رويدك أيها الدهر الخؤون — ابن عبدون الفهري

رُوَيدَكَ أَيُّها الدَهرُ الخَؤونُ

سَتَأكُلُنا وَإِيّاكَ المَنونُ

Easy now, O treacherous Time!

Death will devour us and you.

تعلّلنا الأَماني وَهيَ زورٌ

وَتَخدَعُنا اللَيالي وَهيَ خونُ

Hopes lull us, though they are falsehood,

And the nights deceive us—they are treacherous.

وَكَم غَرَّت بِزبرجِها قُرونا

فَما أَبقَت وَلا بَقَتِ القُرونُ

And how many generations they have beguiled with their glitter!

So they spared none, nor did the generations endure.

فُجِعتُ بِزاهِرٍ مِن سِرِّ فهرٍ

كَبَدرِ التَمِّ هالَتهُ عرينُ

I was bereft of a radiant man of Fihr's noblest stock,

Like the full moon, his halo a lion's lair;

بِأَروَعَ مَلء عينِ الحُسنِ قيداً

إِذا أَخَذَت مَجاريها العُيونُ

A splendid man, filling beauty's eye, a fetter for the gaze,

When eyes followed their courses;

مُنير العِرضِ فَضفاض المَساعي

طَويل الباعِ ناديه رَزينُ

Radiant in honor, expansive in his endeavors,

Long of reach, his assembly dignified.

سَمت فَوقَ السَماءِ بِهِ ظُهورٌ

وَما حَطَّتهُ إِذ حَطَّت بُطونُ

Ancestral loins raised him above heaven,

Nor did wombs abase him when they brought him forth.

فَأَنضَبَتِ المَنايا مِنهُ بَحراً

جَواريهِ صُفونٌ لا سَفينِ

So death drained dry a sea in him,

Whose vessels were poised steeds, not ships;

وَأَغمضَتِ البَسيطَةُ مِنهُ نَصلاً

طَوابِعُهُ قُيولٌ لا قُيونُ

And the earth buried, in him, a blade,

Whose forgers were princes, not smiths.

مَضى مَن لَو سَبَقتُ لما تَعَزّى

وَلا جَفَّت لَهُ بَعدي جُفونُ

Gone is he who, had I gone first, would not have found consolation,

Nor would his eyelids have dried after me.

وَأَبقَتني يَدُ الأَيّامِ فَرداً

كَما غَدَرَت بِيُسراها اليَمينُ

And the hand of days left me alone,

As the right hand betrayed its left.

وَهَل يبقى عَلى غِيَرِ اللَيالي

شَفيقٌ أَو شَقيقٌ أَو قَرينُ

And through the nights' reversals, can there remain

A loving friend, a full brother, or a companion?