رثاء تأخر عن وقته عاما.. عبدالباسط الساروت — Alarje

حياتُكَ لم تَطُلْ والموتُ حقُّ

وما الدنيا على أحدٍ تَرِقُّ

Your life did not last long, and death is certain.

And the world shows compassion to no one.

ولم تكُ واحداً يُنعى ويُنسى

ولكنْ ثورةً تفديكَ خَلْقُ

Nor were you merely someone to be mourned and forgotten,

But a revolution—people give their lives for you.

زهدتَ بأنْ تعيشَ فعشتَ حُرّاً

ومن يسعى ليبقى يُستَرقُّ!

You cared little for living, and so you lived free,

And whoever strives to stay alive is enslaved!

وإنّ الموتَ أشرفُ من حياةٍ

يسودُ بها على العُقلاءِ حُمْقُ

And indeed death is nobler than a life

In which folly rules over the wise.

لعمركَ ما بهذي الأرضِ شيءٌ

يسرُّ القلبَ إلا فيهِ خَنقُ!

By your life, nothing on this earth

Gladdens the heart without also choking it!

فأنشِدْ في السَماءِ الآنَ واصعَدْ

بوجهِك ضِحكَةٌ وبفيكَ صِدقُ

So sing in heaven now, and ascend,

Laughter on your face, and truth in your mouth.

نؤمّلُ أنّ نعيشَ حياةَ نوحٍ

وهل في ما نرى ما يستَحقُّ؟

We hope to live as long as Noah,

But is anything in what we see worth it?

وسوريّونَ لا النَكَباتُ كَفّتْ

ولا نحنُ اجتنبنا ما يَشقُّ

And we are Syrians: calamities have not ceased,

Nor have we avoided what brings hardship.

ظننا أنّ قاتِلَنا نظامٌ

وإذْ في إثْرهِ غربٌ وشَرقُ!

We thought our killer was a regime,

And behold, in its wake were West and East!

يخوّفُ شَعبَهُ الطُغيانُ فينا!

ويوهِمُهُم بأنْ ماتتْ دِمَشقُ

Tyranny uses us to frighten its people!

And deludes them into believing Damascus has died.

ولا واللهِ ما ماتت ولكنْ

على أطرافها الجيرانُ فُسْقُ!

And no, by God, she has not died—but

At her outskirts, the neighbors are depraved!

تقولُ حَمَامَةٌ: في الرفقِ خَيرٌ

وهل يُجدي معَ الطاعونِ رِفقُ؟!

A dove says, "There is good in gentleness."

But can gentleness avail against the plague?!

ستُنجبُ حَملَها الكَلِماتُ حتمَاً

وموتُ حُمَاتِها الأحرارِ طَلْقُ

Words will surely give birth to the child they carry,

And the deaths of their free defenders are labor pains.

هي الثوراتُ أُمٌّ من دِماءٍ

يَبرُّ الحرُّ، والمَخصيْ يعقُّ!

Revolutions are a mother made of blood:

The free man honors her, and the castrated man dishonors her!

لقد وفّيتَ يا ساروتُ فانعَمْ

بما قدّمتَ بعضُ الموتِ عِتقُ!

You have indeed kept faith, O Sarout, so rejoice

In what you have offered; some deaths are liberation!

وداعاً، لم تَمُتْ إلا لتحيا

وقلبكَ لم يَزل فينا يَدقُّ

Farewell—you died only to live,

And your heart still beats within us.

إذا الدنيا بكتهُ بكلّ عينٍ

فجنّاتُ النعيمِ بهِ أحقُّ!

If the world has wept for him with every eye,

Then the gardens of bliss have a greater right to him!