Sol 6.1

  1. عاتَبْتُ لو سمعَ القريبُ عتابي

    وكتبتُ لو قرأ البعيدُ كتابي !

    I would have reproached, had the one near me heard my reproach,

    and I would have written, had the distant one read my letter!

  2. وسألتُ لو أنَّ الذين مَحَضْتُهُم

    وِدّي أضاؤوا حيرتي بجوابِ !

    And I would have asked, had those to whom I gave

    my pure affection lit my bewilderment with an answer!

  3. وَعَصَرْتُ ماءَ العينِ لو أنَّ الأسى

    أبقى بحقلِ العمرِ عُشْبَ شبابِ

    And I would have wrung tears from my eye, had grief

    left youth's grass in the field of life.

  4. وَأنَبْتُ عني لو يُنابُ أخو الهوى

    بسخينِ أحداقٍ ونزفِ إهابِ

    And I would have appointed a proxy for myself, could a lover be represented

    in the heat of eyes and the bleeding of skin.

  5. وَتَرَنَّمتْ لو لم تكن مشلولةً

    شفتي ... ومصلوبَ اللحونِ ربابي

    And it would have sung, had it not been paralyzed—

    my lip—and had my rebab's melodies not been crucified.

  6. كيف الغناءُ؟ حدائقي مذبوحةٌ

    أزهارُها ... ويبيسةٌ أعنابي

    How can there be song? In my gardens, slaughtered

    are their flowers, and withered are my grapes.

  7. شجري بلا ظِلٍّ .. وكلُّ فصولهِ

    قيظٌ .. وظمآنُ الغيومِ سحابي

    My trees have no shade, and all their seasons

    are scorching heat, and my clouds thirst for clouds.

  8. طَرَقَ الهوى قلبي .. وحين فَتَحْتُهُ

    ألقى به عصفاً وعودَ ثقابِ

    Love knocked at my heart, and when I opened it,

    it cast chaff and a matchstick inside.

  9. حتى إذا كشَفَ الضحى عن شمسهِ

    ألفيتُني ميتاً بنبضِ ثيابِ

    Until, when the forenoon unveiled its sun,

    I found myself dead, with the pulse of clothes.

  10. يتقاتل الضِدّان بين أضالعي :

    عَزْمُ اليقينِ وحيرةُ المرتابِ

    The two opposites battle between my ribs:

    certainty's resolve and the doubter's bewilderment.

  11. صُبْحي بلا شمسِ .. وأما أنجمي

    فَبَريقُ بارودٍ وومضُ حرابِ

    My morning has no sun; as for my stars,

    they are gunpowder's flash and the glint of spears.

  12. روحي تمصُّ لظى الهجيرِ وَتَسْتَقي

    شفتاي من دمعٍ ووهجِ سرابِ

    My soul sucks the blaze of midday heat; drink is drawn

    by my lips from tears and a mirage's glow.

  13. أرفو بخيطِ الذكرياتِ حشاشةً

    خَرَمَتْ ملاءَتَها نِصالُ غيابِ

    I darn, with the thread of memories, a remnant of life,

    whose sheet the blades of absence have pierced.

  14. الدارُ بالأحبابِ .. ما أفياؤُها

    إنْ أَقْفَرَتْ داري من الأحباب؟

    A home is its loved ones—what is its shade worth

    if my home is bereft of loved ones?

  15. عابوا على قلبي قناعةَ نَبْضِهِ

    أنَّ الردى في العشقِ ليس بِعابِ

    They faulted my heart for its pulse's conviction

    that death in love is no disgrace.

  16. أنا سادنُ الوَجَعِ الجليلِ خَبَرْتُهُ

    طفلاً .. وها قارَبْتُ يومَ ذهابي

    I am the custodian of sublime anguish; I have known it

    since childhood, and now I approach the day of my departure.

  17. صوفيَّةَ النيرانِ لا تترفَّقي

    بيْ لو أتيتُكِ حاملاً أحطابي

    O Sufi of the flames, do not be gentle

    with me, should I come to you carrying my firewood.

  18. قد جئتُ أستجدي لظاكِ .. لتحرقي

    ما أَبْقَتِ الأيامُ من أعشابي

    I have come begging for your blaze, that you may burn

    what the days have left of my grasses.

  19. أنا طِفْلُكِ الشيخُ ... ابتدأتُ كهولتي

    من قبلِ بدءِ طفولتي وشبابي

    I am your aged child; I began my middle age

    before my childhood and youth began.

  20. لَعِبَتْ بيَ الأيامُ حتى أَدْمَنَتْ

    وَجَعي .. وَخَرَّزَتِ العثارُ شِعابي

    The days toyed with me until they grew addicted to

    my pain, and stumbles stitched my ravines.

  21. يحدو بقافلتي الضَياعُ كأنني

    للحزنِ راحٌ والهمومِ خوابي

    Lostness sings my caravan onward, as though I were

    wine for sorrow, and cares were wine-jars.

  22. إنْ تفتحي بابَ العتابِ فإنني

    أَغْلَقْتُ في وجهِ الملامةِ بابي

    If you open the door of reproach, I

    have closed my door in blame's face.

  23. أهواكِ ؟ لا أدري .. أَضَعْتُ بداهتي

    وأَضاعني في ليلهِ تِغْرابي

    Do I love you? I do not know. I lost my intuition,

    and my exile left me lost in its night.

  24. كلُّ الذي أدريهِ أني بَذْرَةٌ

    أَمّا هواكِ فجدولي وتُرابي

    All I know is that I am a seed;

    as for your love, it is my stream and my soil.

  25. نَزَقي عفيفٌ كالطفولةِ فاهدئي

    أنا طفلكِ المفطومُ .. لا ترتابي

    My impetuousness is chaste as childhood, so be calm.

    I am your weaned child; do not doubt.

  26. الشيبُ ؟ ذا زَبَدُ السنين رمى به

    موجُ الحياةِ على فتىً متصابي

    Gray hair? This is the foam of the years, cast

    by life's wave upon a boyishly playful youth.

  27. "ستٌ وخمسون" انتهين وليس من

    فرحٍ أُخيطُ به فتوقَ عذابي !

    Fifty-six have passed, and there is no

    joy with which to stitch the rents of my torment!

  28. الدغل والزُقّومُ فوق موائدي

    والقيحُ والغِسلينُ في أكوابي

    Thickets and Zaqqum lie on my tables,

    and pus and foul washings are in my cups.

  29. أحبيبةَ الوجعِ الجليل ِ مصيبتي

    أن العراقَ اليومَ غابُ ذئابِ

    O beloved of sublime anguish, my calamity

    is that Iraq today is a forest of wolves.

  30. لو كان يفتح للمشرّدِ بابَهُ

    لأتيتُهُ زحفاً على أهدابي

    Were it to open its door to the displaced,

    I would come to it crawling on my eyelashes.

  31. وطويتُ خيمةَ غربتي لو أنها

    عَرَفَتْ أماناً في العراق روابي

    And I would fold the tent of my exile, if

    my hills knew safety in Iraq.

  32. أوقفتُ ناعوري على بستانِهِ

    وعلى دجاهُ المستريب ِ شهابي

    I dedicated my waterwheel to its orchard,

    and my flame to its suspicious darkness.

  33. عانَقْتُها فتوضَّأتْ بزفيرِها

    روحي..وعطَّرني شميمُ خضابِ

    I embraced her; her breath became ablution for

    my soul, and the scent of henna perfumed me.

  34. كادت تَفرُّ إلى زنابقِ خصرها

    شفتي فرارَ ظميئةٍ لشرابِ

    It almost fled to the lilies of her waist—

    my lip—as a thirsty woman flees toward a drink.

  35. سكرتْ يدي لمّا مَرَرْتُ براحتي

    ما بينَ موجِ جدائلٍ وقِبابِ

    My hand grew drunk when I passed my palm

    between waves of braids and domes,

  36. وحقولِ نعناعٍ تَفَتَّحَ وردها

    وسهول ِ ريحان ٍ وطل ّ حباب ِ

    and fields of mint whose roses had blossomed,

    and plains of basil, and a dew of bubbles.

  37. لُذْنا بثوبِ الليلِ نَسْترُ شوقنا

    من عين مُلتصٍّ ومن مرتابِ

    We took refuge in night's robe, hiding our longing

    from a sneak's eye and from a doubter.

  38. فشربتُ أعذبَ ما تمنّى ظامئٌ :

    شهدٌ غَسَلتُ بهِ مُضاغَ الصّابِ

    Then I drank the sweetest thing a thirsty man could wish for:

    honey with which I washed away the chewed pulp of bitter spurge.

  39. يا أيها المجنونُ – صاحَتْ دَعْكَ من

    تُفاحِ بُستاني وَزِقٍّ رضابي

    “O madman!” she cried. “Keep away from

    my orchard's apples and the wineskin of my sweet saliva.

  40. جَرَّحْتَ فستاني فكيف بزنبقي ؟

    فَأَعِدْ عليَّ عباءتي وحِجابي

    You have torn my dress—what, then, of my lily?

    So put my cloak and my veil back on me.”

  41. حتى إذا نَهَضَ المُكِّبرُّ .....والدجى

    فَرَكَ العيونَ ولاحَ خيطُ شِهابِ

    Until, when the caller of ‘God is great’ rose, and the darkness

    rubbed its eyes, and a thread of flame appeared,

  42. وتثاءَبَ القنديلُ ... وابتدأ السنا

    عريانَ مُلْتَفّاً بثوبِ ضَبابِ

    and the lamp yawned, and the radiance began,

    naked, wrapped in a robe of mist,

  43. صَلَّتْ وصلَّيتُ النوافلَ مثلَها

    وبسطتُ صَحْنَ الروحِ للوهّابِ

    she prayed, and I prayed the voluntary prayers as she did,

    and held out the soul's bowl to the Bestower.

  44. خوفي عليَّ – وقد تَلَبَّسَني الهوى

    مني ...ومنكِ عليكِ يومَ حسابِ

    My fear for myself—now that love has possessed me—

    is of myself; and my fear for you is of you, on a day of reckoning.

  45. إنْ كنتِ جاحدةً هوايَ فهاتِني

    قلبي وتِبْرَ عواطفي وصوابي

    If you deny my love, then give me back

    my heart, the raw gold of my feelings, and my sound judgment.

  46. نَمْ يا طريدَ الجَّنتينِ معانقاً

    خالاًً يشعُّ سناهُ بين هضابِ

    Sleep, O outcast from the two paradises, embracing

    a mole whose radiance shines between hills.

  47. عَرَفَتْكَ مخبولاً تُقايضُ بالندى

    جمراً وكهفَ فجيعةٍ برحابِ

    She knew you mad, bartering—for dew—

    embers, and a cavern of calamity for open spaces.

  48. اصحابَنا في دار دجلةَ عذرَكمْ

    إنْ غَرَّبَتْ قدماي يا أصحابي

    Our friends in the land of the Tigris, forgive me

    if my feet have gone west, my friends.

  49. جَفَّتْ ينابيعُ الوئامِ وأّصْحَرَتْ

    بدءَ الربيعِ حدائق اللبلابِ

    The springs of harmony dried up, and desert overtook

    the ivy gardens at the beginning of spring.

  50. أحبابَنا ...واسْتَوْحَشَتْ أجفانَها

    مُقَلي وشاكسَني طريقُ إيابي

    Our loved ones! Estranged from their eyelids grew

    my eyes, and the road of my return resisted me.

  51. أحبابَنا عَزَّ اللقاءُ وآذَنَتْ

    شمسي قُبيلَ شروقِها بغيابِ

    Our loved ones! Meeting is hard, and a warning comes

    from my sun, just before it rises, of its disappearance.

  52. أحبابَنا في الدجلتين تَعَطَّلَتْ

    أعيادُنا من بعدكم أحبابي

    Our loved ones in the two Tigrises! Suspended are

    our festivals since your departure, my loved ones.

  53. ندعو ونجهل أَنَّ جُلَّ دُعائِنا

    منذ احترفنا الحقدَ غيرُ مُجابِ

    We pray, not knowing that most of our prayers,

    since we made hatred our trade, go unanswered.

  54. نَخَرَ الوباءُ الطائفيُّ عظامنا

    واسْتَفْحلَ الطاعونُ بالأربابِ

    The sectarian epidemic gnawed our bones,

    and the plague grew rampant among the lords.

  55. عشنا بديجورٍ فلما أَشْمَسَتْ

    كشفَ الضحى عن قاتلٍ ومرابي

    We lived in pitch darkness; then, when it turned sunny,

    the forenoon unveiled a murderer and a usurer,

  56. ومُسَبِّحينَ تكاد حين دخولهم

    تشكو الإلهَ حجارةُ المحرابِ

    and praise-chanters, whose arrival nearly makes

    the stones of the prayer niche complain to God,

  57. ومُخَنَّثين يرون دكَّ مآذنٍ

    مجداً ... وأنَّ النصرَ حزُّ رقابِ

    and effeminate men who deem the razing of minarets

    glory, and victory the slitting of throats,

  58. واللاعقين يد َ الدخيل ِ تضرّعا ً

    لنعيم كرسي ٍ بدار ِ خراب ِ

    and those who lick the intruder's hand, groveling

    for the bliss of a chair in a house of ruin.

  59. جيف ٌ وإنْ عافتْ عفونة لحمِها

    أضراسُ ذئبان ٍ وناب ُ كلاب ِ

    Carrion, though its flesh's putrefaction is shunned by

    wolves' molars and the fang of dogs.

  60. وطنَ الفجيعة ِ والشقاء ألا كفى

    صبراً على الدُخلاءِ والأذنابِ

    O homeland of calamity and misery, has there not been enough

    patience with intruders and lackeys?