إذا وقت السعادة زال عني — Almaarri

إِذا وَقتُ السَعادَةِ زالَ عَنّي

فَكِلني إِن أَرَدتَ وَلا تُكَنّي

If the season of happiness leaves me,

then leave me, if you wish, and do not speak obliquely.

نَبَذتُ نَصيحَتي أَن رَثَّ جِسمي

وَكَم نَقَعَ الغَليلَ خَبيءُ شَنِّ

I cast aside my counsel because my body had grown worn;

yet how often an old waterskin's hidden contents have quenched thirst.

وَقَد عَدِمَ التَيَقُّنُ في زَمانٍ

حَصَلنا مِن حِجاهُ عَلى التَظَنّي

Certainty has disappeared in an age

whose wisdom has brought us only conjecture.

فَقُلنا لِهِزبَرِ أَأَنتَ لَيثٌ

فَشَكَّ وَقالَ عَلَيَّ أَو كَأَنّي

So we asked a lion, "Are you a lion?"

He doubted, saying, "Perhaps I am—or it seems I am."

وَضَعتُ عَلى قَرا الأَيّامِ رَحلي

فَما أَنا لِلمُقامِ بِمُطمَئِنِّ

I placed my saddle on the back of days;

I have no assurance of staying put.

وَلاقَتبي عَلى العَودِ المُزَجّى

وَلا سَرجي عَلى الفَرَسِ الأَدَنِّ

Nor is my camel-saddle on an old camel driven onward,

nor my saddle on a short-forelegged horse.

وَلَكِن تَرقُلُ الساعاتُ تَحتي

بَرِئنَ مِنَ التَمَكُّثِ وَالتَأَنّي

Rather, the hours trot swiftly beneath me,

free of lingering and delay.

أَحِنُّ وَما أَجُنُّ سِوى غَرامٍ

بِغَيرِ الحَقِّ مِن حِنٍّ وَجِنِّ

I yearn, harboring nothing but a passion

for what is unreal, among Hinn and jinn.

نَصَحتُكِ ناقَتي سَلَبي وَنَفسي

وَنُحرِكُ في الحَنينِ فَلا تَحِنّي

I warned you, my she-camel: my possessions and my life,

and your slaughter lie in yearning, so do not yearn.

أَضَيفَ الفَقرِ ضَيفَنُكَ اِدِّلاجٌ

فَهَل لَكَ مِن ذُؤالَةَ في ضِفَنِّ

O guest of poverty, your unbidden guest is night travel;

will you take Dhu'ala the wolf as a fellow guest?

غِنىً وَتَصَعلُكٌ وَكَرىً وَسُهدٌ

فَقَضَّينا الحَياةَ بِكُلِّ فَنِّ

Wealth and beggary, sleep and sleeplessness—

we have spent life in every manner.

زَمانٌ لا يَنالُ بَنوهُ خَيراً

إِذا لَم يَلحَظوهُ مِنَ التَمَنّي

An age whose children find no good

unless they glimpse it in their wishes.

عَرَفتُ صُروفَهُ فَأَزَمتُ مِنها

عَلى سِنِّ اِبنِ تَجرِبَةٍ مُسِنِّ

I knew its vicissitudes and, because of them, bit down

with the tooth of an aged son of experience.

وَأَفقَرَني إِلى مَن لَيسَ مِثلي

كَما اِفتَقَرَ السِنانُ إِلى المِسَنِّ

It made me need someone unlike myself,

as the spearhead needs the whetstone.

أَنا اِبنُ التُربِ ما نَسَبي سِواهُ

قَلَلتُ عَنِ التَسَمّي وَالتَكَنّي

I am a son of dust; I have no other lineage.

I am too lowly for names and bynames.

إِذا أَلهَمَتنِيَ الغَبراءُ يَوماً

فَقَد أَمِنَ التَجَنُّبُ وَالتَجَنّي

If the dusty earth swallows me one day,

then one is safe from shunning and wrongful blame.

وَما أَهلُ التَحَنُّؤُ وَالتَحَلّي

إِلى أَهلِ التَحَلُوِّ وَالتَحَنّي

Those who use henna and adornments

are nothing beside those of sweetness and tenderness.

وَيَكفيكَ التَقَنُّعُ مِن قَريبٍ

عَظائِمَ لَيسَ تُبلَغُ بِالتَوَنّي

Contentment with what is near at hand spares you

mighty feats not attained through sloth:

صَريرَ الرُمحِ في زَرَدٍ مَنيعٍ

وَوَقعَ المَشرَفِيِّ عَلى المِجَنِّ

the spear's screech against impregnable mail,

and the Mashrafi blade's impact upon the shield;

وَحَملَ مُهَنَّدٍ يَسطو بِعَيرٍ

وَفورٍ لَيسَ بِالأَشِرِ المُرِنِّ

and bearing an Indian blade that strikes with its ridge—

a stout ass, neither wanton nor braying,

وَلا شَلّالِ عاناتٍ خِماصٍ

وَلَكِن خَيلِ جَيشٍ مُرجَحَنِّ

nor a driver of lean herds of she-asses,

but of the horses of a ponderous army.

يَرى عَذمَ الأَوابِدِ غَيرَ حِلٍّ

وَيَعذِمُ هامَةَ البَطَلِ الرِفَنِّ

It deems biting wild beasts unlawful,

but bites the head of the burly warrior.

وَما يَنَفكُّ مُحتَمِلاً ذُباباً

أَبى التَغريدُ في الخَضِرِ المُغَنِّ

It always carries a fly—its cutting point—

one that refuses to sing in green, humming thickets.

تَذوبُ حِذارَهُ زُرقُ الأَعادي

وَيَسخى بِالحَياةِ حَليفُ ضَنِّ

Blue-eyed enemies melt for fear of it,

and even a miser gives his life freely.

وَيَنفُثُ في فَمِ الحَيّاتِ سُمّاً

وَيَملَأُ ذِلَّةً أَنفَ المِصِنِّ

It spits venom into the mouths of serpents

and fills the proud man's nose with humiliation.

وَخَرقُ مَفازَةٍ كُسِيَت سَراباً

يُعَرّي الذِئبَ مِن وَبَرٍ مُكِنِّ

And a desert's broad expanse, clothed in mirage,

strips the wolf of its sheltering fur.

شَكَت سَحَراً مِنَ السَبَراتِ قُرّاً

فَأَوسَعَها الهَجيرُ مِنَ القُطُنِّ

It complained at dawn of the chill of frosty mornings;

so the midday heat lavished cotton upon it.

وَتَعزِفُ جِنُّها وَاللَيلُ داجٍ

إِذا خَلَتِ الجَنادِبُ مِن تَغَنّي

Its jinn make music while the night is dark,

when the grasshoppers have ceased their singing.

يَخالُ الغِرُّ سَرحَ بَني أُقَيشٍ

يُؤَنَّقُ في مَراتِعِها بِسَنِّ

The naive man imagines Banu Uqaysh's herd

being regaled in its pastures with sann grass.

أَراكَ إِذا اِنفَرَدتَ كُفيتَ شَرّاً

مِنَ الخَلِّ المُعاشِرِ وَالمِعَنِّ

I see that, when alone, you are spared harm

from the close companion and the meddler.

وَمَن يَحمِل حُقوقَ الناسِ يوجَد

لَدى الأَغراضِ كَالفَرَسِ المُعَنِّ

Whoever shoulders people's claims is found

amid their purposes, like a bridled horse.

أَتَعجَبُ مِن مُلوكِ الأَرضِ أَمسَوا

لِلَذّاتِ النُفوسِ عَبيدَ قِنِّ

Do you marvel at earth's kings, who have become

bondslaves to the pleasures of their souls?

فَإِن دانَيتُهُم لَم تَعدُ ظُلَماً

وَمَنّاً في الأُمورِ بِغَيرِ مَنِّ

For if I approach them, nothing awaits but injustices

and boasts of favors in affairs containing no favor.

نَهَيتُكَ عَن خِلاطِ الناسِ فَاِحذَر

أَقارِبَكَ الأَداني وَاِحذَرَنّي

I warned you against mingling with people; beware

your nearest relatives, and beware of me.

وَإِن أَنا قُلتُ لا تَحمِل جُرازاً

فَهُزَّ أَخا السَفاسِقِ وَاِضرِبَنّي

And if I say, "Do not carry a keen-cutting sword,"

brandish the streaked blade and strike me.

فَنَصلُ السَيفِ وَهوَ اللُجُّ يَرمي

غَريقاً فَوقَ سَيفٍ مُرفَئِنِّ

For the sword's blade, itself the deep sea, casts

a drowned man upon a tranquil shore.

وَضاحيهِ يُزيلُ غُضونَ وَجهٍ

وَيَبسُطُ مِن وِدادِ المُكبَئِنِّ

Its gleaming surface smooths the wrinkles of a face

and unfolds the affection of the sullen man.

فَما حَمَلَت يَداهُ بِهِ خَؤوناً

وَلا نَبَراتُهُ نَبَراتُ وَنِّ

His hands have borne no traitor in it,

nor are its notes the notes of a lute.

سَنا العَيشِ الخُمولُ فَلا تَقولوا

دَفينُ الصيتِ كَالمَيتِ المُجَنِّ

Life's radiance is obscurity; do not say,

"One whose fame is buried is like the buried dead."

وَتُؤثِرُ حالَةَ الزِمّيتِ نَفسي

وَأَكرَهُ شيمَةَ الرَجُلِ المِفَنِّ

My soul prefers the state of the grave, reserved man,

and I dislike the showman's disposition.

كَفى حُزناً رَحيلُ القَومِ عَنّي

وَلَيسَ تَخَيُّري وَطَنَ المِبِنِّ

The people's departure from me is grief enough;

I do not choose the stay-at-home's abode.

تَبَنَّوا خَيمَهُم فَوُقوا هَجيراً

وَأَعوَزَني مَكانٌ لِلتَبَنّي

They erected their tents and were sheltered from noon heat,

while I lacked a place to build a shelter.

يُصافِحُ راحَةً بِاليَأسِ قَلبي

وَلَدنُ الشَرخِ حُوِّلَ مِن لَدُنّي

Through despair, my heart shakes hands with rest,

and supple youth has been removed from my side.

وَما أَنا وَالبُكاءَ لِغَيرِ خَطبٍ

أَعينُ بِذاكَ لِمَن لَم يَسَتَعِنّي

I have no use for weeping except at calamity;

with it I help one who has not sought my aid.

حَسِبتُكَ لَو تُوازِنُ بي ثَبيراً

وَرَضوى في المَكارِمِ لَم تَزِنّي

I thought that, if you weighed Thabir against me,

and Radwa in noble deeds, you could not match me.

وَما أَبغي كِفاءَكَ عَن جَميلٍ

وَأَمّا بِالقَبيحِ فَلا تَدِنّي

I seek no repayment from you for a kindness;

but do not repay me with ugliness.

وَلا تَكُ جازِياً بِالخَيرِ شَرّاً

وَإِن أَنا خُنتُ في سَبَبٍ فَخُنّي

And do not repay evil with good;

if I betray you in any matter, betray me.

جَليسي ما هَويتُ لَكَ اِقتِراباً

وَصُنتُكَ عَن مُعاشَرَتي فَصُنّي

My companion, I have not wished you closeness;

I kept you from my company, so keep me from yours.

أَرى الأَقوامَ خَيرُهُمُ سَوامٌ

وَإِن أُهِنِ اِبنَ حادِثَةٍ يُهِنّي

I see peoples whose best are grazing beasts;

if I humiliate a son of misfortune, he humiliates me.

إِذا قُتِلَ الفَتى الشِرّيبُ مِنهُم

فَلا يَهِجِ الغَرامَ كَسيرُ دَنِّ

If a hard-drinking youth among them is killed,

let no broken wine jar stir yearning.

رَأَيتُ بَني النَضيرِ مِن آلِ موسى

أَعارَهُمُ الشَقاءُ حَطيمَ ثِنِّ

I saw Banu al-Nadir, of the house of Moses;

misery had lent them the crumbled remains of dry grass.

سَعَوا وَسَعَت أَوائِلُهُم لِأَمرٍ

فَما رَبِحوا سِوى دَأبٍ مُعَنّي

They strove, and their forebears strove, toward an end,

yet gained nothing but exhausting toil.