By Tamim Al-Barghouthi
بحر الرجز
الْعِشْقُ لا يَأْتِي كَمَا تُرِيدُهُ
Love does not come as you desire it!
وَلَيْسَ إِنْ فَاتَكَ تَسْتَعِيدُهُ
Nor can you ask for It to return if It slips away!
ذُو جانِبَيْنِ وَعْدُهُ وَوَعِيدُهُ
It has two sides: Its promises and Its threats…
أَخَفَّهُ مُؤْنَةً وَوَطِيدُهُ
Its softest is a heavy burden, and Its firm foundation…
يَنْبُعُ مِنْ أَهْوَنِهِ شَدِيدُهُ
From Its easiest springs forth Its most difficult…
يَصِيدُنِي الظَّبْيُ الَّذِي أَصِيدُهُ
The Gazelle, which I hun,t is the one who hunts me!
فَهْوَ شَرِيدِي وَأَنَا شَرِيدُهُ
So It flees from me, and I flee from It…
يَقْتُلُنِي قَتْلًا فَأَسْتَزِيدُهُ
And It smites me wel,l and I ask for more!
ظَبْيٌ غَرِيبُ الْحُسْنِ بَلْ فَرِيدُهُ
A Gazelle of strange beauty, indeed unique…
مُورِقَةٌ تَحْتَ خُطَاهُ بِيْدُهُ
Its desert land becomes green under Its steps…
ذُو شَرَفٍ إِطْلَاقُهُ تَقْيِيدُهُ
Of nobility, Its limitlessness is Its limitation…
أَنَّى نَأَى حَنِينُهُ يُعِيدُهُ
Wherever It becomes distant, Its longing brings It back…
مِنْ قُبَلٍ خُدُودُهُ وَجِيدُهُ
Its cheeks and neck are made from kisses…
بَلْ كُلُّ نَثْرِ الصَّبِّ أَوْ قَصِيدُهُ
Indeed, all of the lover’s poetry and prose, too!
فِي قُبْلَةٍ وَاحِدَةٍ تَجْسِيدُهُ
In one kiss It is embodied…
تَقْبِيلُهُ شِعْرِي وَلِي تَرْدِيدُهُ
Its kissing is my poetry, and it is mine to echo!
وَلِي إِذَا سَطْرٌ وَهَى تَجْدِيدُهُ
And if a line proves weak, then it is upon me to renew it…
بِقُبْلَةٍ لَانَ لَهَا عَنِيدُهُ
With a kiss, which Its stubbornness would soften up to…
إِنَّ الْهَوَى وَالِدُهُ وَوَلِيدُهُ
Verily, love is Its parent and child…
وَحَقْلُهُ حَاصِدُهُ وَحَصِيدُهُ
And Its field is Its harvester and harvest…
مِنْ نَبْتِهِ الْمُنْشِدُ أَوْ نَشِيدُهُ
From its growth is the singer, or perhaps his song?
وَكُلُّ مَا يَهْوَاهُ أَوْ يُجِيدُهُ
And all that he loves and excels in…
وَالْعِشْقُ نَصْلٌ لَا يُرَى حَدِيدُهُ
And Love is a sword whose blade cannot be seen…
فِينَا وَفِي أَعْدَائِنَا تَجْرِيدُهُ
It unsheathes in us and our enemies…
يَعْدِلْ مِنْ دَهْرِكَ مَنْ يُمِيدُهُ
All who attempt to bend It are straightened from Your era…
عَلَيْهِ كُلَّمَا هَفَا تَسْدِيدُهُ
Upon It is to rectify whenever It falters…
يَخَافُ مِنْ حُسَيْنِهِ يَزِيدُهُ
Its Yazid fears Its Hussein…1
- This entire poem is a reflection on Love and Its presence in all things as well as Its paradoxes. It is found in us, just as It is found in our enemies, hence why “Love is a sword” which “unsheathes in us and our enemies”, and this culminates in the final line of the tragedy of Imam Hussein رضي الله عنه massacre by the commands of Yazid, where the two extremes of righteousness and decadence are as though joined under the paradoxes of Love, as if Love’s Yazid fears Love’s Hussein. So it is this united Reality which is paradoxically self-contradictory. This is also alluded to when the poet says that Love is like a gazelle, and yet he hunts It just like It hunts him, and he flees from It just as It flees from him! ↩︎
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