The Essence of Horse, Night, and Wilderness
The essence of horse, night, and wilderness knows me,
and the sword, spear, paper, and pen.
I am the one whose literature has been perceived by the blind,
and whose words have resonated with those in silence.
I sleep deeply while my thoughts occupy laden dreams,
as the people stay awake disputing my works.
How distant disgrace and deficiency are from my honor,
I am like the Pleiades, untouched by age and decay.
How often do you seek faults in me, yet find none?
And God despises what you do when you have the nobility.
How distant disgrace and deficiency are from my honor,
I am like the Pleiades, untouched by age and decay.
And from the anguish of a loved one, my heart aches,
I manage it with a steed whose back is sacred.
Believers in my Rising, What about Your Blade?
Remove that simile against me as if it were a weapon,
for there is no one above or like me.
How Many Have Fallen Like Martyrs?
Not by my kin did I gain nobility, but they gained it through me,
and it is by my essence that I boast, not by my ancestry.
And with them is the pride of all who uttered the word,
and refuge for the wrongdoer, and support for the persecuted.
If I am a wonder, my admiration is something strange,
there is none above his own self.
I am the keeper of dew, and the lord of poems,
and the banner of foes and bitterness of the envious.
I am among a nation whom God has supported,
as a stranger akin to the righteous in Thamud.
My Sorrows in the Shadows Are Truly Harrowing
As if I laid the earth through my experience with it,
as if Alexander built the dam with my resolve.
For Everyone, Time Brings What They Are Accustomed To
And time is but one of the narrators of my adornments,
if I speak poetry, then time becomes a reciter.
Those who do not tread forth become resolute by it,
and those who do not sing find themselves chirping.
Allow me to sing poetry, for indeed,
through my poetry, commendations reach to you ever-repeating.
And cast aside any voice that is not mine, for I,
am the one calling out, while the rest are mere echoes.
I have left the path behind for those who lack wealth,
and adorned my steeds with your bounty, golden and lavish.
Tears Shed, Were Dispersed Among the Ruins
And if I endure, I foster wars as a mother,
with nightly struggles as my kin and battles as my father.
I Brave Horses of the Era’s Knights
I have trained against calamities until I have left them,
they say, did he die, or did he falter under fear?
And I have advanced as if I were the one who came forth
for my soul, and thus I have connections to it.
Amidst Your Expansion in the Night, I Am the Observant
I am the rock of the valley when it is thronged,
and when I speak, I am the constellation.
And if I am concealed from the foolish, then let it be said,
that my perspective is indeed blind.
The virtues of nights deceive my she-camel,
does my chest ache or does the wilderness await me?
Thus, I take pride among the chief and amidst the shades,
her flow in any winding path takes precedence.
My Existence Is Not Defined by Departure
I see the boastful poets boast by disparaging me,
and who praises the grievous illness?
And who possesses a bitter and frail mouth,
scrounging for sweet water amidst a bitter stream?
They asked, will the Pleiades reach you?
I replied, yes, if I choose to elevate it.
Is there an answer to my question, has it a counterpart?
And you have nothing in your inquiry but a void.
To You, Abodes in Hearts, Are Abodes Indeed
And if my blame comes to you from a shortcoming,
it serves as a testimony that I am whole.
A Heart That Wine Cannot Soothe
And I am not one to find joy among them,
but I am the essence of gold amidst the dust.
Ode of Al-Mutanabbi to Badr bin Ammar Al-Asadi
In the cheek, when the company resolved to depart,
the rain adds allure like a veil upon the cheeks.
Oh, glance that dismissed sleep and departed,
on the threshold of my heart, how I wish for blooms!
To have my heart mirrored in your eyes,
is what I long for with all of my soul.
I find indifference towards anything besides you a greeting,
and patience is only beautiful in your approach.
I see your much reliance tender and amiable,
yet little reliance turns burdensome.
Your cheeks complain of the mount’s burden,
like one who finds presence where your affection is alien.
And it gives me the allure of the reins for her heart,
as she draws near like a seeker of affection.
The gaze of the beautiful evokes my sorrow on departing,
day of separation filled with ardent thrill.
To gaze upon what is spoken of from the charming,
is to find Badr, the son of Ammar the son of Ismail.
The liberator of overwhelming sorrows by similar means,
and the one who leaves the mighty degraded.
He is tested when a debtor lingers over his debt,
thus, the sword serves him as if he were a protector.
When speech the moment the words remove their veil,
they give to hearts thoughts and reasonings.
He has weighed the times, for having been generous, he became generous in return,
universally may others become miserly through him.
As if lightning striking through clouds,
releases in his grasp most fervently.
And the place of his standing flows with talents,
if only they were streams, not mere trickles.
His strikes are soft, and so they arise as if,
revealing a passion for graceful necks.
Are you also inviting the brave lion to restrain his whip?
For whom must you gather your glorious blade?
A misfortune struck Transjordan,
with remnants of companions emerging aware.
A flower when it tastes the lake or barren seas,
leads to the roaring of the Euphrates and the Nile.
He is sullied with the blood of knights wearing
in the field, in his mane begins to sprout.
His eyes met only the expectant,
under the shadows, the fire in the gathering was noteworthy.
In the presence of monks, yet he knows not,
the prohibition nor its permissibility.
He trods upon the ground gently yet powerfully,
as if he were a healer feeling ailments.
And he returns his forgiveness to your head,
until it rests as a crown above you.
And you might think he is denying himself,
from rage, occupied in his strong will.
That his fear constrains his steps as if
he rode a steed filled with ornament.
He dropped his prey and cried out bear back,
and you approached him, how unfurling he was.
They bore resemblance in their unyielding racing,
yet differed in the supplies offered.
A lion observes both its limbs equally,
a back veiled and a powerful foreleg.
In the saddle of the parched steed, it’s just a guise,
that refuses to let dawn be figural.
When calamity strikes the crown of requests,
let it not attach to her reins’ expiration.
The tails are moist when you ponder upon,
and it is presumed her tether is undone.
He still gathers himself in his dogmatic clutches,
until he thought it extensive and tall.
And his heart beats firmly as if it sought the depths,
to reach what lay in the abyss’s domain.
As if a glance tricked him into closeness,
he does not perceive the majesty of hardships.
The noble soul alludes as he veers away,
in the glare of his eyes reflecting countless encounters.
Rather than fearing death, he contemplates the value of strife,
whoever fears little knows the pertinence of greatness.
He surpassed your presence by a leap as if it followed him,
if he did not confront it closely, you shall err very far.
He has asserted his strength even when challenged,
thus, he sought refuge in submission and determination.
His demise grasped both his hands and neck,
as though he were caught by a snare.
He was heard, the son of his aunt, about it and his situation,
so he fled from you searching for escape.
More challenging than what he fled, was escaping,
and like him, is the slayer that does not die.
The loss for he who yearns for audacity as a companion,
while the burden lies for he who chooses retreat as an ally.
If your understanding of God were sufficient,
among people, would remain a profound messenger.
If your expression about them understood what God
revealed in the Quran and the Gospels was narrated.
Had what you granted them found in their possession prior?
They would not have known hopes were attainable.
Indeed, you have been known while your essence is obscure,
and you have been misjudged while unacknowledged.
The doves proclaimed your prominence through song,
and through the exertions of steeds in bitterness.
Not everyone who reaches for greatness has accomplished
the heights without any of the men being outstanding.