أأغفل والدهر لا يغفل — Sharif Al Murtaza

أأغفُلُ والدّهرُ لا يغفُلُ

وأنسى الّذي شأنُه أعضلُ

Shall I be heedless, while time is never heedless,

And forget what is most grievous in its nature?

ويطمعني أنّني سالمٌ

وداءُ السّلامة لِي أقتَلُ

My being unscathed tempts me to hope,

Yet the sickness of well-being is deadlier to me.

ويمضي نهاري وإظلامُهُ

بما غيرُه الأحسنُ الأجملُ

My daylight passes, and its darkness,

In things whose alternatives are better and fairer.

وآمُلُ أنّي أفوتُ الحِمامَ

أمانٍ لعَمْرُك لِي ضُلَّلُ

And I hope that I shall escape death—

Misguided hopes of mine, by your life!

وكيف يرى آخِرٌ أنّه

مُبَقّىً وقد هلك الأوّلُ

How can one who comes later think himself

Spared, when the first has perished?

ولمّا بدا شَمَطُ العارضين

لمن كان من قبله يَعذُلُ

When gray appeared in the beard along my cheeks,

To those who had rebuked me before it,

تناهَوْا وقالوا لسانُ المشيب

له من جوارحنا أعذَلُ

They desisted and said: 'The tongue of gray hair

Reproaches him more than our own limbs.'

فقلتُ لهمْ إنّما يعذُلُ ال

مَشيبَ على الغيِّ مَن يُقبِلُ

I told them: 'The only one to reproach

Gray hair is one who turns toward folly.'

فحتّى متى أَنَا لا أرعوِي

ولِمْ لا أقولُ ولا أفعلُ

How long, then, shall I fail to mend my ways?

And why do I neither speak nor act?

وكم أنَا ظمآنُ طولَ الحياةِ

وفي كفِّيَ الباردُ السّلْسَلُ

How often I thirst throughout life,

Though cool, sweet-flowing water is in my palm!

أمانٍ ولا عملٌ بينهنَّ

كجوٍّ يَغيمُ ولا يَهطِلُ

Hopes, without a deed among them,

Like a sky that clouds over but never rains.

وَما الناسُ إلّا كبهمِ المضي

عِ يُحْزِنُ في الأرضِ أو يُسهِلُ

People are only like the lambs of a negligent

Shepherd, crossing rough ground or smooth.

فمن عاملٍ ما له خِبرةٌ

وآخرَ يدري ولا يعملُ

One acts without any knowledge,

And another knows but does not act.

فيا ليتَ مَن علم الموبِقاتِ

وقارفَها رجلٌ يجهلُ

Would that whoever knew the ruinous sins

And committed them were an ignorant man!

أمِن بعد أنْ مضت الأربعون

سراعاً كسربِ القطا يَجفلُ

Is it after forty years have passed,

Swift as a startled flock of sandgrouse,

ولم يبق فيك لشرخ الشّبابِ

مآبٌ يرجّى ولا مَوْئِلُ

And nothing remains in you for youthful prime—

No hoped-for return, nor any refuge—

تَطامحُ نحو طويلِ الحياةِ

ويوشِك أنْ ما مضى أطولُ

That you aspire to a lengthy life?

Yet your past is likely longer than your future.

ألا إنّما الدّارُ دار البلاءِ

ففي شهدها أبداً حَنْظَلُ

Take heed: this abode is only an abode of affliction;

In its honey there is always bitter colocynth.

يعافى من الدّاءِ مَن يُبتَلى

وينجو من الموتِ مَن يُقتَلُ

He who is afflicted is healed of sickness,

And he who is killed escapes death.

وسُقمٌ أقام جميعَ الأُساةِ

على أنّه سَقَمٌ يقتلُ

And a sickness has brought all physicians

To agree that it is a sickness that kills.

أيا ذاهلاً ونداءُ الحتو

فِ في النّاسِ يوقظ مَن يذهَلُ

O heedless one! The call of deaths

Among mankind awakens the heedless.

طريقٌ طويلٌ وأنتَ اِمرؤٌ

لعلّك في زادِهِ مُرْمِلُ

The road is long, and you are a man

Who may lack provisions for it.

أليس وراءَك مُزْوَرَّةٌ

عليها الصَّفائحُ والجَندلُ

Is there not a slanting grave ahead of you,

With stone slabs and rocks upon it?

بها الصّبحُ ليلٌ وليلُ البِلا

دِ ليلٌ بساحتها ألْيَلُ

There morning is night, and the night of the world

Is darker still within its precincts.

إذا ما أناخ الفتى عندها

مقيماً فيا بعدَ ما يَرحَلُ

When the young man encamps beside it,

To stay—how long before he departs!

وإنْ جاءها فوق أيدي الرّجال

فبالرّغم من أنفِهِ ينزلُ

And if he comes to it borne on men's hands,

He must descend against his will.

على أنّه ليس عنها له

وإنْ حاصَ مَنْجىً ولا مَرْحَلُ

For from it he has no

Escape or departure, even if he swerves aside.

مَنازلُ ليس لحيٍّ بها

معاجٌ ولا وسْطَها منزلُ

Abodes where no living soul finds

A stopping-place or a dwelling within.

خَلَتْ غيرَ ذئبٍ تراه بها

يُعاسِلُ أو صُرَدٍ يَحْجِلُ

Deserted, save for a wolf you see there,

Loping, or a shrike that hops;

وإلّا ترنُّمُ حنّانَةٍ

تئطُّ كما زَفَرَ المِرْجَلُ

Or the plaintive song of a creaking bier,

Groaning as a cauldron sighs.

تَريمُ وتقفُل مجتازةً

بمن لا يَريمُ ولا يَقفُلُ

It moves away and returns, passing

Those who neither move away nor return.

ألا أين أهلُ النّعيمِ الغزيرِ

وأين الأجادل والبُزَّلُ

Where now are those of abundant bliss,

And where are the falcons and the full-grown camels?

وأين الغطارفُ من حِمْيَرٍ

وما مُلِّكوه وما خوّلوا

Where are the noble lords of Himyar,

And what they were given to own, and what they were granted?

وَأَين الّذين إِذا ما اِنتَجَوْا

أَزَمَّ بنجواهمُ المحفلُ

Where are those who, when they conferred in private,

Made the assembly hold its tongue at their counsel?

وأَطْرَقَ كلُّ طويلِ اللّسانِ

صَموتاً يُجيبُ ولا يَسألُ

Every long-tongued man bowed his head,

Silent, replying but asking nothing.

إِذا ما مشوا يسحبون البُرودَ

فلِلرَّشفِ ما مَشَتِ الأرجلُ

When they walked, trailing their striped cloaks,

Their feet moved only to kiss the ground.

وقومٌ إذا ما سَرَوْا زعزعوا

قَرَا الأرضِ بالخيلِ أو زلزلوا

And people who, when they traveled by night, shook

The earth's back with horses, or made it quake.

تقام ممالكُهمْ بالقنا

ويَجبِي خراجَهمُ المُنْصلُ

Their kingdoms were upheld by spears,

And the sword collected their tribute.

وكم قلّبوا في العبادِ العيونَ

فلم يُبصروا غيرَ ما أفضَلوا

How often they turned their eyes over mankind,

Yet saw nothing but what they themselves had bestowed!

وتلقاهمُ عند خوفِ البلادِ

وبين بيوتهمُ المَعْقِلُ

You would meet them when the land was afraid,

And the stronghold stood amid their homes.

مضوا مثلما مضت السّاريا

تُ أثنى بها الوطنُ المُبقلُ

They passed away as the night-rainclouds passed;

The verdant homeland sang their praise.

وأزعجهمْ من قِلالِ القصور

فلم يلبثوا المُزعجُ المُعجِلُ

From the heights of palaces they were driven—

They did not linger—by the dislodger, the hastener.