يا حسن دير سعيد إذ حللت به — أبو عثمان الخالدي

يا حُسْنَ دَيْرِ سَعيدٍ إِذْ حَلَلْتَ بِهِ

والأَرْضُ والرَّوْضُ في وَشْيٍ وديباجِ

How lovely Sa'id's monastery was when you lodged there,

with earth and garden clothed in embroidery and brocade!

فَما تَرى غُصْناً إِلا وزَهْرَتُهُ

تَجْلوهُ في جُبَّةٍ مِنْها ودُوّاجِ

For you see no branch but its blossom

displays it in a robe and mantle of its own.

ولِلحَمائِمِ أَلْحانٌ تُذَكِّرُنا

أَحْبابَنا بَيْنَ أَرْمالٍ وأَهْزاجِ

And the doves have melodies that remind us

of our loved ones, amid ramal and hazaj rhythms.

ولِلنَسيمِ على الغُدْرانِ رَفْرَفَةٌ

يَزورُها فَتَلقَّاهُ بِأَمْواجِ

And the breeze flutters over the pools;

it visits them, and they greet it with waves.

والخمر تُجْلى عَلى خُطّابِها فَتَرى

عَرائِسَ الكَرْمِ قَدْ زُفَّتْ لأَزْواجِ

And wine is unveiled before its suitors, so you see

brides of the vine already led in procession to their husbands.

وكُلَّنا مِنْ أَكاليلِ البَهارِ عَلى

رُؤوسنا كَأَنوشِرْوان في التّاجِ

And all of us, with garlands of daisies upon

our heads, are like Anushirwan in his crown.

ونَحْنُ في فَلَكِ اللَّهْوِ المُحيطِ بِنا

كَأَنَّنا في سَماءٍ ذاتِ أَبْراجِ

And we are in the sphere of revelry that surrounds us,

as though we were in a sky with constellations.

ولَسْتُ أَنْسى نِدامي وَسطَ هَيْكَلِهِ

حَتّى الصَّباحِ غَزالاً طَرْفُهُ ساجِ

Nor do I forget my drinking within its sanctuary

until morning with a gazelle whose gaze was languid,

أَهَزُّ عِطْفَيْ قَضيبِ البانِ مُعْتَنِقاً

مِنْهُ وأَلْثُمُ عَيْنَيْ لُعْبَةِ العاجِ

swaying the two flanks of a bān-tree branch as I embraced

him, and kissing the two eyes of an ivory doll;

وقَوْلَتي والْتِفاتي عِنْدَ مُنْصَرَفي

والشَوْقُ يُزْعِجُ قَلْبي أَيَّ إِزْعاجِ

nor my words and my turning back as I departed,

while longing shook my heart—how fiercely!

يا دَيْرُ يا لَيْتَ داري في فِنائِكَ أَوْ

يا لَيْتَ أَنْكَ في دَرْبِ دَرّاجِ

"O monastery, would that my home were in your courtyard, or

oh, would that you were in Darraj Lane!"