The Poem of the Beautiful Pool
In his depiction of the pool at the Al-Ja’fari Palace, Al-Buhturi expresses:
Let us lean towards the home, welcoming Leila,
Indeed, we ask her about some of her people.
Oh, quaint abode, caressed by gentle breezes,
It spends the night revealing its beauty, only to conceal it later.
Forever in garments, ample from the rainfall,
Illuminated at times by vibrant lightning’s grace.
With the soft rain, sweet fragrances arise,
Over your havens or in the tender dawns.
For a stingy soul does not adorn her visitors,
On the day of the hillock, without heeding her callers.
She moved with grace, near and yet far,
For abandonment distances her, while the home draws her close.
Were it not for the darkness of the veil that does not free me,
My spirit would have long since returned to her allure.
I might approach the lovely one, strong in youth,
So she enchants me, while I enchant her.
In a night concluded before dawn could seize it,
I became enchanted with the wine she offers; I serve it back.
O, one who witnessed the beautiful pool and its allure,
And the young ladies, when their charms glimmer.
It is enough that her virtue makes her number one,
While the sea claims the second status.
What perplexes the Tigris to compete with her,
In beauty at times, and at others, to boast alongside her?
Did she not see that the protector of Islam safeguards her,
From being criticized, while the builder of glory constructs her?
As though the invisible jinn of Solomon had conferred,
Creating her delicately, and infusing meaning in her beauty.
Were the Queen of Sheba to pass by this splendor,
She would proclaim that it is an impressive edifice, a true likeness.
Into this pool flows the water, rapid and eager,
Like steeds emerging from the reins of their steady course.
As if white silver flows forth,
From chains, racing through its channels.
When the morning breeze caresses it, it reveals delicate knots,
Like polished armor adorning its edges.
Thus do the rays of the sun sometimes playfully greet it,
While the gentle rains might occasionally bring it to tears.
When the stars appear around it late at night,
You would think the sky had been set above her.
Neither shall the confined fish reach her far end,
For the distance between her farthest and nearest shores is vast.
They dwell within, with wings fluttering,
Like birds dispersing through the clear sky.
It has a spacious basin in its lower areas,
When they descend, and a grand hall high above.
Its images resemble dolphins, providing solace,
Under the gaze of its comparable essence.
Her gardens sing praises of her distant sight,
Clear of the clouds, discerning their triumphs.
It is as if when it overflowed,
It were a divine hand guiding her channels.
Adorned with beauty, shining brightly,
Fulfilling her appeal to every eye.
And the two towers, similar to the twins of Sirius,
One found it surpassing the other in elegance.
When the endeavors of the Prince of the Believers were perceived,
Those who describe her cannot capture her essence.
Indeed, when the Caliph’s pulpit shook,
With Ja’far, she achieved her utmost desires.
Humility was displayed as she attained glory,
And she flourished in her splendor.
When the world unveiled its adornments,
It saw her virtues overshadow its deceptions.
O son of the noble lineage, from a foundational land,
At the peak of glory, higher than its heights.
God has not deprived you in wilderness or civilization,
For you are a shepherd blessed with compassion.
And a nation, once burdened with oppression, lamented,
Now finds the beauty of justice satisfying.
You have spread blessings that have increased the count,
And exalted your name with commendations of generosity.
You continue to be a sea of bounty for the needy; how can it be,
When you received us, your land flourishes with every blessing?
This is indeed God’s decree, for He has accepted you as His.
O welcome one, for in truth, you are His generous giver.
Description of Nature
Al-Buhturi elucidates nature in his poem about Spring:
Is the breeze merely an embracing illusion,
Echoing like the reflective glance that turns away?
I see that the briefest days in youth are the best,
While those lengthy ones that bear blame are the worst.
I wrestled in the wildness of youthful folly, yet sought
No substitute for it, even if distraction offered me some.
A day of reunion separated from farewell,
My eyes cry blood when I call them back.
We caught up with the observing troop at morning, and indeed,
They headed towards their homeland, as they directed themselves.
So I bid them good morning, though my intent was
To lure the charming gazelle into my embrace.
And nothing remained hidden from the warmth of a pillow,
Except the yearning heart, a captive to passion.
I would sing sweet tunes for the maidens who guide me,
Until the bloom of youth was consigned to memory.
And previously, I resisted the chaste charms and denied
The portents of this gray hair when their allure returned.
To the gathering clouds, I call, as they pour down,
From the banquet of the dew that fell fervently.
Relax, and yet your reach cannot encompass it,
For to attain perfection is an unattainable goal.
Herein lies death, woe to those who encounter its bounds,
For to meet death whilst standing in a pool is wrong.
A youth who adorned the night with virtues,
Its horizons were illuminated previously shrouded in darkness.
Experiencing the hardships of wars where intentions were firm,
And truth shall not falter until grounded in meaning.
The hallowed Nizar and Arab beckon forth,
For him to endure life among them and remain steadfast.
Humble from their glory yet generous in spirit,
And every great soul disdains hyperbole.
For every clan has a section of generosity,
And a subgroup claims distinction when they affiliate.
They are purified by noble provision until they take an oath,
That his bounties were akin to the ocean’s embrace.
O Abu al-Qasim, you equipped this land with treasures,
Filling the remnants of the earth with both sorrow and joy.
If a group vies for your glory, they can
Will find themselves perpetually behind the esteemed.
Peace be upon you, and though peace may be a greeting,
Your face alone suffices as a reply from the humble.
Do you not see the Euphrates extending,
As if mountains came rolling in from the sea?
There was naught among his customs, save for
To behold a trait of his neighbor and learn from it.
No flowered garden could compare to this youth,
Who smiled at dawn and thus smiled again.
Spring arrives gracefully, flaunting laughter,
So beautiful that it nearly speaks.
For the vernal equinox stirs in the obscured twilight,
Awakening the buds that had been dormant yesterday.
It opens them up just as dew embraces the dawn,
As if the gorgeous clothing had spread luxuriously.
It revealed cheerfulness to eager eyes,
When it once was but a deficiency in sight.
The soft breeze of the winds caresses so delicately,
That it seems to bring forth the breath of beloveds.
Neither can the beloved wine be held back from you,
Nor can the strings be restrained from their melody.
Moreover, you remain a sun for the intoxicated, as they rejoice,
And the moon strives to inspire them as well.
You honored them before the cups were raised to them,
And they could not find a moment to express their gratitude.
Description of the Iwan of Khosrow
Al-Buhturi describes the Iwan of Khosrow:
I have held myself back from what sullies my soul,
And I have risen above the trivialities of this world.
I held firm when fate stirred beneath me,
Seeking aid from him in my distress and sadness.
A mere hint of life’s passions swayed me,
As time diminished what was plentiful, leaving me with little.
It seems that time has become treasured,
With desires that belong to only the base of character.
In seeking Iraq, I face a path of deceit,
After parting ways in commerce with Sham.
Do not judge me too hastily, just as you wouldn’t scorn
After this calamity has impacted my essence.
I’ve long been accustomed to grumbling,
With verses reflecting life’s undercurrents.
And my father’s kin have sought to find ease,
Now swarming towards joy from grief’s remnants.
When I falter, I am worthy of noticing others,
Rather than remaining void, as their soil lays bare.
(narrative continues…)
Your home was shaped from earth’s minerals,
In silence, resting near the horizons.