their reins like she-ghouls.

إذَا أَرسَلْتَهنَّ وراءَ نَبْلٍ

تَجَاوزتِ المدَى قَبلَ النِّبَالِ

If you loosed them after arrows,

they would pass the arrows' range before the arrows reached it.

عليها كلُّ ضِرْغَامٍ إذَا ما

استطالَ السِّلْمَ حَنَّ إلى القِتَالِ

Upon them rides every lion who, whenever

peace seems long, yearns for battle.

وَأجْلَبنَا بِبِيضِ الهِنْدِ تُدْمَى

مَضَارِبُهُنَّ والسُّمْرِ الطِّوَالِ

And we would have advanced with bright Indian blades, bloodied

at their striking edges, and long brown spears.

خليليَّ ازْجُرَا السُّحْبَ الغَوَادِي

على ما تشتكِيهِ من الكَلالِ

My two friends, urge on the morning clouds,

despite the weariness of which they complain:

بطيئاتٍ تنوءُ إذا استُثيرتْ

من السُّقْيَا بأَعْبَاءٍ ثِقَالِ

slow-moving, laboring when roused,

beneath heavy burdens of rain.

إِذَا جَاوَزْنَ سِيْفَ أوالَ صُبْحاً

وشَارفنَ القطيفَ مع الزَّوَالِ

When they pass Awal's shore in the morning,

and near al-Qatif at midday,

فَصَبّاً ما حَمَلْنَ من الرَّوَايَا

على قَبْرٍ بِجَرْعَاءَ الشِّمَالِ

let them empty the water-skins they carry

upon a grave in Jar'a al-Shimal,

وتحبُسُ نَفْسَها أبداً عَلَيهِ

عُكُوفَ المُرْضِعَاتِ على الفِصَالِ

and keep themselves over it forever,

as nursing camels linger over their calves,

بحيثُ يُشَقُّ يَومَ البَعْثِ رَطْباً

بما قد أَسْأَرتْهُ من البِلالِ

so that it opens on Resurrection Day still moist

with the wetness they have left behind.

أرَى الأَيَّامَ تُقْسِمُ ظالماتٍ

فتبدلُنا الأَسَافِلَ بالأَعَالي

I see the days apportioning unjustly:

they give us the lowly in exchange for the lofty,

فتتركُ من تَرَاهُ النَّاسُ كَلاَّ

على المولَى وتذْهبُ بالمَوَالِي

leaving those whom people see as a burden

upon a patron, and carrying off the patrons.

فيا ابنَ أبي سِنَانَ وكلُّ ثَاوٍ

وإنْ طَالَ المدَى فإلى انتقالِ

O son of Abu Sinan—every dweller,

however long the span, is bound to move away—

عَزَاءً فالنفوسُ إلى فَنَاءٍ

وصَبْراً فالقَطينُ إلى زِيَالِ

take consolation, for souls are bound for extinction,

and be patient, for those who dwell are bound to part.

فمثلُكَ تَسْتمِدُّ الصَّبْرَ منهُ

عَلى البَأْسَاءِ أَعْيَانُ الرجَالِ

For from one like you, patience is drawn

in adversity by the foremost men.

فما دُفِعَ امرؤٌ يوماً إلى ما

دُفِعْتَ له ولستَ من الحُبالِ

For no man was ever driven into what

you have faced—and you are not among the senseless.

صَبَرْتَ وليسَ ذلكَ عَنْ سُلُوٍّ

طُوِي عَنْهُ الأَسَى لَكنْ تَسَالي

You bore it patiently, not through forgetfulness

with grief put away, but by striving for solace,

على ما نَابَ من نَفْسٍ وآلٍ

كما شَمِتَ العُدُوُّ بهِ ومَالِ

for what befell you in person and kin,

and wealth, while the enemy gloated over it:

جراحٌ لا تطيبُ وفَوْتُ مَالٍ

يَضِيقُ بهِ الفضاءُ وفقدُ آلِ

wounds that do not heal, and loss of wealth

that constricts the open world, and loss of kin.

فلستُمْ بالقطيفِ أشَدَّ حزناً

عليهِ اليومَ مِنَّا في أُوَال

You in al-Qatif are no more deeply grieved

for him today than we in Awal.

لنا مُهَجٌ تَذُوبُ عليهِ حَرَّى

وإنْ فَاءَتْ إلى بَرْدِ الظِّلالِ

Our hearts melt for him, burning hot,

even when they return to the coolness of shade.

أَمَا والراقصاتِ كَأَنَّ وَحْشاً

تندُّ بما حَمَلنَ من الرِّجَالِ

Ah, by the dancing camels, as though wild beasts

were bolting with the men they bear:

إِذَا شَارَفْنَ مَكَّةَ كِدْنَ شَوْقاً

يَطِرْنَ وإنْ عُقِلْنَ مَعَ العِقَالِ

when they draw near Mecca, they almost, in longing,

take wing, even though bound in their hobbles.

عَلَيها كلُّ عُرْيَانِ الضَّواحي

كَنَصْلِ السَّيْفِ حُودِثَ بالصِّقَالِ

On them rides every bare-limbed man,

like a sword-blade kept freshly polished.

إذا اسْتَجلَى البنيّةَ من بَعِيدٍ

تَرَاءَى كالمطيَّةِ في الجَلالِ

When he beholds the Sacred House from afar,

he appears like his mount in its saddlecloths,

تَرَدَّى عن رحالتها نُزُولاً

وأكثرَ من دُعَاءٍ وابْتِهالِ

drops down from its saddle,

and multiplies his prayers and supplications.

وطَوَّفَ حَوْلَها سَبْعاً وأَدَّى

مَنَاسِكَهُ وفَاءَ إلى انفِتَالِ

He circles it seven times and performs

his rites, then turns back to depart.

لقد عَقَدَتْ لَكَ الأيامُ مِنِّي

وَفَاءً غَيْرَ مُنْصَرِمِ الحِبَالِ

The days have indeed bound for you, from me,

a loyalty whose cords remain unbroken.

فَسَهْمي فَوقَ سَهْمِكَ في سُرُورٍ

يَسُرُّكَ حَيْثُ كُنتَ وشُغْلِ بالِ

My share is greater than yours in joy

that gladdens you, wherever you are, and in anxious care.

ودونَكَ من خبيرٍ بالتعازِي

رُقَىً تعدُو على الدَّاءِ العُضَالِ

And take, from one versed in consolations,

charms that assail the incurable affliction:

تَعزٍّ لو رقَى يعقوبُ منهُ

ببيتٍ أو أقَلَّ لَظَلَّ سَالِي

a consolation—had Jacob chanted from it

a verse, or less, he would have remained consoled.

وَعَدِّ عن استماعِكَ شِعْرَ غَيري

فأينَ حَصَى الطريقِ منَ اللآلي

And turn away from listening to others' poetry:

how can roadside pebbles compare with pearls?

مَكَانُ قريضِ غيري من قريضي

مَكَانُ النَّغْلِ من وَلَدِ الحَلالِ

The place of others' verse beside my own

is a bastard's beside a child of lawful birth.