عسى يدنيك يا بلدي إياب — Dhafer Al Haddad

عَسى يُدْنيكَ يا بلدي إيابُ

وهَبْ ذا تَمَّ لي أين الشبابُ

May a return bring you near, O my homeland.

And suppose that comes true for me—where is youth?

لَحَا اللهُ النَّوَى فأخفُّ شيءٍ

يُكابِده الفتى منها عَذاب

May God curse separation, for the lightest thing

a young man endures from it is torment.

أُحادِثُ فيك أحداثَ الليالي

حديثاً طالَ أكثُره عِتاب

I speak of you to the calamities of the nights,

in a discourse grown long, mostly reproach.

وقد كانتْ إذا اعتذرتْ أَجابتْ

فزال العذرُ وانقطع الجواب

Once, when they offered excuses, they would answer;

then the excuse vanished, and the answer ceased.

وبي أسفٌ له في كل عضوٍ

وأَخْفَى شَعْرةٍ مني شِهاب

Within me is a grief that has, in every limb

and in my most hidden hair, a blazing spark.

عَدِمتُك والشبابَ فلو دَهَتْني

مُصيبةُ واحدٍ سَهُل المُصاب

I lost you and youth; had I been struck

by the loss of only one, the affliction would have been easier.

فمالي منكما أبدا بَديلٌ

ولا بلدٌ يَنوبُ ولا خِضاب

For neither of you will I ever find a substitute:

no country can replace you, nor hair-dye youth.

ولكنْ بالشّباب الغضِّ شَيْبٌ

أُكابِدُه وبالوطنِ اغْتِراب

But in place of tender youth there is gray hair,

which I endure, and in place of homeland, exile.

ومن صَحِب الليالي ذاقَ منها

ضُروبا ضِمنْها ضَرَبٌ وصاب

Whoever keeps company with the nights tastes from them

many varieties, among them honey and bitter sap.

وشَرْقيَّ المَحجَّةِ لي غَزالٌ

تُحجِّبه الصَّوارمُ والحِراب

East of the highway I have a gazelle,

concealed by sharp swords and spears.

بذلتُ له دمي من بعد مالي

وقَصْدي منه في العِوض الرُّضاب

I offered him my blood after my wealth,

seeking from him in exchange the sweet moisture of his lips.

وحولَ القُبَّة العَلْياء قومي

جُذامُ وحَسْبُك الأُسْد الغِضاب

Around the lofty dome stand my people,

Judham—and angry lions suffice to describe them.

بَراثُنها الأَسِنَّةُ والمَواضِي

ولكنْ حولَها للسُّمْرِ غَاب

Their claws are spearheads and keen swords,

but around them stands a forest of brown spears.

إذا طَلبتْ دمي لم تَرْضَ فيه

إذا اخْتصرَتْ بمن حَمَل التراب

When they seek my blood, they will not be satisfied—

in short—with anyone the earth has borne.

فلو فَزِع الحمامُ لَهوْلِ شيءٍ

لأَفْزَعه لها ظُفُر وناب

Were death to fear the terror of anything,

a claw and fang of theirs would surely frighten it.

وحسبك بالنَّوَى مني بعادا

فهَلاّ في الكَرَى منكِ اقْتراب

Let separation suffice you for distance from me;

why not draw near to me in sleep?

وهَبْكِ فررتِ خوفَ العَيْبِ يَقْظَى

فهل في زَوْرةٍ للطيفِ عاب

Granted, you fled while awake for fear of blame;

but is there blame in a visit from your dream-image?

وفي الإسكندرية لي فُؤادٌ

له في مِصْرَ جُثْمانٌ خراب

In Alexandria I have a heart,

whose ruined body is in Misr.

يَدِيُنك طاعةً سرا وجهرا

وليس له على عملٍ ثَواب

It obeys you in secret and in public,

yet receives no reward for any deed.

بذاك الثغرِ أَضْحَكني زمانٌ

بُكاىَ عليه نَوْحٌ وانْتِحاب

In that seaport, a time once made me laugh;

my weeping for it is lamentation and sobbing.

سَقى تلك المعاهدَ كلُّ عهدٍ

تَفيض على الهِضاب له هِضاب

May every recurring rain water those haunts,

its hills of cloud spilling upon the hills.

مَضتْ لي في جَزيرتها لَيالٍ

لآَلٍ هنّ لو قِيل الصَّواب

I spent nights on its island—

pearls they were, if truth be told.

فلو نُظِمت قَلائدَ للغواني

لَماَ رَضِيتْ عن الدُّرِّ الرقاب

Had they been strung as necklaces for lovely women,

no neck would have been content with pearls.

كأنّ البدرَ فيها عينُ ماءٍ

لها من فائض النورِ انْسِكاب

The full moon there seemed a spring of water,

with an outpouring of abundant light.

تُضىء بها المساجدُ فهي تَزْهُو

بياضا مثل ما تزهو الكَعاب

The mosques shine by its light, resplendent

in whiteness, as a budding maiden glows.

تُجاورها مَنارتُها وفيها

وفي فانوسِها عَجَبَ عُجاب

Its lighthouse stands beside them, and in it

and in its lantern is an extraordinary wonder:

فتاةٌ غادةٌ بإزاءِ شيخٍ

قصيرٍ طالَ بينهما العتاب

a graceful young woman facing an old man,

short of stature, with long reproaches passing between them.

سَقى اللهُ السَّوارىَ بالسَّوارى

ودَرَّت في مَذاهِبِها الذِّهاب

May God water the columns with night-rains,

and may rains stream freely along their paths.

فكم عيدٍ بها أَهْدَى وأَدْنَى

حبيباً كانَ أَبْعَده اجْتِناب

How many a feast day there offered and brought near

a beloved whom avoidance had kept away.

وفي البابِ القديمِ قديمُ عهدٍ

يُذَكِّرنيِه للنُّزَهِ الذّهاب

At the Old Gate is an old remembrance,

which going out for pleasure brings back to me.

وسيفُ خليجِها كالسيفِ حَدّاً

وفي أَرجِ الرياحِ له اضطراب

The bank of its canal is sharp as a sword,

and it quivers in the wafting winds.

يَمُدُ مُدىً تُلَّقب بالمجَارِي

وليس لمُدْيَةٍ منْها قِراب

It sends forth blades called watercourses,

and not one of those knives has a sheath.

وإيقاعُ الضفادعِ فيه عالٍ

وللدولاب زَمْرٌ وَاصْطِخاب

The frogs beat out a loud rhythm in it,

and the waterwheel pipes and clamors.

وَتكسوه الرّياحُ دروعَ حرْبٍ

ولا طعنٌ هناك ولا ضِراب

The winds clothe it in coats of mail,

though there is neither thrusting nor striking there.

وترقُص في جوانِبه غصونٌ

كرقصٍ الغِيد مادَ بها الشّراب

Boughs dance along its banks,

like graceful women swaying with wine.

وتشدو بينَها الأطيارُ شَدْوا

رَخيما للقلوبِ به انْجِذاب

Birds sing among them,

a mellow song that draws hearts to it.

وكم لي بالكنيسة من كِناسٍ

به رَشَأُ جَلَتْه لنا القِباب

How many a gazelle's covert I have in the church,

with a fawn the domes unveiled to us.

وكم لي بالمجاَلسِ من جلوسٍ

تحفُّ به الأَحبةُ والصِّحاب

How often I have sat in gathering places,

surrounded by loved ones and companions.

وبحرُ المِلحْ مثل الفحلِ يَرْغُو

ويُزْبِد حين يُقْلِقه الهِباب

The salt sea bellows like a male camel,

and foams when gusts disturb it.

وتحسب سفنه صفةً ولونا

فُيولا حينَ يرفعُها العُباب

You would think its ships, in shape and color,

elephants as the surging waves lift them.

وأذكُر قصرَ فارسَ والمعلَّى

ففيِه لكلِّ موعظةٍ مَناب

I recall the palace of Faris and al-Mu‘alla,

for it can stand in place of every admonition.

وَهي من بعد قوته فأضْحَى

كما بَركتْ على الغبراءِ نابُ

It weakened after its might and came to lie

like an aged she-camel kneeling on the dusty earth.

وأفَنتْ مُلْكَ ساكِنه الليالي

وكم فاضتْ بعسكرِه الشِّعاب

The nights destroyed its dweller's dominion,

though ravines once overflowed with his army.

فأصبحَ دِمْنةً تَغْدُو السَّوافى

عليه وقَصْرُه قَفرٌ يَباب

It became a ruined site; sand-laden winds sweep

over it, and his palace is a barren waste.

تَنوح الهاتفاتُ على ذُراه

وتُعْشِبُ في أسافِله الرِّحاب

Calling birds lament upon its heights,

and courtyards at its foot grow grassy.

ففي تلك الشَّقائقِ منه شاقتْ

شَقائقُ شُقِّقَتْ منها الثياب

Within those clefts of its ground, longing was stirred

by anemones, as though garments had been cut from them.

تراءتْ من كَمائِمِه فكانتْ

كحُمْر اللاّذِ أَبْدَتْها العِياب

They emerged from its buds and were

like red silk brought forth from clothes-chests.

تُحَرّكها الصَّبا فتَخالُ فيها

بحارَ دمٍ يُموِّجها انْصِبابُ

The east wind stirs them, and in them you imagine

seas of blood made to surge by an outpouring.

كأنّ الْخَمْرةَ الحَمْراء رَاقتْ

وأوراقُ الشَّقيقِ لها قِعاب

As though red wine had become clear,

and the anemone petals were its cups.

وتحسَب فحمةً في كل ساقٍ

أحاط سِوَى اليسيرِ بها الْتهاب

You imagine a coal in every stem,

almost wholly encircled by flame.

كأنَّ الأقحوانَ به ثغور

مُفلَّجةٌ مُؤشَّرةٌ عِذاب

The daisies there seem like mouths,

sweet, with gapped and finely notched teeth.

وقد بَهَرتْ دنانيرٌ دَعَوْها

بَهارا كَنْزُها ذاكَ الحَباب

Dazzling were the dinars they called

bahar; their treasure was that foam.

فظهْرُ الظاهِريِة لي مُقام

تَخُبُّ بنا إلى دَدِه الرِّكاب

The ridge of al-Zahiriyya is a haunt of mine;

mounts trot with us toward its merriment.

ولا سِيَمَا إذا كُسِيت رُباها

ملابسَ كان يَرْقُمها السحاب

Especially when its hills are clothed

in garments embroidered by the clouds.

وكم يومٍ لنا بالرملِ فيه

حديثٌ مثل ما نثُر السحاب

How many a day was ours at al-Raml, with

conversation like the rain the clouds scatter.

حديثٌ كاسمِه فينا حديثٌ

كما يَسْقِى أَخا ظمأٍ ثِغاب

Talk, fresh among us, as its name implies,

like rock pools giving drink to a thirsty man.

جلسْنا والرمالُ لنا َحشايا

وأوراقُ الكُرومِ لنا حِجاب

We sat, the sands our cushions,

and vine leaves our veil.

على الكُثْبان أضكْثِبة سِمانٌ

وفي الأغْصان أغصانٌ رِطاب

Upon the dunes were plump mounds,

and among the boughs were supple boughs.

به القَصْران كالرِّجْلين لاحا

على بُعْدٍ يُقِلُّهما السَّراب

There the two palaces appeared like two legs,

in the distance, held aloft by the mirage.

أقاما صاحبَين مع الليالي

ولم يَنْعَب ببيْنِهما الغراب

They remained companions through the nights,

with no raven croaking of their separation.

ولكنْ سوف يفترقان قسْرا

وهل يبقَى مع الدهرِ اصطحاب

Yet they will be forced apart;

does companionship endure with time?

أَإخواني بذاك الثَّغْرِ عندي

لكم وُدٌّ يَروق فلا يُشاب

O my brothers in that seaport, I hold

for you a love that shines and is never sullied.

رسَا تحتَ الثَّرَى وعلى الثُّرَيّا

فدُونَ ثَباتِه الشُّمُّ الصِّلاب

It stands firm beneath the earth and upon the Pleiades;

the lofty, solid mountains fall short of its firmness.

أُؤمِّلُ أن تُقرِّبنا الليالي

وآيَسُ حين يُعجِزني الطِّلاب

I hope the nights will bring us close,

then despair when the quest defeats me.

وكم سببٍ تَوجَّه ثم تأتِي

عوائقُ ما ألمَّ بها الحساب

How many a way has opened, and then there come

obstacles that no reckoning foresaw.

وكم سلمتُ للأٌقدارِ لكنْ

جِبِلَّةُ كلِّ مَنْ نُكِب اكتئاب

How often I have yielded to fate; yet

dejection is the nature of everyone struck by calamity.

سأَدعو الله معْ سَرَف المَعاصِي

فقد تدعو العُصاة وقد تُجاب

I shall pray to God despite my excess of sins,

for sinners may pray and be answered.

على تلك الدِّيارِ ومَنْ حَوَتّها

سلامٌ كالسلامةِ يُسْتَطاب

Upon those dwellings and those who inhabited them,

be peace, as welcome as safety itself.

يُكرِّره لساني بل كتابي

بلِ الأيامُ إنْ دَرَس الكتاب

My tongue repeats it—rather, my writing does;

rather, the days themselves, if the writing fades.