قد زرت ليلة هومنا على العيس — Sharif Al Murtaza

قَد زرتَ لَيلةَ هوّمنا عَلى العيسِ

ونحن نطوِي الفَلا من غير تعريسِ

You visited on the night we dozed upon the white camels,

while we traversed the wilderness without a nighttime halt.

زِيارةً إِنْ تكنْ زوراً فقد نفعتْ

ونفَّسَتْ من خِناقٍ أيِّ تنفيسِ

A visit that, even if unreal, brought benefit

and loosened a choking grip—what a relief!

وَمُتعةٍ لم يسر فيها الملامُ ولا

أُطيعَ أمرٌ بها يوماً لإبليسِ

And a delight into which no reproach crept, nor

was any command of Iblis ever obeyed in it.

أمسكتُ نفسي بها والهمُّ يَحفزُها

حَفْزَ الرّياح ثرى البِيدِ الأماليسِ

I steadied my soul with it while grief drove it

as winds drive the dust of smooth deserts.

ماذا أَردتَ بما أولَيْتَنِيهِ فقدْ

أنِستُ من جَزْعِ وادٍ غير مأنوسِ

What did you intend by what you bestowed on me? For

I found comfort in a bend of an unfrequented valley.

وَكَيفَ عاجَ شبابٌ لا اِزوِرارَ بهِ

وَلا اِعوِجاجَ على شَيْبٍ وتقويسِ

And how did youth, itself unswerving, turn aside,

without crookedness, toward gray hair and a bowed back?

وَما ظَننتُ طَليقاً ما لَهُ أرَبٌ

يأتي بجُنْحِ اللّيالي رَبْعَ محبوسِ

I never thought a free one, with no need to satisfy,

would come in the darkness of night to a captive's abode.

حَلفتُ بِالبيتِ مَلْقى اللّائذين بهِ

هُناكَ ما بينَ تَسبيحٍ وتقديسِ

I swore by the House, the meeting place of those seeking refuge in it,

there, amid glorification and sanctification.

أَتَوْه مثرِيَّةً ذنباً أكفُّهُمْ

وفارقوه بأَيْمانٍ مفاليسِ

They came to it, their palms rich in sin,

and left it with bankrupt right hands.

والمَوْقِفَين ومن ضحّوا على عجلٍ

عند الجمِار من الكُوم المقاعيسِ

And by the two stations, and those who hastily sacrificed

huge-humped, hollow-backed camels beside the stoning pillars;

وما أراقوه من جاري دمٍ بمنىً

وأنشروا من نَجيعٍ ثَمَّ مَرْموسِ

and by the flowing blood they spilled at Mina,

and the gore they revived there, once buried:

للمالُ أبذُلُهُ للطّالبين له

جزءٌ من المال مغموماً به كيسي

Indeed, the wealth I give to those who ask for it

is a portion of the wealth that burdens my purse.

والذّكرُ منّي وإنْ رُحِّلْتُ تنقله

نجوىَ الرّجال وأسطارُ القراطيسِ

And my renown, even if I am borne away, will be carried

by men's private talk and the written lines of papers.

وَإنْ بقيتُ فَللعلياءِ أَركبها

وَالمَجد ما بين تصبيحٍ وتغليسِ

And if I live on, I ride them in quest of the heights

and glory, between daybreak and predawn darkness.

وَلِلمآربِ وَالحاجاتِ أَبلغُها

في المَأثُراتِ عَلى رَغمِ المَعاطيسِ

And I attain my aims and needs

through noble deeds, despite their noses.

وَإِنْ هُدِمْتُ كما شاءَ العدا بردىً

فما تهدّم بنيانِي وتأسيسي

And if I am demolished by death, as my foes wished,

my building and foundation have not crumbled.

وإنْ فُقِدْتُ فلم يُفقَدْ كما علموا

قهري الأساودَ والآسادَ في الخِيسِ

And if I am lost, they know that what is not lost

is my subduing of black snakes and lions in the thicket.

فَلَيسَ تَعريسُ مَن يرمي به قدرٌ

قعرَ الحَفيرةِ إلّا كالتّعاريسِ

The halt of one whom fate casts

to the bottom of the grave is only like other halts.

وَما حَنينِيَ إلّا لِلعَلاءِ إِذا

حنّ الرّجالُ إلى هذي الطّراميسِ

My yearning is only for eminence, when

men yearn for these palaces.

وَسيّرتْ سيرتي صحفُ الرُّواة وكم

من الأحاديث ملقىً غير مطروسِ

The narrators' pages have spread my story abroad; how many

tales lie cast aside, never inscribed!

أغدو وعِرْضيَ محروسٌ بلا أَمَلٍ

يَسمو إليه ومالي غيرُ محروسِ

I go forth, my honor guarded, with no ambition

rising to reach it, while my wealth is unguarded.

عَزَّ الّذي لا يبالي أين مسكُنُه

ولا يفرّق بين الخَفْضِ والبوسِ

Mighty is he who cares not where he dwells

and makes no distinction between ease and hardship.

يا للرّجالِ لهمٍّ باتَ يَصحَبُني

أَنّى أَقمتُ وفي سيري وتعريسي

O men, help me against a care that keeps me company

wherever I stay, in my travels and my halts.

كَأنّني راكبٌ منهُ عَلى حَذَرٍ

قَرا طريقٍ خفيّ الأثْرِ مطموسِ

As though, wary of it, I were riding

the spine of a road with its traces hidden and erased.

لَم يُعيِني بعد أن أعيا الرّجال معاً

من بين شُمٍّ كنجم الأُفق أو شُوسِ

It has not wearied me, after exhausting all the men,

whether lofty as the horizon's star or fiercely scowling.

ولم يَرُعْنِي وقد راعت صواعقُهُ

وسْط العرينِة أحشاءَ العنابيسِ

Nor has it terrified me, though its thunderbolts have terrified

the entrails of fierce lions within their den.

وَلا مزيّةَ لَولا ما يَجيء بهِ

فضلُ الفتى بين مسعودٍ ومنحوسِ

There would be no distinction, were it not for what is brought

by a man's merit, between the fortunate and the ill-starred.

ولم أكنْ قبلُ في فضلٍ بمتَّبِعٍ

ولم أكنْ قطُّ في حيٍّ بمدموسِ

I was never before a follower in excellence,

nor ever buried in obscurity among a tribe.

سَلْ عن ضِرابي وَعَن طَعني لدَى رَهَجٍ

نحرَ الكميِّ وهاماتِ الكراديسِ

Ask of my blows and thrusts amid the battle-dust—

the armored warrior's throat and the skulls of battalions.

وَالسُّمرُ تترك في كفّي نحورَهُمُ

مقسومةً بين معضوضٍ ومنهوسِ

The brown lances in my hand leave their throats

divided between the bitten and the nipped.

وَالبيضُ تُسْمِعُ في هام الرّجال وفي

أعضائهمْ مثلَ أصواتِ النّواقيسِ

And the bright blades sound within men's heads and

their limbs like the tolling of bells.

جاؤوا صحاحاً بلا جُرحٍ ولا أثرٍ

ثُمّ اِنثنَوا بين مضروبٍ ومدعوسِ

They came sound, without wound or mark,

then withdrew, some struck and others speared.

وإِنَّنِي كلَّ من شاغبتُ أفرِسُهُ

ولم أزلْ في الأعادي غيرَ مفروسِ

Indeed, I tear apart everyone I contend with,

and among enemies I have never been torn apart.

لا أَوحشَ اللّهُ منّي كلَّ مُضطَجَعٍ

منَ الفخارِ ولا رَحْلي ولا عِيسي

May God never leave bereft of me any resting place

of glory, nor my saddle nor my white camels.

وَلا رأَتْنِيَ عينٌ قطّ مرتدياً

عاراً ولا كان من شنعاء ملبوسي

Nor may any eye ever see me wearing

shame, nor may disgrace be what I wear.

بُخِسْتُ دونَ الورى ظلماً وما نظرتْ

عينايَ ذا مأثُرَاتٍ غيرَ مبخوسِ

I was unjustly slighted among mankind; yet

my eyes have seen no man of noble deeds who was not slighted.

وَقَد قبستُ جميلاً دونَهم بيَدي

وأيُّ خيرٍ لفضلٍ غير مقبوسِ

Indeed, with my own hand I drew a spark of goodness, apart from them;

and what good is merit from which no spark is drawn?

كُن مالِكاً قمَم السّاداتِ كلِّهمُ

أو لا فكن مفرداً في قِمّة القُوسِ

Be master of the summits of all the nobles,

or else stand alone at the summit of the hermitage.

إِنْ كانَ بَيتُك خِلْواً لا جميلَ به

فإنّ بيتِيَ منه غيرُ مكنوسِ

If your house is empty, with no goodness in it,

my house has not been swept clean of it.

وَإِن تَكُن في مَلامِ القومِ منغمساً

فإنّني في ملامٍ غيرُ مغموسِ

And if you are immersed in the people's reproach,

I am not steeped in reproach.

وَإِنْ تَوقّفتَ عَن مَغْنَى العُلا فعلى

وادي الفَضيلة تَوقيفي وتَحبيسي

And if you stop short of the abode of eminence, then

in the valley of virtue are my station and my confinement.

وَما دَنِستُ بعارٍ في الرّجال وما

لَمْسُ الكَواكب إلّا دونَ تَدنيسي

I have never been sullied by shame among men; and

touching the stars is easier than sullying me.

لا تُسكِننّي وكَيْسي أنتَ تعرفُهُ

إلّا جوارَ المناجيب الأكاييسِ

Do not lodge me—and you know my discernment—

except beside the noble and discerning.

كَأنّ أَوجههمْ مِن نورها غَصَبَتْ

ضوءَ الصّباح وأنوارَ المقاييسِ

As though their faces, in their radiance, had seized

the morning's light and the radiance of reasoned proofs.

ولا تُعجْ بِي على وادي الخمول ولا

شِعْبِ اللّئامِ وأجزاعِ الضَّغابيسِ

Do not turn aside with me toward the valley of obscurity, nor

the ravine of the base and the valley bends of weaklings.

فَليسَ منكَ جَميلاً أنْ تجاورَ بِي

مع الطّهارةِ أبياتَ الأراجيسِ

It is not gracious of you to make me a neighbor,

pure as I am, to the dwellings of the filthy.

لَولايَ لَم يهتد الأَقوام كلُّهُمُ

سُبْلَ الكلامِ ولا طُرْقَ المقاييسِ

Without me, none of the peoples would have found

the paths of discourse or the ways of reasoned proofs.

درستُهُ فهْو مِلْءُ العين تُبصره

غضّ النّواحي جديداً غيرَ مدروسِ

I studied it; now it fills the eye as you behold it,

fresh at its edges, new and unworn.

وبِتُّ أُوضحُهُ حتّى جعلتُ بما

كشفتُ ما كان مظنوناً كمحسوسِ

And I spent the night clarifying it, until I made, through what

I unveiled, what was conjectured like something sensed.

فَما مَشوا فيه إلّا تُبَّعاً أثري

ولا جنوا غيرَ أشجاري ومغروسي

They walked through it only following my footsteps,

and reaped nothing but my trees and my plantings.

وَكانَ مِن قبل أن محّضتُ صفوتَهُ

مردّداً بين تلبيسٍ وتدليسِ

Before I refined its pure essence, it had been

wavering between confusion and deception,

وَبائراً لا يزالُ الدّهرِ حِليَتهُ

وعاثِرَ الحظّ لولا فَرْطُ تحبيسي

and unsought, with time ever its adornment,

and ill-starred, but for my unstinting dedication.