الفخر يرقص كالمسرور والطرب — Mufti Fathallah

الفَخرُ يَرقُصُ كَالمَسرورِ والطرِبِ

وَالعِزُّ يَختالُ وَالعَلياءُ في طربِ

Pride dances like one joyful and enraptured,

And honor struts, while eminence rejoices.

إِذ أَصبَحَ المَجدُ هَذا الآن مُنكَشِفاً

كَالشّمسِ بَعدَ التّواري غَيرَ مُحتَجِبِ

As this glory has now become manifest,

Like the sun after hiding, no longer veiled.

تَبدو عَلى الشّرَفِ الأَعلى كَواكِبُهُ

وَالسّعدُ مَطلعها مَكشوفَةَ الحُجُبِ

Its stars appear upon the highest eminence,

And fortune is their rising-place, with veils removed.

وَالكَونُ يَرقُصُ بِالأَكمامِ مِن فَرَحٍ

كَرَقصَةِ السّقفِ بِالأَقمارِ وَالشّهبِ

And the cosmos dances with its sleeves for joy,

Like the vault dancing with moons and meteors.

يُبدي مِنَ الرّقصِ ما أَضحى وَلا عجبٌ

يَقضي بِهِ عَجباً ناهيكَ مِن عَجَبِ

It displays a dance that has become—no wonder—

A cause of amazement; what a marvel it is!

بَشيرهُ جاءَنا فيهِ يبشِّرنا

يَطيرُ فَوقَ مُتونِ الأَيْنُقِ النُّجُبِ

Its herald came to us, bearing its glad tidings,

Flying over the backs of highbred she-camels.

يَجُرُّ ذَيلَ سُرورٍ مِن بَشائِرِهِ

وَذاكَ أَحسنُ مَجرورٍ وَمُنسحِبِ

He trails a train of joy from his glad tidings,

And that is the loveliest thing dragged and trailed.

جاءَت بِهِ كتبٌ فيهِ تُبَشّرُنا

مِن نَحوِ دارِ العُلى لِلعُجْمِ وَالعَرَبِ

Letters came with it, announcing it to us,

From the direction of the abode of eminence for non-Arabs and Arabs.

دارُ السّعادَةِ وَالإِسعادِ حَيثُ بِها

بابُ المُرادِ وَنيلُ القصرِ والأربِ

The abode of happiness and of granting happiness, wherein lies

The gate to desire, and attainment of the palace and one's wishes.

دارُ المَليكِ اِبن عُثمان الّذي خَضَعَت

لَهُ المُلوكُ بِلا شَكٍّ ولا رِيَبِ

The abode of the sovereign Ibn Uthman, before whom

Kings have bowed, without doubt or misgiving.

وَأَنبَأتنا بِهذا المَجدِ تُسندهُ

عَن مُسنَدِ الصّدقِ لا عَن مسنَدِ الكَذبِ

And they told us of this glory, tracing it

To the authority of truth, not the authority of falsehood.

وَالكتبُ أَنباؤُها لا شَكّ صادِقَةٌ

ما السّيفُ أَصدقُ إِنباءً مِنَ الكتبِ

And the letters' tidings are undoubtedly true;

The sword is no truer in its tidings than letters.

وَبَعدهُ المَجدُ قَد وافى بِمَوكِبِهِ

بِرُتبَةٍ قَد غَدَت مِن أَرفَعِ الرتبِ

And after him, glory arrived with its procession,

With a rank that has become one of the loftiest ranks,

في جَحفَلِ العِزِّ وَالعَلياءِ في شَرفٍ

في دَولَةٍ قَد أَضاءَت جَبهةَ الحقبِ

In a mighty host of honor and eminence, in dignity,

In a dominion that has illumined the brow of the ages.

تَربو المَعالي بِها وَالخير يَحضنها

وَالسّعدُ يَخدِمُها في غايَةِ الأَدَبِ

Lofty deeds flourish within it, and goodness embraces it,

And good fortune serves it with the utmost courtesy.

وَاليُمْن يَلزَمُها وَالنّصرُ يَعضُدها

وَالعَدلُ يَحفَظُها في الدّهرِ من رِيَبِ

And good luck attends it, and victory supports it,

And justice preserves it through time from misfortunes.

أَحسِنْ بِها دَولةً تَبني دَعائِمَها

على الهُدى وَالتّقى مَرفوعَةَ القببِ

How splendid a dominion, building its pillars

On guidance and piety, its domes raised high.

مُرتاحَةٌ بَل وَمُرتاحٌ بِها أَبداً

تَخلو الزّمانَ عَنِ الإِتعابِ وَالتّعَبِ

At ease—indeed, in it one is forever at ease—

Forever free of wearying others and of weariness.

وَإِنّها ميرَميران يُقالُ لَها

أَطيبْ بِذا الإِسم بَينَ الإِسم وَاللّقَبِ

And indeed it is called Miramiran;

How pleasing this name, both as name and title!

أَتَت إِلى أَهلِها وَالمُستَحِقّ لَها

شَمس الكَمالِ شَريف النَّفسِ وَالحسَبِ

It has come to its rightful bearer, to the one deserving it:

The sun of perfection, noble in soul and ancestral honor,

بَدرُ السّيادَةِ طَودُ المَجدِ شامِخُهُ

نَجمُ السّعادَةِ لَم يَأفل وَلَم يَغِبِ

The full moon of lordship, glory's towering mountain,

The star of happiness, never setting or vanishing,

إِنسانُ عَينِ المَعالي نورُ مُقلَتِها

وَحُسنُها الرائِقُ الخالي عَنِ القَهَبِ

The pupil of nobility's eye, the light of its eyeball,

And its pure beauty, free of dusky grayness.

السّيِّدُ الماجدُ المَشهورُ سُؤددهُ

وَسُؤدُدُ المَرءِ ما أَسناهُ مِن نَسَبِ

The glorious lord, whose eminence is renowned—

And a man's eminence—what a lofty lineage it is!

الأَفخَمُ الشّهمُ عبدُ اللَّهِ مَن ضُرِبَت

لَهُ السّيادَة روقاً ثابِتَ الطنبِ

The most magnificent, gallant Abd Allah, for whom was pitched

Lordship as a pavilion with steadfast guy ropes.

الضّيثَمُ الدّوسَكُ الصنديدُ مَن رَهبت

مِنهُ الأُسودُ وَإِن لَو كانَ لَم يَثِبِ

The lion, the mighty lion, the champion dreaded

By lions, even if he has not pounced.

يَسطو بِهَيبَتِه تَعنو الأُسودُ لَها

وَقَد تَرَدَّت بِثَوبِ الرّعبِ وَالرّهبِ

He strikes with his awe; lions bow before it,

Having wrapped themselves in the robe of terror and dread.

تَروح واضِعَةَ الأَيدي عَلى كَبِدٍ

تَحقّقاً أَنّها آلَت إِلى العَطَبِ

They depart, paws laid upon their livers,

Certain that they have come to ruin.

ما بالُه لَو سَطا يَوماً بِأسمرهِ

أَو هَزَّ قاضبه القطّاع لِلقُضبِ

What would he be like, if one day he struck with his dusky spear,

Or brandished his blade, the cleaver of swords?

ما سَلَّ قرضابه الإِصْليتُ ثمّ سَطا

أَلا تَرى كُلَّ عَضبٍ سالَ في القُرُبِ

The fearless warrior has not drawn his cutting sword and charged—

Do you not see every sharp sword melting in its sheath?

لَكِنَّما الحلمُ يَعلوهُ فَتَحسبهُ

أَضحى لِكَثرَتِهِ يَنصَبُّ في صَبَبِ

Yet forbearance envelops him, so you imagine it

Has come, in its abundance, to pour down a slope.

طَلقُ المُحَيّا ضَحوك الثَّغرِ باسِمُهُ

عَذبُ المَلافِظِ بَل تَحلو على الضربِ

Bright of face, his mouth laughing and smiling,

Sweet of speech—indeed, his words out-sweet white honey.

يَفتَرُّ عَن شَنب وَهوَ الهِزبرُ وَما

سِواهُ في الأسدِ بِالمُفترِّ عَن شنَبِ

He smiles, revealing cool, sweet teeth, though a lion; no

Other lion smiles to reveal such cool sweetness.

شِبلُ الأَميرِ عَليٍّ غِيثَ مَضْجَعُه

بِسحِّ غَيثٍ مِنَ الرّضوانِ مُنسَكِبِ

The cub of Emir Ali—may his resting place be watered

With a streaming downpour of divine favor.

وَتلكَ رُتبة عُليا تَورَّثها

عَن كابِرٍ كابِراً في المَجدِ وَالحَسبِ

And that is a lofty rank he inherited

From a great forebear, himself great in glory and ancestral honor.

إِنّي أُهَنّئُ جذلاناً سَعادتهُ

بِهذِهِ الرّتبَةِ العلياءِ في الحقبِ

I joyfully congratulate His Excellency

On this exalted rank amid the ages.

وَخِلتها إِذ أَتَتهُ لا يَزالُ بِها

في الدّهرِ أَرِّخ بَهيّاً أَشرَفَ الرّتَبِ

And I deemed, when it came to him, that he would ever remain in it

Through time—date it splendidly: 'The noblest of ranks.'

يا أَيّها السّيّدُ الصمصامُ لا بَرِحَت

بِكَ المَعالي بِعِزٍّ غَيرِ مُنقَضِبِ

O lord, O keen sword, may they never cease,

Those noble heights through you, in unbroken honor,

تَزهو بِشَرخِ شَبابٍ راقَ رَونَقُهُ

تَشبّ فيك وَلَم تهرم وَلَم تَشبِ

To glory in youth's prime, whose brilliance delights;

They grow young in you, never aging or turning gray.

تَمتَدُّ مِن جاهِك الأَسمى الرّفيع عَلى

أَوجِ السّماكِ وَفَوقَ الأَنجُمُ الشّهبِ

They reach from your loftiest, exalted standing to

The summit of al-Simak, and above the radiant stars.

إِلَيكَ بِنتَ اِفتكارٍ زانَها خَفر

تَختالُ بِالدلِّ في حُسنٍ وَفي أَدبِ

Accept a daughter of reflection, whom modesty adorns,

She moves proudly with coy charm, in beauty and refinement.

تَسقيكَ مِن عَذبِ مَعناها الرّقيق طُلىً

أَحلى مِنَ الشّهدِ تُزري بِاِبنَةِ العنبِ

She pours you wine from the sweetness of her delicate meaning,

Sweeter than honey, shaming the daughter of grapes.

بِنت الفَصاحَةِ في حُسنِ البديعِ بَدَت

لَها البَلاغَةُ قَد أَضحَت أَجلَّ أَبِ

A daughter of eloquent speech, she appears in the beauty of rhetorical art;

Eloquence has become her noblest father.

مِنها المَحاسِنُ فاضَت مِن بَلاغَتِها

كَأَنّها النورُ إِذ يَبدو مِنَ اللّهَبِ

Beauties flow from her, from her eloquence,

As though they were light when it emerges from flame.

في مَدحِكَ العالِ زينَت مِن جَواهِرِهِ

بِزينَةِ الدّرِّ وَالمرجانِ وَالذّهبِ

In lofty praise of you, she was adorned with its jewels,

With an adornment of pearls, coral, and gold.

جاءَت إِلَيكَ أَخا العَلياءِ جاريَةً

لِقبلةِ الكفِّ وَالأَذيال وَالعتبِ

She came to you, brother of eminence, as a handmaid,

To kiss your hand, your hems, and your thresholds.

تَرجو وَتَأملُ إِحساناً وَتَكرُمَة

منكَ الرّضا فَهوَ أَسنى القصدِ وَالطّلبِ

She hopes and longs for kindness and honor

From you—your approval is the loftiest aim and quest.

فَاِنظُر بِعَينِ قَبولٍ نَحوَها كَرَماً

فَمَن تَرجّاك لَم يُطرَد وَلَم يخبِ

So look toward her with an eye of acceptance, generously,

For whoever has hoped in you has not been turned away or disappointed.

وَاِسلَم وَدُم في ضَمانِ اللَّهِ مُحتمياً

مِن كُلِّ مُؤذٍ وَلَو كالهمِّ والنّصبِ

And be safe and abide in God's keeping, sheltered

From every harmful thing, even worry and weariness.

ما قامَ في مِنبَرِ الأَغصانِ يَخطبنا

خَطيب وُرْقٍ فَأَبدى أَطرَب الخطبِ

As long as there stands on the pulpit of branches to address us

A gray-dove preacher, offering the most enchanting sermons;

ما لاحَ بَرقٌ وَسُلطانُ النّهارِ أَتى

وَعَسكَرُ اللّيلِ وَلَّى راكِبَ الهربِ

As long as lightning flashes and the sultan of day arrives,

And the army of night turns away, astride flight;

وَما القَصيدُ بِحُسنِ المَدحِ مختتمٌ

حسنَ الختامِ تَحلّى حِلية العَجبِ

And as long as verse ends in beautiful praise,

Fair in its close, arrayed in the ornament of wonder.