ألا حيها رب العلى من غوارب — Alsharif Alradi

أَلا حَيِّها رَبَّ العُلى مِن غَوارِبِ

تَعَرَّقُني بَينَ العُلى وَالمَطالِبِ

Ah, hail them, lord of the heights—those crests

that gnaw me bare between glory and my aims.

وَما لي وَلِلآمالِ مِن دونِها القَنا

تُهَزُّ وَسَوراتُ النَوى وَالنَوائِبِ

And what have I to do with hopes? Before them are spears,

brandished, and the onslaughts of separation and calamities.

سَئِمتُ زَماناً تَنتَحيني صُروفُهُ

وُثوبَ الأَفاعي أَو دَبيبَ العَقارِبِ

I am weary of an age whose vicissitudes assail me

like the leaps of vipers or the creeping of scorpions.

مَقامُ الفَتى عَجزٌ عَلى ما يُضيمُهُ

وَذُلُّ الجَريءِ القَلبِ إِحدى العَجائِبِ

A man's staying under what oppresses him is helplessness,

and a bold heart's abasement is one of the wonders.

سَأَركَبُها بَزلاءَ إِمّا لِمادِحٍ

يُعَدَّدُ أَفعالي وَإِمّا لِنادِبِ

I shall mount her, a full-grown she-camel, either for a praiser

to recount my deeds, or for a mourner.

إِذا قَلَّ عَزمُ المَرءِ قَلَّ اِنتِصارُهُ

وَأَقلَعَ عَنهُ الضَيمُ دامي المَخالِبِ

When a man's resolve wanes, his power to defend himself wanes,

and oppression leaves him with bloodied claws.

وَضاقَت إِلى ما يَشتَهي طُرقُ نَفسِهِ

وَنالَ قَليلاً مَع كَثيرِ المَعائِبِ

And his soul's paths to what he desires grow narrow,

and he gains little along with many faults.

وَما بَلَغَ المَرمى البَعيدَ سِوى اِمرىءٍ

يَروحُ وَيَغدو عِرضَةً لِلجَواذِبِ

None reaches the distant goal except a man

who goes at evening and morning, exposed to forces that tug at him.

وَما جَرَّ ذُلّاً مِثلُ نَفسٍ جَزوعَةٍ

وَلا عاقَ عَزماً مِثلُ خَوفِ العَواقِبِ

Nothing brings humiliation like a fainthearted soul,

and nothing hinders resolve like fear of consequences.

أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل تُسالِمُني النَوى

وَتَخبو هُمومي مِن قِراعِ المَصائِبِ

Ah, would that I knew: will separation make peace with me,

and my cares from battling calamities die down?

إِلى كَم أَذودُ العَينَ أَن يَستَفِزَّها

وَميضُ الأَماني وَالظُنونِ الكَواذِبِ

How long shall I guard my eye from being stirred

by the glimmer of wishes and false conjectures?

حُسِدتُ عَلى أَنّي قَنِعتُ فَكَيفَ بي

إِذا ما رَمى عَزمي مَجالَ الكَواكِبِ

I was envied for being content; what will become of me

when my resolve aims at the stars' domain?

وَما زالَ لِلإِنسانِ حاسِدُ نِعمَةٍ

عَلى ظاهِرٍ مِنها قَليلٍ وَغائِبِ

A person has never lacked an envier of his blessing,

for the little of it that shows, and for what is hidden.

وَأَبقَت لِيَ الأَيّامُ حَزماً وَفِطنَةً

وَوَقَّرنَ جَأشي بِالأُمورِ الغَرائِبِ

The days have left me firmness and discernment,

and steadied my heart through strange events.

تَوَزَّعَ لَحمي في عَواجِمَ جَمَّةٍ

وَبانَ عَلى جَنبَيَّ وَسمُ التَجارِبِ

My flesh was divided among many gnawers,

and the brand of experience showed upon my two sides.

وَأَرضٍ بِها بِعتُ الصَبابَةَ وَالصِبا

وَناهَضَ قَلبي الهَمَّ مِن كُلِّ جانِبِ

And many a land where I sold away longing and youth,

and my heart fought sorrow from every side;

وَزَورٍ مِنَ الأَضغانِ نَحوي كَأَنَّما

يُلاقيهِمُ شَخصي لِقاءَ المُحارِبِ

and many visitors filled with rancor toward me, as though

my person met them in a warrior's encounter.

أُناسيهِمُ بَغضاءَهُم غَيرَ غافِلٍ

وَأَسأَلُهُم مَعروفَهُم غَيرَ راغِبِ

I pretend to forget their hatred, without being heedless,

and ask them for their kindness, without desiring it.

وَإِنّي لَأَطويهِم عَلى عُظمِ دائِهِم

وَأَقعُدُ مِنهُم بَينَ دامٍ وَجالِبِ

Indeed I fold them away, despite their grievous sickness,

and sit among them, between wounds bleeding and scabbing.

أَلا رُبَّ مَجدٍ قَد ضَرَحتُ قَذاتَهُ

وَكانَ عَلى الأَيّامِ جَمَّ الشَوائِبِ

Ah, many a glory whose mote I cast away,

though through the days it was full of impurities;

وَسِرٍّ كَتَمتُ الناسَ حَتّى كَتَمتُهُ

ضُلوعي وَلَم أُطلِع عَلَيهِ مَآرِبي

and many a secret I hid from people, until I hid it

from my ribs, and did not disclose it to my desires.

وَأَغيَدَ مَحسودٍ عَلى نورِ وَجهِهِ

هَجَرتُ سِوى لَحظِ البَعيدِ المُجانِبِ

And many a graceful youth, envied for his face's radiance,

I shunned, save for the glance of one distant and aloof;

وَغَيداءَ قيدَت لِلعِناقِ مَلَكتُها

فَنَزَّهتُ عَنها بَعدَ وَجدٍ تَرائِبي

and many a graceful woman, led to an embrace, whom I held in my power,

yet after passion I kept my breast apart from her.

وَما عِفَّةُ الإِنسانِ إِلّا غَباوَةٌ

إِذا لَم يُكافِح داءَ وَجدٍ مُغالِبِ

A person's chastity is nothing but dullness

if he does not fight the sickness of overpowering passion.

وَعَزمٍ كَأَطرافِ الأَسِنَّةِ في الحَشا

طَعَنتُ بِهِ كَيدَ العَدوِّ المُوارِبِ

And many a resolve, like spearheads within the breast,

with which I pierced the cunning enemy's plot;

وَضَيمٍ كَما مَضَّ الجِراحَ نَجَوتُهُ

إِلى المَنظَرِ الأَعلى نَجاءَ الرَكائِبِ

and many an oppression, smarting like wounds, I escaped

to the highest prospect, with the flight of riding camels;

وَخُطَّةِ خَسفٍ فِتُّها غَيرَ لاحِقٍ

بِيَ العارُ إِلّا ما نَفَضتُ ذَوائِبي

and many a course of abasement I outstripped, with no shame

attaching to me, save that I shook my forelocks,

عَلى هِمَّةٍ أَيدي المَنونِ سِياطُها

تَسوقُ بِها الآمالَ سَوقَ النَجائِبِ

upon an ambition whose whips are the hands of Death,

driving hopes with them as noble camels are driven,

إِلى قائِمٍ بِالمَجدِ يَحمي فُروجَهُ

وَيَطعَنُ عَنهُ بِالقَنا وَالرَغائِبِ

toward one who upholds glory and guards its breaches,

and strikes in its defense with spears and prized gifts.

مُقيمٌ بِطيبِ الذِكرِ في كُلِّ بَلدَةٍ

وَقَد عُوِّدَ الأَكوارُ جَبَّ الغَوارِبِ

He dwells, through his fair renown, in every town,

though saddles have grown used to shearing away humps.

فَتىً صَحِبَ البَأسُ النَدى في بَنانِهِ

بِفَيضِ العَطايا وَالدِماءِ السَوارِبِ

A youth in whose fingers valor keeps company with generosity,

in the flood of gifts and streaming blood.

لَأَمجَدِ فَرعٍ في عِرانينِ هاشِمٍ

وَأَنجَبِ عودٍ مِن لُؤَيَّ بنِ غالِبِ

To the most glorious branch among Hashim's chieftains,

and the noblest stock of Lu'ayy ibn Ghalib.

لَهُم سُرَّةُ المَجدِ التَليدِ وَسِرُّهُ

وَمَحضُ المَعالي فيهِمُ وَالمَناقِبِ

The navel of ancestral glory and its secret belong to them,

and in them are the pure essence of high honors and noble deeds.

يَبيتونَ أَغمادُ السُيوفِ نُحورُهُم

وَيَغدونَ جُرّارَ الرِماحِ السَوالِبِ

They pass the night with their throats the sheaths of swords,

and go forth at dawn trailing despoiling spears.

تَرَقّوا عَليها كُلَّ مَجدٍ وَنَكَّسوا

بِأَطرافِها عَن عاقِداتِ السَباسِبِ

Upon them they climbed to every glory, and toppled riders

with their tips from steeds that knit the open plains.

وَخَطبٍ عَلى الزَوراءِ أَلقى جِرانَهُ

مَديدِ النَواحي مُدلَهِمِّ الجَوانِبِ

And a calamity laid its neck upon al-Zawra',

far-reaching in its bounds, dark on every side,

وَأَضرَمَها حَمراءَ يَنزو شَرارُها

إِلى جَنَباتِ الجَوِّ نَزوَ الجَنادِبِ

and kindled her into a red blaze, her sparks leaping

to the reaches of the sky like leaping locusts.

سَلَلتَ عَلَيهِ الحَزمَ حَتّى جَلَوتَهُ

كَما اِنجابَ غَيمُ العارِضِ المُتَراكِبِ

You unsheathed resolve against it until you cleared it away,

as piled banks of rainclouds break apart.

وَقَد عَلِمَ الأَعداءُ أَنَّكَ تَحتَهُ

غَلَبتَ وَما كانَ القَضاءُ بِغالِبِ

The enemies have learned that beneath it

you prevailed, and fate did not prevail.

وَأَقشَعتَ عَن بَغدادَ يَوماً دَويُّهُ

إِلى الآنَ باقٍ في الصَبا وَالجَنائِبِ

You cleared from Baghdad a day whose thunder

still lingers in the east wind and the southern winds.

وَلَولاكَ عُلّي بِالجَماجِمِ سورُها

وَخُندِقَ فيها بِالدِماءِ الذَوائِبِ

But for you, its wall would have been raised with skulls,

and trenches dug there with flowing blood.

وَكَم لَكَ مِن يَومٍ تَرَكتَ بِهِ الظُبى

مَضارِبَها مَشغولَةً بِالضَرائِبِ

How many a day of yours left the sword-edges,

their striking surfaces busy with bodies struck!

سَوابِقُهُ ما بَينَ كابٍ وَناهِضٍ

وَأَقرانُهُ ما بَينَ هاوٍ وَواثِبِ

Its fleet steeds were between stumbling and rising,

and its champions between falling and springing up.

وَقُدتَ إِلَيهِ الحَيلَ يُسبِبنَ بِالقَنا

وَيَسبُبنَ بوغاءَ المَلا وَالسَباسِبِ

You led the horses to it, striking with spears,

and cleaving the dust of open ground and plains.

ثِقالاً بِأَعباءِ العَوالي كَأَنَّما

يَطَأنَ الرُبى وَطءَ الإِماءِ الحَواطِبِ

Heavy with the burdens of tall spears, as though

they trod the hills like slave women gathering firewood,

مُعاوِدَةً عَضَّ الشَكيمِ يَمُصُّها

رَشاشَ الجَواني بِالنِبالِ الصَوائِبِ

again biting the bits, their mouths fed

with the spray from wound-givers wielding arrows that strike true.

وَقَد شَمَّرَ التَحجيلُ عَن جَنَباتِها

وَحَجَّلَها خَوضاً نَجيعُ المَقانِبِ

Their white stockings had drawn back from their flanks,

and, as they waded, the squadrons' blood put stockings on them.

فَقَصَّرتَ فيهِ كُلَّ سَمراءَ لَدنَةٍ

وَأَنحَلتَ فيهِ كُلَّ أَبيَضَ قاضِبِ

In it you shortened every supple brown spear,

and thinned every white, keen-cutting sword.

وَأَصدَرتَ عَنهُ الجَيشَ مِن بَعدِ هَبوَةٍ

تُوَصِّلُ أَعناقَ القَنا وَالقَواضِبِ

You brought the army away from it after a dust-cloud

that joined the necks of spears and cutting swords.

وَأَرعَنَ دَمّاغِ الرُبى في مَجَرِّهِ

يُطَبِّقُ عَرضَ البيدِ ذاتِ المَناكِبِ

And a mountainlike host, crushing hills in its course,

covering the breadth of the broad-shouldered desert,

سَرَيتَ بِهِ حَتّى تَقَلَّصَ نَقعُهُ

عَنِ الفَجرِ طَلّاعاً جِبالِ الغَياهِبِ

you led by night until its dust drew back

from dawn as it climbed the mountains of darkness.

وَفي كُلِّ يَومٍ أَنتَ بِالعَزمِ راكِبٌ

فَراديدَ أَمرٍ لا تَذِلُّ لِراكِبِ

Every day, by your resolve, you ride

the wild strays of affairs that yield to no rider.

وَلَيسَ عَجيباً إِن تَخَمَّطَ بازِلٌ

سَرَت فيهِ أَعراقُ القُرومِ المَصاعِبِ

It is no wonder if a mature camel grows fierce

when the bloodlines of mighty, unbroken camel stallions run in him.

تَدارَكتَ أَطنابَ الخِلافَةِ بَعدَما

دَنا الضَيمُ حَتّى مَسَّها بِالرَواجِبِ

You rescued the caliphate's tent-ropes after

oppression came near enough to touch them with its knuckles.

وَما زِلتَ تَرمي كُلَّ قَلبٍ مُجاذِبٍ

تُجاذِبُها حَتّى قُلوبَ الأَقارِبِ

You have never ceased striking every rival heart,

contending for it—even the hearts of kinsmen.

هَنيئاً لَكَ العيدُ الجَديدُ فَإِنَّهُ

يَسُلُّ لَكَ الإِقبالَ عَضبَ المَضارِبِ

May the new feast bring you joy, for it

unsheathes good fortune for you, keen at the striking edges.

وَعِزُّكَ باقٍ لا يُزَلزَلُ طَودُهُ

وَكُلُّ المَعالي بَينَ ماضٍ وَآيِبِ

Your might endures; its mountain is not shaken,

and all high honors lie between departing and returning.

وَما راقَتِ الأَعيادُ إِلّا بِغُرَّةٍ

تَبَلَّجُ عَن نورٍ مِنَ المَجدِ ثاقِبِ

Feasts are pleasing only through a radiant brow

that shines forth with a piercing light of glory.

وَكَيفَ يَسُرُّ الفِطرُ مَن عاشَ دَهرَهُ

بِعُنوانِ مَعروفِ الجَناجِنِ شاحِبِ

How can the feast of breaking the fast gladden one who has lived his life

bearing the mark of pallor and breastbones plain to see?

إِذا ما اِمرُؤٌ لَم يَكسُهُ الشَيبُ عِفَّةً

فَما الشَيبُ إِلّا سُبَّةٌ لِلأَشائِبِ

If gray hair has not clothed a man in chastity,

then gray hair is only a reproach to the gray-haired.

أَنا القائِلُ المَرموقُ مِن كُلِّ ناظِرٍ

إِذا صَلصَلَت لِلسامِعينَ غَرائِبي

I am the speaker on whom every eye is fixed,

when my wonders ring out for listeners.

وَما صُنتُ شِعري عَنكَ زُهداً وَإِنَّما

هُوَ الدُرُّ لا يَمري بِغَيرِ الحَوالِبِ

I have not withheld my poetry from you out of indifference; rather,

it is milk, not drawn forth without milking hands.

وَلي مِن قَريضي مُنبِهٌ لِضَميرِهِ

وَلَكِنَّني آبى دَنيَّ المَكاسِبِ

In my verse I have a means to rouse its hidden spirit,

but I refuse lowly ways of earning.

وَما كُلُّ شُغلي بِالمَقالِ أَروضُهُ

وَلا أَنا بِالقَوّالِ ضَربَةَ لازِبِ

Not all my work is in words that I train,

nor am I irrevocably bound to be a word-spinner.