Lament for His People in Rawḥān
ˁAbīd ibn Al-Abraṣ
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original Arabic
Were those my people's dwellings
that in the stoneland lie?
They are now a dwindled vestige
changed by the hands of Time.
There did I halt my camel
to question what remained,
But turned away with tears
gushing from my eyes
In streams as though my lids
that moment had burst forth
The downpour of a cloud
from winter-laden skies.
Oh mine was once the kindest
of ordinary peoples
To all who had fallen captive
or ill, or on hard times,
Good when they drew lots
for camel-meat when winds
Blew winter-hard, and neighbors
united as a tribe.
And when the moment called for spear-thrusts
they always did
Color their spears from tip
to hilt in the grim dye.
And when the moment called for blades
they always did
Beat back the foe as lions
protective of their pride.
And when they heard the call "Dismount!"
they always rushed
In coats of mail on foot
headlong into the fight.
They are gone. I am still here
but I am not forever.
Change is the fate of things,
the many shades of life.
God knows what I know not
about the end they met.
What I have is remembrance
of things lost in their time.
The Original:
ˁAbīd ibn Al-Abraṣ
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Click to hear me recite the original Arabic
Were those my people's dwellings
that in the stoneland lie?
They are now a dwindled vestige
changed by the hands of Time.
There did I halt my camel
to question what remained,
But turned away with tears
gushing from my eyes
In streams as though my lids
that moment had burst forth
The downpour of a cloud
from winter-laden skies.
Oh mine was once the kindest
of ordinary peoples
To all who had fallen captive
or ill, or on hard times,
Good when they drew lots
for camel-meat when winds
Blew winter-hard, and neighbors
united as a tribe.
And when the moment called for spear-thrusts
they always did
Color their spears from tip
to hilt in the grim dye.
And when the moment called for blades
they always did
Beat back the foe as lions
protective of their pride.
And when they heard the call "Dismount!"
they always rushed
In coats of mail on foot
headlong into the fight.
They are gone. I am still here
but I am not forever.
Change is the fate of things,
the many shades of life.
God knows what I know not
about the end they met.
What I have is remembrance
of things lost in their time.
The Original:
قال عبيد ابن الابرص في رثاء قومه
لِمَنِ الدِيارُ بِبُرقَةِ الرَوحانِ دَرَسَت وَغَيَّرَها صُروفُ زَمانِ
لِمَنِ الدِيارُ بِبُرقَةِ الرَوحانِ دَرَسَت وَغَيَّرَها صُروفُ زَمانِ
فَوَقَفتُ فيها ناقَتي لِسُؤالِها فَصَرَفتُ وَالعَينانِ تَبتَدِرانِ
سَجماً كَأَنَّ شُنانَةً رَجَبِيَّةً سَبَقَت إِلَيَّ بِمائِها العَينانِ
أَيّامَ قَومي خَيرُ قَومٍ سوقَةٍ لِمُعَصِّبٍ وَلِبائِسٍ وَلِعاني
وَلَنِعمَ أَيسارُ الجَزورِ إِذا زَهَت ريحُ الشِتاءِ وَمَألَفُ الجِيرانِ
أَمّا إِذا كانَ الطِعانُ فَإِنَّهُم قَد يَخضِبونَ عَوالِيَ المُرّانِ
أَمّا إِذا كانَ الضِرابُ فَإِنَّهُم أُسدٌ لَدى أَشبالِهِنَّ حَواني
أَمّا إِذا دُعِيَت نَزالِ فَإِنَّهُم يَحبونَ لِلرُكَباتِ في الأَبدانِ
فَخَلَدتُ بَعدَهُمُ وَلَستُ بِخالِدٍ فَالدَهرُ ذو غِيَرٍ وَذو أَلوانِ
اللَهُ يَعلَمُ ما جَهِلتُ بِعَقبِهِم وَتَذَكُّري ما فاتَ أَيَّ أَوانِ
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