دموع عيون أم دماء قلوب — Ali Jarim

دُموعُ عُيونٍ أم دِماءُ قُلوبِ

على راحلٍ نائي المَزَارِ قريبِ

Tears of eyes, or blood of hearts,

For one departed, whose resting place is far, yet who is near?

نعاه لنا الناعِي فأفْزَعَ مِثْلَما

تُراعُ بِصَوْتٍ في الظلامِ رهيب

The death-messenger announced his death to us and frightened us as

One is terrified by a dreadful voice in darkness.

فقلنا أبِنْ رُحْماكَ طارتْ عُقُولُنا

فلم نستَمِعْ من فِيكَ غَيْرَ نَعِيب

So we said, 'Explain—have mercy! Our wits have flown;'

For we heard from your mouth nothing but cawing.

شككنا وكان الشكُّ أمْناً وراحةً

وَكم من يقينٍ في الحياة مُريب

We doubted, and doubt was safety and relief;

And how many a certainty in life is disquieting!

حَنانَكَ إِنّا أُمّةٌ هَدَّ ركنَها

صِراعُ ليالٍ واصطلاحُ خُطوبِ

Have compassion! We are a nation whose pillar was shattered

By nights' strife and the alliance of calamities.

إذا كَشَفَتْ عنها القميصَ بدتْ بها

نُدُوبٌ لطعنِ الدهرِ فوق نُدُوبِ

When she takes off her shirt, there appear upon her

Scars from time's stabbings, scar upon scar.

وإِنْ أرسلتْ في ذِمَّةِ اللّه عَبْرَةً

على ابن سُرىً حامي الذِّمارِ وَثُوبِ

And if she sheds a tear in God's keeping,

For a son of night journeys, a guardian of honor, swift to spring,

دَهَتْها الليالي في سواه ولا أرَى

شَعُوباً لهذا الناس مِثْلَ شَعُوبِ

The nights strike her through another's loss, and I see

No sunderer of these people like Death.

تَدَاوَى من الإِعْوالِ بالبثِّ والبُكا

وتَشْفِي لَهِيباً للجوَى بلهيب

She treats her wailing with lament and weeping,

And heals a flame of anguish with a flame.

وتمسَحُ دمعاً كي تجودَ بِمثْلِهِ

وتَنْسَى أَريباً بادِّكارِ أَريب

And wipes away tears to pour forth their like,

And forgets one wise man by remembering another.

فيأيُّها الناعِي إذا قُلْتَ فاتَّئِدْ

فما مُخطىءٌ في قولهِ كمُصيب

So, bearer of death-news, when you speak, take care:

For one mistaken in his words is not like one who is right.

حَنَانكَ قُلْ ما شئتَ إلاّ فَجيعةً

بفقدِ كريمٍ أوْ فِراقِ حَبيب

Have compassion! Say what you will, except the calamity

Of losing a noble man or parting from a beloved.

فقال قَضَى قُلْنا قَضَى حاجةَ العُلا

فقال مَضَى قُلنا بغير ضَرِيب

He said, 'He has passed.' We said, 'He has fulfilled glory's need.'

He said, 'He has gone.' We said, 'Without a peer.'

فهزَّ اعتلاجُ الْحُزنِ أَضلاعَ صَدْرِهِ

وأخْفَى نَشيجاً تحتَ طيِّ نحِيب

Then the turmoil of grief shook the ribs of his chest,

And he hid a sob beneath the folds of wailing.

وقال قضَى عبدُ العزيزِ ولم يكُنْ

نصيبُ امرىءٍ في الرِّزْءِ فوقَ نَصيبي

And he said, 'Abd al-Aziz has died,' and never was

Any man's share in the loss greater than mine.

فواحسرتا مات الإِمامُ ولم تكُنْ

نِهايةُ هذِي الشمسِ غيرَ مَغيبِ

Alas! The Imam has died, and there was

No end for this sun but its setting.

وغاض مَعِينٌ كان رِيّاً ورحمةً

وكلُّ مَعينٍ صائرٌ لنُضُوبِ

And a flowing spring has ebbed, once quenching thirst and bringing mercy,

And every spring is destined to run dry.

فَمَنْ لِكتاب اللّهِ يلمَحُ نُورَهُ

بعينِ بصيرٍ بالبَيانِ لبيب

Who, then, is there for God's Book, to discern its light

With the eye of one discerning in eloquence and wise?

ومَنْ يدفَعُ العادِي على دينِ أَحْمدٍ

بعزمٍ كَمَسنُونِ الْحِرابِ صَلِيب

And who will repel the aggressor against Ahmad's faith

With resolve as unyielding as sharpened spears?

وقد كُنْتَ يا عبدَ العزيزِ إِذا دَجَتْ

وقد قيل أمّا بَعْدُ خيرَ خَطِيب

And you were, O Abd al-Aziz, when darkness fell,

And 'Now, to proceed' was said, the finest orator.

بنفسِيَ مَن عَانى الحياةَ مُشَرّداً

يَجُوبُ من الآفاقِ كُلَّ مَجُوب

My life as ransom for him who endured life in exile,

Roaming every stretch of the far horizons,

غريباً تَقاضاه الليالي حُشاشةً

ولكنّه للفضلِ غيرُ غريب

A stranger, from whom the nights exacted life's last remnant,

Yet he was no stranger to excellence.

يطوفُ بأقطارِ البلادِ كأنه

خيالٌ مُلِمٌّ او خيالُ أَدِيبِ

He wanders through the regions of the land as though

A fleeting apparition, or a writer's imagining.

ويطوي وراء البِشْرِ نفساً جَرِيحةً

وأعشارَ قلبٍ بالهُمومِ خَضِيب

And folds behind his cheerfulness a wounded soul,

And fragments of a heart stained with cares.

أيشكو لئيمُ القومِ كَظّاً وبطْنَةً

ويَشْكو فتى الفتيانِ مسّ سُغُوبِ

Does the base man of the people complain of surfeit and a stuffed belly,

While the finest of young men complains of hunger's touch?

لأمر غدا ما حَوْلَ مكةَ مُقْفِراً

جَديباً وباقي الأرضِ غيرُ جَديب

For some reason, all around Mecca has become desolate,

And barren, while the rest of the earth is not barren.

تُقَتِّلُنا الأيامُ وهْيَ حياتُنا

وتعُطي وما أبْصرْتُ غيْرَ سَليب

The days slay us, though they are our life,

And they give—yet I have seen none but the despoiled.

فما حِيلتي إِنْ كان بالماء غُصَّتي

ودائي إذا عَزَّ الدواءُ طبيبي

What recourse have I, if water itself makes me choke,

And, when medicine is scarce, my physician is my disease?

كأنَّ حِبالَ الشمسِ كِفّةُ حابِلٍ

تُحيطُ بنا من شمأَلٍ وجَنوب

As though the sun's cords were a trapper's net,

Encircling us from north and south.

نَروحُ بها والموتُ ظمآنُ ساغبٌ

يلاحظُنا في جَيْئَةٍ وذُهوب

We go about within it, while Death, thirsty and hungry,

Watches us in our coming and going.

على الشَّفَقِ المُحْمرِّ مِنْ فَتكاتِهِ

بَقايَا دَمٍ للذاهبينَ صَبيب

Upon the twilight reddened by his deadly assaults

Lie remnants of the departed's poured-out blood.

هل الدَّهْرُ إلاّ ليلةٌ طال سُهْدُها

تَنَفَّسُ عن يومٍ أَحَمَّ عَصِيب

Is time anything but a night of long sleeplessness,

That breathes forth a black, harrowing day?

وليس ترابُ الأرضِ غَيْرَ تَرائبٍ

وغيرَ عُقولٍ حُطِّمتْ وقُلوبِ

And the earth's dust is nothing but chest bones,

And nothing but shattered minds and hearts.

سَلُوا وَجَناتِ الغِيدِ في ذِمَّةِ الثَّرَى

أتُزْهَى بحسنٍ أَمْ تُدِلُّ بِطيب

Ask the cheeks of graceful women, in the dust's keeping:

Do they glory in beauty, or vaunt their fragrance?

وكانت شِبَاكاً للعُيونِ فأصبحتْ

ولستَ تَرى فيهنَّ غَيرَ شُحُوب

And once they were nets for the eyes, but now—

And you see in them nothing but pallor.

فَيَا مَنْ رأَى عبدَ العزيزِ تَنُوشُه

نُيُويبٌ لعادي الموتِ أَيُّ نُيُوب

So, O you who saw Abd al-Aziz assailed

By the fangs of marauding Death—what fangs!

طريحاً على أيدي الأُسَاةِ كأنّه

حِمالةُ عَضْبٍ أو رِشاءُ قَليبِ

Prostrate in the physicians' hands, as though he were

A sword's baldric, or a well's drawing-rope.

فَيَا وَيْحَ للصدرِ الرّحيبِ الّذي غدا

بمُزْدَحِمِ الآلامِ غيرَ رَحيب

Alas for the spacious breast that has become,

Amid the press of pains, no longer spacious!

تدِبُّ به في مَوْطِنش الحلمِ علّةٌ

لها كالصِّلال الرُّقشِ شَرُّ دَبِيبِ

A sickness creeps within it, in the seat of forbearance,

Whose creeping, like that of speckled vipers, is most evil.

تَرى القلب منها واجباً أنْ تَمَسَّهُ

فتتركَهُ قلباً بغيرِ وَجِيب

It deems it its duty to touch the heart,

And leaves it a heart without a heartbeat.

أصَابَتْ نِظَاماً للمعالي فبدَّدَتْ

ومقصِدَ آمالٍ ومجدَ شُعُوب

It struck a thread binding lofty virtues, and scattered them,

And the goal of hopes, and the glory of peoples.

لقد كنتَ تُعْلي في الحياةِ قَصائدي

وتهتزُّ عُجْباً إِنْ سَمِعتَ نَسيبي

In life, you used to exalt my poems,

And thrill with admiration when you heard my love verse.

فهاكَ نِداءً إنْ يَجِدْ منكَ سامعاً

وهاكَ رِثاءً إنْ يَفُزْ بمُجِيب

Here, then, is a call—if it finds a listener in you;

And here is an elegy—if it finds one to answer.

رِثاءٌ يكادُ المَيْتُ يَحْيَا بلفظِهِ

ويَحْبِسُ شمسَ الأُفْقِ دونَ غُروب

An elegy whose words could almost bring the dead to life,

And hold the sun of the horizon back from setting.

فطارِحْ به الْخَنْساءَ إِن جُزْتَ دارهَا

ونافِسْ به إن شئتَ شِعرَ حَبيب

Vie in verse with al-Khansa through it, if you pass her abode,

And rival Habib's poetry with it, if you wish.

تمنّيتُ لو أرستُ شعري مع البُكا

بغيرِ قَوافٍ أو بغيرِ ضُرُوب

I wished I had sent my poetry forth with weeping,

Without rhymes, or without closing metrical feet;

وصَيَّرْتُ أنّاتي تفاعيلَ بحرِهِ

وجِئْتُ بوَزْنٍ في القَريضِ عجيبِ

And made my groans the metrical feet of its measure,

And brought a strange meter into poetry.

فإِنّي رأيتُ الشِّعْرَ تنفِرُ طيرُهُ

إِذا دُهمتْ من فادحٍ بهبُوبِ

For I have seen poetry's birds scatter,

When assailed by the gust of a crushing calamity.

تَهَابُ القوافِي أَنْ تمَسَّ جَلاَلةً

لذي شَمَمٍ ضَافِي الجلالِ مَهِيب

Rhymes fear to touch the majesty

Of one lofty of spirit, vast in grandeur, awe-inspiring.

عليكَ سلامُ اللّه ما ناح طائرٌ

على غُصُن غَضِّ الإِهابِ رطيب

God's peace be upon you, as long as a bird laments

Upon a branch, tender-skinned and moist.