يذكرني الحمى عهد الوصال — Al Bakhrzi

يُذكِّرني الحِمى عهدَ الوصالِ

وأيامَ الشبابِ ومَن بِها لي

The protected grounds remind me of the time of union,

And youth's days, and the one who was mine then,

وسلمى والسّلامةَ هواها

ونعمى والنعيمَ بلا زوالِ

And Salma, whose love was well-being,

And Nu'ma, and bliss without end;

وهَصري غُصنَ ذابلةِ التثنِّي

وقَطْفي وردَ ناضِرِةِ الجَمالِ

And my bending the bough of a slender, swaying woman,

And my plucking roses from one radiant in beauty,

ورَشفي حيثُ يبتسمُ الأقاحي

وشَمِّي حيثُ تَنْعجنُ الغَوالي

And my sipping where the daisies smile,

And my inhaling where precious perfumes are kneaded;

وتَركي الزُّهد في راحٍ شمولٍ

ورَفْضي النُّسكَ في ريحٍ شمالِ

And my forsaking asceticism amid heady wine,

And my renouncing devotion in a north wind;

وحبِّي شربَ ياقوتٍ مُذابٍ

يَرضُّ المزجُ فيهِ حصى اللآلي

And my love of drinking molten ruby,

In which the mixing crushes pebbles of pearl;

وهزِّي العطفَ في غَفَلاتِ عيشٍ

وريقِ الأيكِ مَمْطورِ الظِّلالِ

And my swaying my body in life's heedless moments,

Leafy in its groves, rain-drenched in its shade.

فها أنا من لُبابِ العُمرِ أشجى

إذا هجستْ خواطرُها ببالي

So here I am, grieving for life's prime,

Whenever thoughts of those days stir in my mind.

وأجتلبُ الشجونَ وأينَ صَبري

وأَحتلبُ الشؤونَ وكيفَ حالي

And I summon sorrows—where is my patience?

And I milk my tear-ducts—how do I fare?

وتَذوي مُهجتي واشتْف لَوني

وتَدمَى مُقلتي وسَلِ الليالي

And my heart withers—look closely at my complexion;

And my eye bleeds—ask the nights.

فخَدِّي الزعفرانُ ولا أًحاشي

ودَمعي الأرجوانُ ولا أُبالي

So my cheek is saffron; I make no exception,

And my tears are crimson; I do not care.

أُحاكي الوردَ ذا الوجهين يُحْذى

معاً في الصبغتينِ على مثاليِ

I resemble the two-faced rose, modeled

In both its hues at once upon my likeness.

وكيفَ يُرَدُّ لي ما فاتَ منِّي

وردٌّ الغاَنياتِ منَ المُحالِ

And how can what has slipped from me be restored to me?

And bringing back the beauties is impossible.

وما للمُفلسينَ سوى التَمنِّي

وما للنّائمينَ سِوى الخَيالِ

And the bankrupt have nothing but wishes,

And sleepers have nothing but dreams.

ذَوى الشّعرُ البنفسجُ في عِذاري

وزاحَمَهُ ثَغامُ الاكتهال

The violet hair of my sideburns has withered,

And middle age's white thagham grass crowds it.

وكدّ تفاوتُ الحطّينِ قَلبي

وخاطَ علي أثوابَ الخَبالِ

And the contrast between the two streaks has wearied my heart,

And sewn upon me the garments of madness.

فَخيطٌ دب بدءُ الشيبِ فيهِ

دبيبَ النارِ في طرفِ الذبالِ

One strand: the onset of gray has crept along it,

Like fire creeping into the tips of wicks.

وآخرُ فاحمٌ كالفَحمِ جانٍ

على جارٍ بحرِّ النارِ صالِ

And another, jet-black as coal, inflicts harm

Upon a neighbor scorched by the fire's heat.

يُحاذرُ أنْ يصابَ وغيرُ بدعٍ

لجارِ النارِ عدوى الإشتعالِ

It fears being struck; it is no wonder

For fire's neighbor to catch the contagion of burning.

فذي ظلمُ الشبابِ على صَداها

ضياءُ الشيبِ حودِثَ بالصقالِ

So these are youth's dark shadows; upon their rust

Gray hair's radiance has been refreshed by polishing.

تُرى تلكَ العهود تعودُ يوماً

وحال الوصلِ يلقحُ عن حِيالِ

Will those days, I wonder, return one day,

And union's state become fertile after barrenness,

وينسَى البينُ عادَتَهُ وتَنْجو

منَ الأقتابِ أسنمةُ الجِمالِ

And separation forget its habit, and escape

From pack-saddles the humps of camels,

فتُعْمَرُ باللِّوى تلكَ المَغاني

وتَرجعُ بالحمى تلكَ الليالي

Then those dwellings at al-Liwa be inhabited again,

And those nights return in the protected grounds?

رَخيمُ الدلِّ مكسالُ التّهادي

طويلُ الذيلِ صَرارُ النِّعالِ

Soft in coquetry, languid in his swaying,

Long of hem, with creaking sandals,

يرقِّقُ طَبعَي المأيوسَ عنهُ

ويشحذُ غَرْبَهُ بعدَ الكلالِ

He softens my temperament, once despaired of,

And whets its edge after it has dulled.

فينشطُ لاختراعِ الشعرِ عقلي

ويَنشطني البَيانُ منَ العِقالِ

Then my mind quickens to invent poetry,

And eloquence releases me from my tether.

وأطنِب في ثناءِ أبي عليٍّ

نظامِ الملك نَظّامِ المعالي

And I dwell at length on the praise of Abu Ali,

Nizam al-Mulk, arranger of exalted virtues.

فتىً كالليثِ مَشبوبُ المآتي

فتىً كالقرمِ محذورُ الصِّيالِ

A youth like a lion, fiery in his approaches,

A youth like a stallion-camel, whose charge is feared.

وتسخَر كفُّهُ والبحرُ فيها

بِمَن شامَ السّحائبَ للنّوالِ

And his hand, holding the sea, mocks

Those who scan the clouds for bounty.

ويُعلى كعبَهُ عِرضٌ مَصونٌ

مُعَوَّلُهُ على مالٍ مُذالِ

And an inviolate honor raises his standing,

Its reliance is on wealth freely expended.

أعارَ عَواطِلَ الآدابِ عيناً

تُراعيها فهُن بهِ حَوالِ

He lent the unadorned literary arts an eye

To watch over them; through him they are adorned.

وعطرّ شعرَ صدغَيْها بمِسْكٍ

ونقّطَ وردَ خدَّيْها بخالِ

And perfumed the hair at their temples with musk,

And dotted the roses of their cheeks with a beauty spot.

وبَوَّءَ وفدَها كنفاً رَحيباً

مرودَ العُشبِ مَورودَ الزُّلالِ

And lodged their delegation in a spacious refuge,

With grass sought for grazing and clear water sought for drinking.

حَراماً مثلَ بيتِ اللهِ يَشْدو

بسحرٍ في مناقِبهِ حَلالِ

A sanctuary like God's House, where one sings

With lawful magic in praise of his virtues.

يُسفُّ بهِ تواضُعُه فتَدْنو

مَقاطِعُهُ على بعدِ المنَالِ

His humility brings him low, and near draw

His concluding phrases, despite their lofty reach.

ويُظْهِرُ نطقُهُ إعجازَ عيسى

بردِّ الروحِ في الرّممِ البَوالي

And his speech displays the miracle of Jesus,

By restoring the spirit to decayed remains.

وأهداف الصوابِ مُغَربلاتٌ

بأقلامٍ لهُ مثل النِّبالِ

And the targets of right judgment are riddled

By his pens, like arrows.

يُفوِّقُها فلا تُخطي وتَمضي

مضاءَ القَعْضَبيّةِ في العَوالي

He nocks them; they never miss, and drive onward

With the piercing force of Qa'dabi points on spears.

بخطٍّ إثْمديِّ اللونِ يَشْفي

عيونَ الرُّمْدِ عندَ الاكتِحالِ

In handwriting the color of antimony, which heals

The eyes of the sore-eyed when applied as kohl.

فمن دالٍ تُصاغُ على اعتدالٍ

ومن ذالٍ تصانُ عنِ ابتِذالِ

Here is a dal, shaped with balance,

And a dhal, guarded from debasement.

وليس تحسُّ منه العينُ عَيباً

سوى المحذورِ من عينِ الكَمالِ

And the eye perceives no flaw in it,

Except the feared evil eye that perfection attracts.

تُساقُ إلى النّبيِّ بهِ صَلاةٌ

وتُعرفُ فيهِ قُدرةُ ذي الجَلالِ

Through it, a blessing is conveyed to the Prophet,

And in it the power of the Lord of Majesty is recognized.

ويثبتُ ركنُهُ في كلِّ خَطبٍ

تَزَلزلُ منهُ أركانُ الجِبالِ

And his pillar stands firm in every crisis

Before which the pillars of mountains tremble.

وما شَربَ الطّلا إلا استراحتْ

مسامعُهُ إلى نَغَمِ السُّؤالِ

And he never drinks wine without delight reaching

His ears in the melody of requests.

فكأسٌ في اليّمينِ يَميلُ مِنْها

إلى طربٍ وكيسٌ في الشمالِ

A cup in his right hand, from which he inclines

Toward rapture, and a purse in his left.

وإنْ برقَتْ غزالةُ وجْنتيْه

حسبتَ الشمسَ ناظرةَ الغَزالِ

And if the sun of his cheeks flashes,

You would take the sun for a gazelle's eye.

ويذهلُ عن نفائسِهِ بنفسٍ

تَرى الذكرَ المخلّدَ خَير مالِ

And he forgets his treasures, with a soul

That sees immortal renown as the finest wealth.

رماها بالعراءِ كما تَجافَتْ

عن البيضات حاضنةُ الرِّئالِ

He cast them into the open, just as she withdrew

From the eggs—the brooding mother of ostrich chicks.

أَمَولانا خدمتُك غيرَ وانٍ

وأُلْتُ إلى جَنابِكَ غيرَ آلِ

O our master, I have served you without flagging,

And sought refuge at your threshold, sparing no effort.

وجادَ رياضَ مَجدِكَ مِنَ ثَنائي

حياَ يَنْهلُّ مُنحلَّ العزالي

And the gardens of your glory were watered from my praise

By rain pouring down, its waterskin-spouts unbound.

فكم أنشدتُ بينَ يديْكَ شِعري

فلم يَخجل مَقامي من مَقالي

How often have I recited my verse before you,

And my standing never blushed at my speech.

ولي في صَنْعتي بُرهانُ موسى

وعندَ سوايَ تزويرُ الخيالِ

And in my craft I have Moses' proof,

While others offer counterfeit illusion.

وكم فحصتْ يدُ الأيّامِ عَنِّي

كأيْدي الخيلِ أبصرتِ المَخالي

And how often the hand of days has pawed at me,

Like horses' forelegs when they glimpse the feedbags.

فلذتُ ببابِ دارِكَ مُستجيراً

مُخلّى السربِ متسّعَ المَجالِ

So I sought refuge at the door of your house, asking protection,

My path clear, my range wide.

ونلتُ لدَيكَ رفعاً في مَحلِّي

تُناقضُهُ بوضعٍ في رِحالي

And with you I gained elevation in my standing,

Which you counter by setting gifts down in my saddlebags.

فعِشْ ما شِئتَ مَقْهورَ الأعادي

ودُمْ ما شِئتَ منصورَ الموَالي

So live as long as you wish, your enemies subdued,

And endure as long as you wish, your allies victorious.

وخُذ في مجلسِ الأنسِ المُهنّا

هلالاً في هلالٍ من هِلالِ

And take, in the gathering of happy fellowship,

A crescent in a crescent from a crescent.