خليلي ما للبيد قد عبقت نشرا — Rusafi Al Balansi

خَليلَيَّ ما لِلبيدِ قَد عَبَقَت نَشرا

وَما لِرُؤوسِ الرَكبِ قَد رُنِّحَت سُكرا

My two friends, why have the deserts grown fragrant,

and why do the riders' heads sway drunkenly?

هَلِ المِسكُ مَفتوقاً بِمَدرَجَةِ الصَبا

أَمِ القَومُ أَجرَوا مِن بَلَنسِيَةٍ ذِكرا

Is musk unsealed along the east wind's path,

or have the company begun to speak of Valencia?

خَليلَيَّ عُوجا بي عَلَيها فَإِنَّهُ

حَديثٌ كَبَردِ الماءِ في الكَبِدِ الحَرّى

My two friends, turn aside with me toward her, for it is

a tale like water's coolness to a burning heart.

قِفا غَيرَ مَأمورَينِ وَلِتَصديا بِها

عَلى ثِقَةٍ لِلغَيثِ فَاِستَسقِيا القَطرا

Stop, if you please, and there appeal

confidently to the rain clouds: ask for rain

بِجِسرِ مَعانٍ وَالرَصافَةِ إِنَّهُ

عَلى القَطرِ أَن يَسقي الرَصافَةَ وَالجِسرا

upon Ma'an Bridge and al-Rusafa; indeed,

the rain is bound to water al-Rusafa and the bridge.

بِلادي الَّتي ريشَت قُوَيديمتي بِها

فُرَيخاً وَآوَتني قَرارَتُها وَكرا

My homeland, where my little pinion was feathered

as a fledgling, and whose hollow sheltered me as a nest.

مَبادئ لينِ العَيشِ في رَيِّقِ الصِبا

أَبى اللَهُ أَن أَنسى لَها أَبَداً ذِكرا

The beginnings of life's ease, in youth's first freshness—

God forbid that I should ever forget her memory.

لَبِسنا بِها ثَوبَ الشَبابِ لِباسَها

وَلكِن عَرينا مِن حُلاهُ وَلَم تَعرى

There we wore youth's robe, her own attire;

yet we were stripped of its finery, while she was not.

أَمَنزِلَنا عَصرَ الشَبيبَةِ ما الَّذي

طَوى دونَنا تِلكَ الشَبيبَةَ وَالعَصرا

O our home in youth's days, what was it

that folded away from us that youth and those days?

مَحَلٌّ أَغَرُّ العَهدِ لَم نُبدِ ذِكرَهُ

عَلى كَبِدٍ إِلا اِمتَرى أَدمُعاً حُمرا

An abode of radiant memory: never did we speak of it

to a heart without wringing forth red tears.

أَكُلُّ مَكانٍ كانَ في الأَرضِ مَسقَطاً

لِرَأسِ الفَتى يَهواهُ ما عاشَ مُضطَرّا

Is every place on earth that was the birthplace

of a man one he must love for as long as he lives?

وَلا مِثلَ مَدحُوٍّ مِنَ المِسكِ تُربَةً

تُمَلّي الصَبا فيها حَقيبَتَها عِطرا

And nothing equals a land spread with musk for soil,

where the east wind fills its pouch with perfume.

نَباتٌ كَأَنَّ الخَدَّ يَحمِلُ نَورَهُ

تَخالُ لُجيناً في أَعاليهِ أَو تِبرا

Plants whose flowers seem borne upon a cheek;

you imagine silver or gold upon their tops.

وَماءٌ كَتَرصيعِ المَجَرَّةِ جَلَّلَت

نَواحِيَهُ الأَزهارُ فَاِشتَبَكَت زُهرا

And water like the Milky Way's jeweled inlay, draped

along its banks by flowers intertwined like stars.

أَنيقٌ كَرَيعانِ الحَياةِ الَّتي خَلَت

طَليقٌ كَرَيّانِ الشَبابِ الَّذي مَرّا

Lovely as the prime of the life that has passed,

free as the lush bloom of youth now gone.

وَقالوا هَلِ الفِردَوسُ ما قَد عَلِمتُهُ

فَقُلتُ وَما الفِردَوسُ في الجَنَّةِ الأُخرى

They asked whether Paradise was what I had known;

I replied, 'And what is Paradise in the other heaven?'

بَلَنسِيَةٌ تِلكَ الزَبَرجَدَةُ الَّتي

تَسيلُ عَلَيها كُلُّ لُؤلُؤَةٍ نَهرا

Valencia is that chrysolite

over which every pearl streams as a river.

كَأَنَّ عَروساً أَبدَعَ اللَهُ حُسنَها

فَصَيَّرَ مِن شَرخِ الشَبابِ لَها عُمرا

As though she were a bride whose beauty God perfected,

and made youth's prime her entire lifetime.

وَإِن كانَ قَد مدَّت يَدُ البَينِ بَينَنا

مِنَ الأَرضِ ما يَهدي المُجِدّ بِهِ شَهرا

Though the hand of separation has stretched between us

a span of earth a tireless traveler crosses in a month.

تُؤَبَّدُ فيها شَعشَعانِيَّةُ الضُحى

إِذا ضاحَكَ الشَمسُ البُحَيرَةَ وَالنَهرا

The radiance of forenoon is made eternal there

when the sun exchanges smiles with the lake and the river.

تَراجَمُ أَنفاسُ الرِياحِ بِزَهرِها

رُجوماً فَلا شَيطانَ يَقرَبُها ذُعرا

The breaths of the winds pelt one another with her blossoms

as missiles, so no devil comes near her, for fear.

هِيَ الدُرَّةُ البَيضاءُ مِن حَيثُ جِئتَها

أَضاءَت وَمن لِلدُّرِّ أَن يَشبِهُ البَدرا

She is the white pearl: from wherever you approach her,

she shines—and how could a pearl resemble the full moon?

خَليلَيَّ إِن أَصدُر إِلَيها فَإِنَّها

هِيَ الوَطَنُ المَحبوبُ أَوكَلتُهُ الصَدرا

My two friends, if I return to her, it is because

she is the beloved homeland I entrusted to my breast.

وَلَم أَطوِ عَنها الخَطوَ هَجراً لَها إِذاً

فَلا لَثَمَت نَعلي مَساكِنَها الخَضرا

Nor did I withhold my steps from her to forsake her; otherwise,

may my sandal never kiss her green dwellings.

وَلكِنَّ إِجلالاً لِتُربَتِها الَّتي

تَضُمُّ فَتاها النَدبَ أَو كَهلَها الحُرّا

But out of reverence for her soil, which

holds her gallant young man or her noble elder.

أَكارِمُ عاثَ الدَهرُ ما شاءَ فيهِمُ

فَبادَت لَياليهِم فَهَلِ اِشتَكى الدَهرا

Noble men whom Time ravaged however it wished,

so their nights perished—did any complain of Time?

هَجوعٌ بِبَطنِ الأَرضِ قَد ضَرَبَ الرَدى

عَلَيهِم قُبَيباتٍ فُوَيقَ الثَرى غُبرا

Sleepers in earth's belly: Death has raised

over them little dusty domes just above the soil.

تَقَضَّوا فَمِن نَجمٍ هُنالِكَ ساقِطٍ

أَبى اللَهُ أَن يَرعى السِماكَ أَوِ النَسرا

They passed away: there lies a fallen star among them,

which God would not let watch al-Simak or al-Nasr;

وَمَن سابِقٍ هذا إِذا شاءَ غايَةً

شَأى غَيرَ مَجهودٍ جِيادَ العُلا حُضرا

and among them a champion: whenever he sought a goal,

he outstripped, without effort, glory's galloping steeds.

أُناسٌ إِذا لاقَيتَ مِن شيتَ مِنهُمُ

تَلَقَّوكَ لا غَثَّ الحَديثِ وَلا غَمرا

Men who, whichever of them you chose to meet,

greeted you, none dull in speech, none unseasoned.

وَقَد دَرَجتَ أَعمارُهُم فَتَطَلَّعوا

هِلالَ ثَلاثٍ لَو سَنا رَقّ أَو بَدرا

Their lifetimes had run their course, and they rose into view

as a three-night crescent if their radiance waned, or as a full moon.

ثَلاثَةُ أَمجادٍ مِنَ النَفَرِ الأُلى

زَكَوا خَبَراً بَينَ الوَرى وَزَكوا خُبرا

Three illustrious men from the company of those

who were pure in men's reports and pure when put to the test.

ثَكَلتهُم ثُكلاً دَهى العَينَ وَالحَشا

فَفَجَّرَ ذا ماءً وَسَجَّرَ ذا جَمرا

I lost them—a bereavement that struck eye and heart,

making one gush water and the other blaze with embers.

كَفى حَزَناً أَنّي تَباعَدتُ عَنهُم

فَلَم أَلقَ مَن أَسرى مُخفّاً وَلا سرّا

It is grief enough that I was far from them,

so I met no lightly laden night traveler, nor anyone who brought joy.

وَإِنّي مَتى أَسأَل بِهِم كُلَّ راكِبٍ

لِيُظهِرَ لي خَيراً تَأَبَّطَ لي شَرّا

And whenever I ask every rider about them,

to reveal good to me, he carries evil under his arm for me.

أباحِثُهُ عَن صالِحاتٍ عَهِدتُها

هُناكَ فَيُنبيني بِما يَقصِمُ الظَهرا

I question him about good things I once knew

there, and he tells me what breaks the back:

مُحَيّا خَليلٍ غاضَ ماءُ حَياتِهِ

وَساكِنُ قَصرٍ صارَ مَسكَنُهُ القَبرا

a friend's face, whose life-water has ebbed away;

and a palace-dweller whose dwelling became the grave;

وَأَزهَر كَالإِصباحِ قَد كُنتُ أَجتَلي

سَناهُ كَما يَستَقبِلُ الأَرِقُ الفَجرا

and one radiant as daybreak—I used to behold

his brilliance as the sleepless man welcomes dawn.

فَتىً لَم يَكُن خِلوَ الصِفاتِ مِنَ النَدى

وَلَم يَتَناسَ الجودَ أَعدَمَ أَم أَثرى

A young man whose qualities were never void of generosity,

who never forgot bounty, whether destitute or wealthy.

يُصَرِّفُ ما بَينَ اليَراعَةِ وَالقَنا

أَنامِلَهُ لا بَل هَواطِلَهُ الغَرّا

Between the reed pen and the spears he wielded

his fingers—no, rather, his radiant rain clouds.

طَويلُ نِجادِ السَيفِ لانَ كَأَنَّما

تَخَطّى بِهِ في البَردِ خَطِّيَّةً سَمرا

His sword-baldric was long; he was supple, as though

a dusky Khatti spear strode within his mantle.

سَقَتهُ عَلى ما فيهِ مِن أَريحيّةِ

خَلائِقُ هُنَّ الخَمرُ أَو تُشبِهُ الخَمرا

Besides the magnanimity in him, he was given drink by

qualities that were wine, or resembled wine.

وَنَشرُ مُحيا لِلمَكارِمِ لَو سَرَت

حُمَيّاهُ في وَجهِ الأَصيلِ لَما اِصفَرّا

And the fragrance of a face devoted to noble deeds—had

its ardor flowed through late afternoon's face, it would not have yellowed.

هَلِ السَعدُ إِلّا حَيثُ خُطَّ صَعيدُهُ

فَما بَلَّ في شَفرَي ضَريحٍ لَهُ شَفرا

Is good fortune anywhere but where his burial ground was marked out?

Yet it wetted no eyelid at the two edges of his tomb.

طَوَيتُ اللَيالي طَيَّهُنَّ وَإِنَّما

طَوَينَ بِهِ عَنّي التَجَلُّدَ وَالصَبرا

I folded the nights away as they are folded; yet in truth,

through him they folded away my fortitude and patience.

فَلا حُرِمَت سُقياهُ أَدمُعَ مُزنَةٍ

تَرى مَبسَمَ النُوّارِ أَصفَرَ مُغبَرّا

May his watering never be denied the tears of a rain cloud

that sees the blossoms' smiling mouth yellow and dust-covered.

وَما دَعوَتي لِلمُزنِ عُذراً لِدَعوَتي

إِذا ما جَعَلتُ البُعدَ عَن قُربِهِ عُذرا

My prayer to the rain clouds is no excuse for my plea,

if I make distance an excuse for not being near him.

مَعاهِدُ قَد وَلَّت إِذا ما اِعتَبَرتَها

وَجَدتَ الَّذي يَحلو مِنَ العَيشِ قَد مَرّا

Old familiar places have passed away; if you reflect on them,

you find that what was sweet in life has turned bitter.