كفى حزنا أني أبثك ما عندي — Almlk Alamjad

كفى حَزَناً أنَّي أبثُّكَ ما عندي

وقد رحلَ الأحبابُ عن علَمَيْ نَجدِ

It is sorrow enough that I confide to you what lies within me,

when the loved ones have departed from Najd's two landmarks.

وكيف وقد كنتُ الأمينَ على الهوى

أُحدَّثُ عن أشياءَ طالَ لها جَحْدي

And how, when I was love's trusted guardian,

am I told of things I long denied?

وما لُمْتُهمْ فيما جنوه مِنَ النوى

لعلمي بأنَّ اللومَ في الحبَّ لا يُجْدي

I did not blame them for the separation they brought about,

knowing that reproach in love avails nothing.

فيا عاذلي دعْ عنكَ عَذْلي فما أرى

عليكَ ضلالي في الغرامِ ولا رشدي

So, my reproacher, leave off reproaching me; I do not see

my straying in passion, or my right course, as your burden.

إليكَ فهذا الشوقُ قد عادَ مأْلَفاً

لقلبي وهذا الوجدُ قد صارَ لي وَحْدي

Away with you! This longing has become a familiar abode

for my heart, and this anguish has become mine alone.

أحِنُّ إلى ليلى فلو زالَ حبُّها

ولا زالَ عن قلبي طَرِبْتُ إلى هندِ

I yearn for Layla; were my love for her to fade—

may it never leave my heart!—I would yearn for Hind.

سقى زمنَ الجرعاءِ دمعي إذا ونتْ

سحائبُ يحدوهنَّ حادٍ من الرعدِ

May my tears water the days of al-Jarʿa when they falter—

the clouds, urged onward by a driver of thunder.

اِذا لمعتْ فيها البوارقُ خلتُها

قواضبَ في ليلٍ مِنَ النقعِ مسودَّ

When bolts of lightning flash within them, I imagine them

as keen swords in a dust-blackened night.

زماناً قطعناهُ شهيّاً أوانُه

بساعاتِ وصلٍ كلُّها زمنُ الوردِ

A time we passed, its season sweet,

in hours of union, all of them a season of roses.

فليت لأيامِ تقضَّتْ بقربهمْ

رجوعاً ولا يُرْجَى لما فاتَ مِن ردَّ

Would that the days that passed near them

might return; but no return is hoped for what has gone.

ومما شجاني في الأراكِ حمامةٌ

تغنَّتْ على فرعٍ من البانِ والزَّنْدِ

And among the things that grieved me was a dove in the arak trees,

singing on a bough of ban and fire-stick wood.

تنوحُ اشتياقاً والهديلُ أمامَها

على البانِ لم تعبثْ به راحةُ البُعْدِ

She mourns in longing, though the male dove is before her,

on the ban tree; separation's hand has not touched him.

فكيف بها لوعاينتْ موقفَ النوى

مضافاً إلى هجرِ تطاولَ أوصدِِّ

How would she fare, then, if she witnessed the scene of parting,

together with prolonged estrangement or rejection,

وخوصُ النياقِ الواخداتِ بواركٌ

لوشكِ النوى مابينَ حَلِّ إلى شَدِّ

and the sunken-eyed, swift-striding she-camels kneeling,

for imminent departure, between loosening and tightening their loads,

ومَعْرَكٍَ بينٍ فالغزالُ مرَّوعٌ

يُودِّعنُي سرّاً ودمعيَ كالعِدِّ

and parting's battlefield, the gazelle terrified,

secretly bidding me farewell, my tears like an unfailing spring?

فطوراً أُرى فيه جريحَ لحاظِه

وطوراً أُرى فيه طعينَ قنا قَدِّ

At times I am seen there, wounded by his glances,

and at times I am seen there, pierced by the spears of his stature.

وقد عدتُ مقروناً بوجدي ولوعتي

غداةُ سرى الحادي عنِ الأجْرَعِ الفردِ

And I returned yoked to my anguish and my burning grief,

on the morning the camel-driver had traveled by night from solitary al-Ajraʿ.

أسائلُ رسمَ الدارِ عن أمدِ النوى

واِنْ لم أكن بالعَودِ منهمْ على وعدِ

I question the dwelling's traces about how long separation will last,

though I have no promise from them of return.

وذي هَيفٍَ ما زالَ يهزأُ قدُّه

وقد هزَّهُ الاِعجابُ بالقُضُبِ المُلْدِ

And a slender-waisted one whose stature never ceased to mock—

swayed by self-admiration—the supple boughs:

تطاولتِ الأزمانُ بيني وبينَهُ

وما حالَ حاشاه ولا حلتُ عن عهدِ

the years have lengthened between me and him,

yet he has not changed—far be it from him!—nor have I turned from the pledge.

كأنَّ الهوى إلى عليه أَليَّةً

بأنْ لا أَرى لي منه ماعشتُ مِن بُدِّ

As though love had sworn an oath upon him,

that as long as I live, I should never be able to do without him.

وهيَّجتُ أشجانَ الرِّفاقِ بعالجٍ

وهوجُ المطايا الناجياتِ بنا تَخدي

And I stirred my companions' sorrows at ʿAlij,

while impetuous, fleet riding-camels strode swiftly with us.

وقد زرتُ ربعَ الظاعنينَ عشيَّةً

فباتَ إلى قلبي رسيسُ الهوى يَهدي

And I visited the abode of those who departed one evening,

and all night love's lingering ache brought to my heart

بنوحٍ على ما فاتَ مِن زمنِ الصِّبا

ودمعٍ على عيشٍ تقضَّى بهمْ رغدِ

lament for the bygone days of youth,

and tears for a life of ease passed with them.

وأعدانيَ الرسمُ الدريسُ بسُقْمِه

فأعديتهُ والسُّقمُ أكثرُه يُعدي

The faded traces infected me with their sickness,

and I infected them in turn; most sickness is contagious.

فيا قلبُ قد أصبحتَ جَلْداً على النوى

وما كنتَ تُدعَى قبلَ ذلكَ بالجَلْدِ

O heart, you have become steadfast in the face of separation,

and before that you were not called steadfast.

ولو لم تكن جَلْداً لما كنتَ بعدهمْ

بقيتَ ولو أصبحتَ مِن حجرٍ صَلْدِ

Had you not been steadfast, you would not, after them,

have survived—even had you become solid stone.

أحبتَّنا مَنْ حلَّ بالجِزعِ بعدكمْ

وقد بنتمُ عنه ومَنْ حلَّهُ بعدي

O our beloved ones, who dwelt at the valley bend after you,

once you had departed from it—and who dwelt there after me?

ومَنْ باتَ يَسقيهِ الدموعَ غزيرةً

تَحدَّ رُشوقاً فوقَ ذاكَ الثرى الجَعدِ

And who spent the night watering it with copious tears,

streaming down in longing over that cloddy earth,

وينظرُ خفّاقَ البروقِ فينطوي

على أضلعٍ لم يبقُ فيها سوى الوجدِ

and watched the lightning flicker, then curled inward

over ribs in which nothing remained but anguish?

اِذا لاحَهُ حرُّ الغرامِ رأيتُه

يعانقُ أطلالَ الديارِ مِنَ الوقدِ

When passion's heat scorched him, I saw him

embracing the dwellings' ruins because of the burning heat,

يُبَرِّدُ بالائآرِ لذعَ غليلِهِ

وجاحمُ نارِ الشوقِ في ذلكَ البَرْدِ

cooling with the ruins the sting of his burning thirst,

yet the blaze of longing's fire lay in that very coolness.

وما صارمٌ يَفْري الضرائبَ باتكٌ

مَخُوفُ سُطا الحدَّينِ يُعزى إلى الهندِ

And no sharp sword, cleaving its targets, cutting clean,

feared for the assault of its two edges, traced to India—

اِذا ما انتضاهُ في الكريهةِ ضاربٌ

ومَرَّ يؤمُّ القِرنَ في ملتقى الأسدِ

when a swordsman draws it in battle

and strides toward his adversary where lions meet,

يرى الموتَ منه في الغِرارينِ كامناً

يلاحظُه مابينَ حدِّ إلى حدَّ

he sees death lurking in its two edges,

eyeing him from one edge to the other—

بأمضى غِراراً مِن لساني إذا انبرى

يُنَظَّمُ شِعراً ليس لي فيه مِن نِدِّ

is sharper-edged than my tongue when it steps forth

to compose verse in which I have no rival.

فكلُّ كلامٍ فيه عِقْدٌ منضَّدٌ

وكلُّ قصيدٍ فيه واسطةُ العِقْدِ

For every utterance in it is a necklace, neatly strung,

and every poem in it the necklace's central jewel.