The Horses, the Night, and the Wilderness Know Me
Oh, how my heart longs for the one whose heart is indifferent,
And for whom my body and condition bring suffering.
Why should I hide love that has consumed my being,
While others claim to love Sayed Al-Dawla?
If our love were to unite us through its beauty,
I wish we could equally share this affection.
I visited him, with swords of India sheathed,
And gazed upon him while swords were stained with blood.
He was the most beautiful of God’s creation,
And the best among the best in character.
He awaited an enemy, hoping to achieve victory,
Yet within him lay both regret and blessings.
Fear stood in for you strongly, and you fashioned,
For yourself a presence that could not be ignored.
You imposed a duty upon yourself that was not necessary,
To pursue them beyond earth and knowledge.
Whenever you sought an army, it retreated in fear,
Their ambitions faltered in the face of consequence.
Upon you, they were defeated in every encounter,
And it will not bring you shame if they falter.
Do you not see victories sweeter than mere triumph?
They are victories where the swords of India and the Arabs clasp.
O fairest of people, except in my dealings with you,
In you is the contention even as you are both the accuser and the judge.
From your sincere gaze, I spare it from being mistaken,
To measure weight by stretched flesh or swelling.
What benefit is there to the worldly brother’s vision,
If light and dark are even to him?
The gathering will soon know from whom our assembly comprises,
That I am the best among those whom feet pursue.
I am the one the blind man has looked to for literary guidance,
And my words resounded in the ears of the deaf.
I rest with my eyes shut from wandering thoughts,
While others lie awake, stirred by their pursuits.
A fool adds to his ignorance with my laughter,
Until a skilled hand reaches him, and a mouth awakens.
When I see the lion’s fangs bared,
Do not presume that the lion is smiling.
And from the essence of my being, from my loved one’s burden,
I grasped it with a steed whose back is a sanctuary.
His legs rush forth as a man, and his hands grip,
His actions echo the desires of the palm and foot.
With sharpness, I moved between two armies,
Until I struck and the waves of death surged.
The horses, the night, and the wilderness know me,
As does the sword, the spear, the parchment, and the pen.
I traversed the wilderness, alone with the beasts,
To the astonishment of deer and the mountain’s depths.
O you whose departure weighs heavily upon us,
Our longing renders everything after you void.
We shared a connection’; we are worthy of kindness,
If your command was of our command, perhaps.
If what our rival says brings you delight,
Then what pain can truly heal your wound?
If only you recognized that knowing each other is our mutual responsibility,
For knowledge among the wise unites us with bonds.
How often you seek faults in us but fail
And God dislikes what you do while generosity reigns.
How far is fault and deficiency from my honor,
I am the Pleiades and those in old age and decrepitude.
Oh, how I wish the clouds I have would yield their storms,
And rather shift them to those who have the downpour.
I see separation calling me at each stage,
Do not underestimate the sorrowful parts of the road.
Even if they part us from the ones we love,
It will bring forth regret for those they leave behind.
When one travels from a people who have prepared,
To never leave them, it leads to those departing.
The worst place is one without friends,
And the worst thing one earns is that which demeans.
And the worst capture is parched with birds of prey,
The ash-colored eagles are all alike in this respect.
With what utterance do you express poetry, O fair one?
Your words flow freely among both Arabs and non-Arabs.
This is your reproach, though not without merit,
For pearls are guaranteed, yet they are but words.
We have Sacrificed for You, Even if It Increases Our Troubles
We have sacrificed for you, even if it adds to our hardships,
For you are the East to the sun and the West to the moon.
How can we recognize the outline of one who leaves us,
With no heart left to recognize the features?
We dismounted from our mounts, walking with dignity,
For those who left us, we long to see their return.
We reproach the flawless clouds for their actions,
And we turn away whenever they rise to the sky.
And for those who have accompanied this world for long,
It turns against them so they see falsehood as truth.
What pleasure is there in warm winds and mornings,
If that breeze is no longer the one that once refreshed?
I remember connections as if they have never existed,
And moments as if I had leapt through them.
Oh, beautiful eyes that slay with love,
When it wafts to the elder, its fragrance intertwines and burns.
With the beauty of pearls that were decorated with,
I have never seen a fuller moon than when it glows.
So, O longing, how you’ve faded, and alas, my separation,
And O tears that flow freely, and O heart that yearns.
Destiny has played tricks upon me, and I weep for you,
As I’m provided in my travels with what the gazelle brings.
Whoever has the wild beasts as his ancestors,
His night will be bright as morning, and his sustenance will be just.
And I do not care anymore upon realizing the heights,
Whether what I received was a heritage or a gain.
For perhaps a youth teaches glory to himself,
Like the training of a sword in artistry and art.
When the state depends on him during crises,
It suffices them; he became the sword, the hand, and the heart.
The swords of India instill fear even when they are sheathed,
How much more when they bear witness to valor?
And the lion’s fangs strike fear just by being there,
How much more when lions are in a company together?
And the waves of the sea invoke fear in their proximity,
How would it be for those who storm the land’s shores?
He is knowledgeable of the secrets of religions and tongues,
His insights reveal the truth to people and texts.
May you be blessed by rains that cause our bodies,
To grow forth silk, brocade, and fiber.
For those who give generously and those who restrain their desires,
And for those who pierce with a sword, and those who scatter tahini.
Congratulations to the people of the border, your insight in them,
And that you have become the party of God in their midst.
And indeed, you have become the oppressor of time, and its gloom,
So if there is doubt, trouble will arise in its field.
One day you will lead the horses to drive off the Romans from them,
And another day you will drive away poverty and famine.
Your battalions move unstoppably, and your spoils are falling,
And its companions are killed, and wealth is stolen.
Arena has moved closer to you as one who approaches the distant,
And it receded as you arrived, distancing the nearby.
Thus do the enemies abandon the one whose tactics quelled them,
And they flee when they know victory is in their lot.
And was he saved from the archers by his stance,
Facing the lofty hearts and the steadfast ones?
He departed after the spears converged for an hour,
As lace receives the fabric of linens.
But he turned and withdrew from the biting strikes,
When his soul remembers it feels the pain of his side.
And he released the maidens, and the wine goblets, and the stalls,
And the disheveled Christians, and the thorns and steeds.
Do I see that we all seek life for ourselves,
Holding on to it, fixated on it deeply?
For the coward’s love keeps him alive,
And the brave’s love lands him in the midst of war.
And fortunes differ, but the act remains the same,
Until you see the benefit of this for its debtors.
So it has become as if the fence’s top split open,
To the ground, carving through stars and soil.
Winds strike and prevent the risky from approaching,
And birds flee fearful to snatch up seeds.
And the stallions gladly unleash, racing against its slopes,
And the pine tree has thrashed upon its edges.
How astonishing that people would be amazed he built Arena;
Curse their opinions; their judgments go astray.
And what difference lies between mankind and him,
If he fears danger and finds the formidable hard?
For a matter prepared by the caliph for enemies,
And is assigned, leaving the world to face the sword’s strain.
And the spears did not part from him in mercy,
And they did not abandon Syria without love.
But he was pushed away from it without generosity,
Indeed, noble in praise, he has not been cursed nor insulted.
And an army doubles every mountain as if it were,
A breeze of wind confronting a green branch.
As if the stars of the night feared its caverns,
So they extended on it from the dust of his remains.
Whoever seeks to appease meagerness and disbelief,
This is the one who satisfies the highest and the exalted.
Restless Over Restlessness, and One Like Me Is Restless
Restlessness upon restlessness, and one like me is restless,
With a yearning that intensifies, and tears that cascade.
I strive to quell the fervor to see it as I wish,
An eye sleepless and a heart that flutters.
Whenever lightning flashes, or a bird sings,
I bend myself, and my heart is stirred.
I have experienced the fire of love, and it won’t subside,
Like the heat of the desert that leaves scorch marks.
I chastised those who love until I tasted it,
Yet I was amazed how can one die who does not love?
And I excused them for I knew my guilt when I
Scorned them, and I found myself undergoing the same.
Oh, the child of our father, we are the dwellers,
Forever, the raven of separation croaks in our abodes.
We weep for the world, and there’s no group,
That the world’s brought together, never to part.
Where are the kings and tyrants who hoarded treasures?
They have neither remained nor bequeathed them.
From everyone whose might crowded the realm,
Until they were buried beneath the weight of earth.
Quiet when called, they seem unaware,
That speech has always been permissible to them.
For death is coming, and souls are precious,
While the foolish pride themselves on their possessions.
And man hopes, while life is alluring,
And as the old weigh heavy, youth is rejected.
I have wept for the young and my losses,
In so many layers, and the glow of my face not shining.
Out of caution over him before his departure,
Until I nearly found the tears as expressing light.
As for the sons of Aus, the lofty ones,
The most honored among whom the fine horses have been bequeathed to you.
I grew solemn around their whereabouts when they appeared,
From them shone sunrises, though no dawn in them.
And I was astonished from a land whose clouded hands,
From above her, did not bring forth leaves.
And from the perfume of elegant praises,
Flows towards them, a scent to be breathed in every stance.
Exquisite in being fragrant, yet amidst anything else,
Strange with them, it does not possess grace.
Have you sought a man like Muhammad in our age?
Let not our desires lead us to chase the uncatchable.
For God the Merciful did not create like Muhammad,
Any one, and I suspect He will not create again.
Oh, You who seeks to grant profusely and has,
Indeed, I strive to give through You.
Grant me, with your bounty, a cloud filled to the brim,
And look upon me with mercy, do not let me drown.
The son of Fatilah lied with ignorance,
The noble have passed away while you live on, granted.