Sol 6.1

  1. تَناسَيتُ إِلّا باقِياتٍ مِنَ الذِكرِ

    لَيالِيَنا بَينَ القَرينَةِ وَالغَمرِ

    I have sought to forget, save for lingering memories

    of our nights between al-Qarinah and al-Ghamr.

  2. وَكَم زادَني فيها الهَوى عَن جِمامِهِ

    وَقارَعَني الغَيرانُ عَن بَيضَةِ الخِدرِ

    How often passion there carried me beyond its fullest measure,

    and the jealous rival contended with me for the chamber's sheltered beauty.

  3. وَذي دَعَجٍ لا نابِلُ الحَيِّ رايِشاً

    وَلا بارِياً يَبري مِنَ الشَرِّ ما يَبري

    And many a dark gaze—no arrow-maker of the tribe, feathering shafts,

    or trimming them, fashions the harm it fashions—

  4. يُقَلَّبُ لي في مِحجَرَي أُمَّ شادِنٍ

    تَجَفَّلُ أَو يَدنو دُنوّاً عَلى ذُعرِ

    turns toward me within the eye-sockets of a fawn's mother,

    shying away, or drawing near with frightened steps.

  5. تَلَقَّيتُ مِن طَرفَيهِ سَهماً وَجَدتُه

    يَلَذُّ عَلى عَيني وَيُؤلِمُ في صَدري

    From his two eyes I received an arrow that I found

    sweet to my eye, but painful within my breast.

  6. فَيا لَكَ مِن رامٍ أَضَمَّ سِهامَهُ

    وَإِن نِلنَ مِنّي بِاليَدَينِ إِلى النَحرِ

    What an archer! I clasp his arrows,

    though they wound me, with both hands against my breast.

  7. أَقولُ لِغَيداقٍ وَأَذكَرَني الهَوى

    عَلى النَأيِ ما لِلقَلبِ وَيبَكَ وَالذِكرِ

    I say to Ghaydaq, as passion recalls the past,

    despite the distance: what has the heart—alas for you—to do with remembrance?

  8. تُذَكِّرُني ما حالَتِ الأَرضُ دونَهُ

    أَلا إِنَّما سَوَّلتَ لِلدَمعِ أَن يَجري

    You remind me of what the earth has barred from me;

    why, you have only tempted tears to flow.

  9. وَطَيُّ اللَيالي وَالجَديدُ إِلى بِلىً

    وَلَيسَ لِما يَطوي الجَديدانِ مِن نَثرِ

    The nights fold away, and the new passes into decay;

    what day and night fold away cannot be unfolded.

  10. وَشَرُّ الرَفيقَينِ الَّذي إِن أَمَرتَهُ

    عَصاكَ وَإِن ما حُطتَهُ الدَهرَ لَم يَدرِ

    The worse of two companions is the one who, when you command him,

    disobeys you, and if you guard him all your life, never knows it.

  11. يُقارِعُني حَتّى إِذا كَلَّ غَربُهُ

    نَسينا التَصافي وَاِندَمَلنا عَلى غَمرِ

    He contends with me until his edge grows dull;

    we forget affection, and our wounds close over rancor.

  12. أَفي كُلِّ يَومٍ أَنتَ ماتِحُ عَبرَةٍ

    عَلى طَلَلٍ بِالوِدِّ أَو مَنزِلٍ قَفرِ

    Must you every day draw up a tear

    over some ruin of affection or some deserted dwelling,

  13. وَمُنتَزِحٍ جَمّاتِ عَينَيكَ راجِعاً

    إِلى غَزرِ ماءٍ لا بَكِيءٍ وَلا نَزرِ

    and drain the reservoirs of your eyes, only to return

    to copious water, neither failing nor scant?

  14. أَقولُ عَزاءً وَالجَوى يَستَفِزُّهُ

    وأَعيا الأَواسي عَيَّ عَظمٍ عَلى وَقرِ

    I urge him to take comfort, while anguish agitates him,

    and he baffles his healers as a bone fails beneath a burden.

  15. فَلَمّا أَبى إِلّا البُكاءَ رَفَدتُهُ

    بِعَينَينِ كانا لِلدَموعِ عَلى قَدرِ

    When he insisted on nothing but weeping, I aided him

    with two eyes equal to the measure of tears.

  16. وَقُلتُ لَهُ رُدَّ الجُفونَ عَلى القَذى

    وَخَلِّ الجَوى يَمري مِنَ الدَمعِ ما يَمري

    I told him: close your eyelids over the grit,

    and let anguish milk whatever tears it will.

  17. قَسَمتُ زَفيرَ الوَجدِ بَيني وَبَينَهُ

    دَواليكَ أَقريهِ اللَواعِجَ أَو يَقري

    I shared the sighs of longing between myself and him,

    taking turns: I served him burning griefs, or he served me.

  18. عَشِيَّةَ تَغشاني مِنَ الدَمعِ كَنَّةٌ

    كَأَنِّيَ مَرهومُ الإِزارَينِ بِالقَطرِ

    That evening a canopy of tears enveloped me,

    as though both my garments were soaked in gentle rain.

  19. فَزِعتُ إِلى فَضلِ الرِداءِ مُبادِراً

    تَلَقِّيَ دَمعي أَن يَنُمَّ عَلى سِرّي

    I hastened to the loose end of my cloak,

    to catch my tears before they betrayed my secret.

  20. كَأَنّي وَغَيداقاً طَريدا مَخافَةٍ

    أَصابا دَماً في مالِكٍ وَبَني النَضرِ

    As though Ghaydaq and I were two fear-driven fugitives,

    who had incurred blood-guilt among Malik and Banu al-Nadr.

  21. نُحَلَّأُ عَن ماءِ الحُلولِ وَنَنثَني

    عَلى رَصفِ أَكبادٍ أَحَرِّ مِنَ الجَمرِ

    We are driven from the waters of settled camps, and turn back

    to our livers' hot stones, fiercer than embers.

  22. فَأَينَ بَنو أُمَّ المَكارِمِ وَالنَدى

    وَآلُ الجِيادِ الغُرِّ وَالجامِلِ الدَثرِ

    Where are the sons of the mother of noble deeds and bounty,

    the people of white-blazed steeds and abundant camel herds?

  23. وَأَينَ الطَوالُ الغُلبُ كانَت سُيوفُهُم

    فُرادى عَنِ الأَجفانِ لِلضَربِ وَالعَقرِ

    Where are the tall, mighty men whose swords were

    bare of their scabbards, for striking and hamstringing?

  24. كَأَنَّكَ تَلقى هَجمَةَ الخَطبِ مِنهُمُ

    بِزَيدِ القَنا أَو بِالقَلَمَّسِ أَو عُمرو

    Through them, you seemed to face calamity's assault

    with Zayd of the Lances, or al-Qalammas, or Amr.

  25. إِذا عَدِموا أَثروا طِعاناً وَغَيرُهُم

    لَئيمُ الغِنى يَومَ الغِنى عاجِزُ الفَقرِ

    When destitute, they grew rich in spear-thrusts; others

    are base when wealthy, helpless when poor.

  26. لَهُم كُلُّ شَهقى بِالنَجيعِ كَما رَغا

    قَراسِيَةٌ رَدَّ العَجيجَ عَلى الهَدرِ

    Theirs is every gaping wound that gasps with blood, as bellows

    a mighty camel, adding loud cries to its rumbling.

  27. لَها رَقَصاتٌ بِالدِماءِ كَأَنَّما

    تَشَقَّقُ عَن أَعرافِ أَحصِنَةٍ شُقرِ

    It dances with blood, as though

    splitting open to reveal the manes of chestnut stallions.

  28. تَلَمَّظُ تَلماظَ المَروعِ وَتَنكَفي

    جَواشِنُها مِن مُظلِمِ الجالِ ذي قَعرِ

    It laps like a frightened beast, and its breastplates

    tip and spill from a dark-sided, deep-bottomed hollow.

  29. رَموا بِجِباهِ الخَيلِ مَأسَدَةَ الرَدى

    وَسَدّوا بِمَربوعِ القَنا طِلَعَ الثَغرِ

    They hurled the horses' foreheads into death's lion-haunt,

    and blocked the frontier's gaps with well-proportioned lances.

  30. وَلَم تَدرِ أَيمانُ القَوابِلِ مِنهُمُ

    أَسَلَّت رِجالاً أَم ظُبى قُضُبٍ بُترِ

    The midwives' right hands could not tell, among them,

    whether they drew forth men or the edges of keen, cleaving swords.

  31. هُمُ اِستَفرَغوا ما كانَ في البيضِ وَالقَنا

    فَلَم يَبقَ إِلّا ذو اِعوِجاجٍ وَذو كَسرِ

    They spent all that was in swords and lances,

    leaving none but bent or broken ones.

  32. قِبابٌ مِنَ العَلياءِ أَعلى عِمادَها

    فُحولُ الوَغى بَينَ الزَماجِرِ وَالخَطرِ

    Domes of glory, whose pillars were raised high

    by the stallions of battle amid roars and peril.

  33. بَنوها بِأَيّامِ الطِعانِ وَما بَنَت

    لِتَغلِبَ أَيّامُ الطِعانِ عَلى بَكرِ

    They built them through days of spear-fighting; nothing like them was built

    for Taghlib by days of spear-fighting against Bakr.

  34. يَعودونَ قَد رَدّوا العَظيمَةَ عَن يَدٍ

    وَقَد أَغلَقوا بابَ الطُلاطِلَةِ البِكرِ

    They return having beaten back great calamity by force,

    and shut the gate on a calamity never known before.

  35. وَغَيَّرَ أَلوانَ القَنا طولُ طَعنِهِم

    فَبِالحُمرِ تُدعى اليَومَ لا بِالقَنا السُمرِ

    Their long thrusting changed the colors of their spears,

    so today they are called red, not dusky-brown lances.

  36. غَدَوا سَهَكى الأَيمانِ مِن صَدَءِ الظُبى

    وَراحوا كِراماً طَيِّبي عُقَدِ الأُزرِ

    They went out at dawn, right hands reeking of the blades' rust,

    and returned at evening noble, their waistcloth knots pure.

  37. هُمُ الحاجِبونَ العِرضَ عَن كُلِّ سُبَّةٍ

    إِذا طَرَقوا وَالآذِنونَ عَلى القَدرِ

    They screen their honor from every shame

    when they come by night, yet admit others to their cooking pot.

  38. وَهُم يُنفِدونَ المالَ في أَوَّلِ الغِنى

    وَيَستَأنِفونَ الصَبرَ في أَوَّلِ الصَبرِ

    They spend their wealth away at the first onset of riches,

    and renew their patience at its first trial.

  39. مَليئونَ أَن يُبدوا بِذي التاجِ ذِلَّةً

    إِذا كَرُموا في طاعَةِ الجودِ ذي الطِمرِ

    Well able to bring humiliation upon a crowned man,

    when they act nobly in obedience to rag-clad Generosity.

  40. إِذا سُؤِلوا لَم يُتبَعوا المالَ وَجمَةً

    وَلَم يَدفَعوا في صَفحَةِ الحَقِّ بِالعُذرِ

    When asked, they do not follow their gifts with a scowl,

    nor thrust excuses into the face of rightful claims.

  41. مِنَ البيضِ يَستامونَ وَالعامُ كالِحٌ

    جُدوباً وَمَطّارونَ في الحِجَجِ الغُبرِ

    Bright-faced men, they seek out, when the year scowls,

    barren lands, and rain bounty through dust-gray years.

  42. كَأَنَّ عُفاةَ المَرءِ ذي الطَولِ مِنهُمُ

    يَمُدّونَ أَوذامَ الدِلاءِ مِنَ البَحرِ

    As though those seeking bounty from a wealthy man among them

    were hauling bucket-straps up from the sea.

  43. مَغاويرُ في الجُلّى مَغابيرُ لِلحِمى

    مَفاريجُ لِلغُمى مَداريكُ لِلوِترِ

    Raiders in dire crisis, dust-raisers in defense of the sanctuary,

    relievers of distress, pursuers of vengeance,

  44. سِراعٌ إِلى الوِردِ الَّذي ماؤُهُ الرَدى

    إِذا أُرعِدَ النِكسُ الجَبانُ بِلا قُرِّ

    swift to the watering-place whose water is death,

    when the base coward shivers without any cold.

  45. وَتَأخُذُهُم في ساعَةِ الجودِ هِزَّةٌ

    كَما خايَلَ المِطرابُ عَن نَزوَةِ الخَمرِ

    A thrill seizes them in the hour of giving,

    as a reveler swaggers under wine's sudden surge.

  46. فَتَحسَبُهُم فيها نَشاوى مِنَ الغِنى

    وَهُم في جَلابيبِ الخَصاصَةِ وَالفَقرِ

    You would think them, in that hour, drunk with riches,

    though clad in the robes of want and poverty.

  47. عَظيمٌ عَليهِم أَن يَبيتوا بِلا يَدٍ

    وَهَينٌ عَليهِم أَن يَفيئوا بِلا وَفرِ

    It weighs on them to spend a night without a deed of kindness,

    but is easy for them to return without wealth.

  48. إِذا نَزَلَ الحَيَّ الغَريبُ تَقارَعوا

    عَلَيهِ فَلَم يَدرِ المُقِلَّ مِنَ المُثري

    When a stranger lodges among the clan, they cast lots

    to host him; he cannot distinguish poor from rich.

  49. يَميلونَ في شِقِ الوَفاءِ مَعَ الرَدى

    إِذا كانَ مَحبوبَ البَقاءِ مَعَ الغَدرِ

    They side with death on the side of fidelity,

    when cherished life is allied with treachery.

  50. حَواقِلَةٌ مِثلُ الصَقورِ وَفِتيَةٌ

    إِذا ماحَناني طارِقٌ دَعَموا ظَهري

    Elders like falcons, and young men

    who brace my back when a night-coming trouble assails me.

  51. وَما لَطَموا عَن غايَةِ المَجدِ جَبهَتي

    بَلى خَلَعوا عَنّي لِإِدراكِها عُذري

    They did not slap my brow back from the summit of glory;

    rather, they stripped me of every excuse for not attaining it.

  52. تَوارِكُ لي في حالِ يُسري فَإِن رَأَوا

    دُنُوُّي مِنَ الإِملاقِ جاءَ بِهِم عُسري

    They leave me be when I am well off; but if they see

    me nearing destitution, my hardship brings them.

  53. إِذا أَوهَنَت عَظمي اللَيالي وَجَدتُهُم

    بِأَيدي النَدى وَالطَعنِ قَد جَبَروا كَسري

    When the nights have weakened my bones, I find them

    with hands of bounty and spear-thrusts, having mended my break.

  54. هُمُ أَنهَضوني بَعدَ ما قيلَ لا لَعاً

    وَهُم أَغرَموا الأَيّامَ لي ما جَنى عَثري

    They raised me after the cry, 'May you never rise!'

    and made the days repay me for the harm my stumbling brought.

  55. كَفَوني وَما اِستَكفَيتُهُم مِن ضَراعَةٍ

    تَرافُدَ أَيدي الأَبعَدينَ عَلى نَصري

    They spared me—without my humbly asking their aid—

    the mustering of distant men's hands to my support.

  56. تَرى كُلَّ ذَيّالِ العِطافِ كَأَنَّما

    تَفَرَّجَ مِنهُ اللَيلُ عَن قَمَرٍ بَدرِ

    You see each man with a trailing cloak, as though

    night had parted around him to reveal a full moon.

  57. لَهُ رائِدٌ يَلقاكَ مِن قَبلِ شَخصِهِ

    جَلالاً كَما دَلَّ الضِياءُ عَلى الفَجرِ

    A herald meets you before his person:

    majesty, as light announces the dawn.

  58. يُصَدَّعُ عَنهُ الناظِرونَ كَأَنَّما

    يَرَونَ بِهِ ذا لِبدَتَينِ أَبا أَجرِ

    Onlookers scatter away from him, as though

    they saw in him a double-maned lion, sire of cubs.

  59. لَهُ عَبَقٌ يُغنيهِ عَن طيبِ عِرضِهِ

    سُطوعاً مِنَ البانِ المَدينِيِّ وَالعِطرِ

    His good name sheds a fragrance that leaves him no need

    for wafting Medinan ben-oil or perfume.

  60. لَقَد أولَعَ المَوتُ الزُؤامُ بِجَمعِهِم

    كَأَنَّ الرَدى فيهِم تَحَلَّلَ مِن نَذرِ

    Deadly death has grown intent on gathering them,

    as though Doom, in taking them, were discharging a vow.

  61. وَرَوا كَبِدي في آخِرِ الدَهرِ لَوعَةً

    بِما بَرَّدوا قَلبي عَلى أَوَّلِ الدَهرِ

    They kindled anguish in my liver at life's end,

    because they had cooled my heart in life's early days.

  62. مَضوا فَكَأَنَّ الحَيَّ فَرعُ أَراكَةٍ

    عَلى إِثرِهِم عُرّي مِنَ الوَرَقِ النَضرِ

    They passed away, and the clan is like an arak bough

    stripped, in their wake, of its fresh leaves.

  63. وَأَصبَحَ وِردُ الدَمعِ لِلعَينِ بَعدَهُم

    عَلى الغِبِّ إِذ وِردُ الفِراءِ عَلى العَشرِ

    After them, the eye's watering with tears has become

    a draught every other day, while wild asses drink every tenth.

  64. وَما تَرَكوا عِندَ الرِماحِ بَقِيَّةً

    لِهَزٍّ إِلى يَومِ العَماسِ وَلا جَرِّ

    They left among the spears no remnant

    to shake or drag into a day of desperate battle.

  65. نَبَذتُهُمُ نَبذَ الإِداوَةِ لَم تَدَع

    مِنَ الماءِ ما يُعدي عَلى غُلَّةِ الصَدرِ

    I cast them away like a waterskin that has left

    no water to relieve the burning thirst within the breast.

  66. بَقيتُ مُعَنّىً بِالبَقاءِ خِلافَهُم

    وَما بَينَنا إِلّا قُدَيديمَةُ السَفرِ

    I remain, tormented by surviving after them,

    with nothing between us but a tiny lead on the journey.

  67. وَأَغدوا عَلى آثارِهِم وَوَدادَتي

    لَوَ أَنَّهُمُ الغادونَ بَعدي عَلى إِثري

    I follow in their tracks, though my wish

    is that they were the ones following after me in my wake.

  68. وَفي الحَيَّ بَيتي خالِفاً وَكَأَنَّني

    مِنَ الوَجدِ يوري بَينَ أَقبُرِهِم قَبري

    My house remains behind among the living, yet it is as though

    from grief, my grave lay hidden among their graves.

  69. كَأَنِّيَ مَغلوبٌ عَلى نَصلِ سَيفِهِ

    أَقامَ بِلا نابٍ يَروعُ وَلا ظُفرِ

    I am like one deprived of his sword's blade,

    left without a fang to terrify, or a claw.

  70. فَما أَتَلافى الغَمضَ إِلّا عَلى قَذىً

    وَلا أَتَناسى الوَجدَ إِلّا عَلى ذِكرِ

    I can recapture sleep only with grit beneath my lids,

    and forget anguish only through remembrance.

  71. وَقالوا اِصطَبِر لِلخَطبِ هَيهاتَ إِذ مَضى

    مُقَوِّمُ دَرئي وَالمُعينُ عَلى دَهري

    They said, 'Bear the calamity patiently.' Impossible, since he is gone—

    the straightener of my crookedness, my helper against time.