تخميس «قل للمليحة في الخمار الأسود»

ترجمة إنجليزية
شارك:

تخميسٌ على أبيات مِسكين الدّارمي المشهورة «قُلْ لِلْمَلِيحَةِ فِي الْخِمَارِ الْأَسْوَدِ»

طَافَ الخَيَالُ بِخَاطِرِ المُتَهَجِّدِفَأَطَارَ نَوْمًا كَانَ طَوْعَ المَرْقَدِ
سَلَبَتْ نُهَاهُ مَنْ رَمَتْهُ بِمَرْصَدِقُلْ لِلْمَلِيحَةِ فِي الخِمَارِ الأَسْوَدِ
مَاذَا فَعَلْتِ بِنَاسِكٍ مُتَعَبِّدِ؟
هَجَرَ الغَرَامَ وَلَمْ يُلَبِّ شَبَابَهُوَأَنَاخَ فِي حَرَمِ الإِلَهِ رِكَابَهُ
وَمَضَى يُرَتِّلُ بِالخُشُوعِ كِتَابَهُقَدْ كَانَ شَمَّرَ لِلصَّلَاةِ ثِيَابَهُ
حَتَّى وَقَفْتِ لَهُ بِبَابِ المَسْجِدِ
سَلَبَتْ لَوَاحِظُكِ الحِسَانُ سَلَامَهُوَبَعَثْنَ فِي ذَاكَ الفُؤَادِ غَرَامَهُ
بِاللَّهِ يَا مَنْ أَوْرَثَتْهُ حِمَامَهُ!رُدِّي عَلَيْهِ صَلَاتَهُ وَصِيَامَهُ
لَا تَقْتُلِيهِ بِحَقِّ دِينِ مُحَمَّدِ
أَمْسَى كَئِيبًا بَعْدَمَا طَالَ النَّوَىوَبَرَى رَجَاءُ الوَصْلِ قَلْبًا قَدْ هَوَى
لَا النُّسْكُ يُنْقِذُهُ وَلَا شَيْخٌ رَوَىأَوْدَى بِهِ سِحْرُ الخِمَارِ وَمَا حَوَى
فَبَكَى بِمَدْمَعِ عَاشِقٍ مُتَوَجِّدِ
قُلْ لِلَّتِي تَرَكَتْهُ رَهْنَ عَذَابِهِفَقَدَ الخُشُوعَ وَهَامَ فِي مِحْرَابِهِ
مَا عَادَ يَتْلُو آيَةً بِكِتَابِهِوَأَطَاحَ ذَاكَ الحُسْنُ كُلَّ صَوَابِهِ
فَتَرَفَّقِي بِالمُبْتَلَى المُتَسَهِّدِ
يَا لَوْعَةَ الصَّبِّ المُتَيَّمِ فِي المَسَاءْإِذْ لاَحَ طَيْفُكِ لِلْمُعَنَّى فِي الدُّعَاءْ
فَبَكَى وَفَاضَ الدَّمْعُ مِنْهُ كَمَا الدِّمَاءْمَا عَادَ يَرْجُو فِي الحَيَاةِ سِوَى اللِّقَاءْ
وَرَجَاؤُهُ فِي وَصْلِكِ المُتَجَدِّدِ
ضَاعَتْ بِمِحْرَابِ الهَوَى صَلَوَاتُهُوَتَبَدَّدَتْ بَعْدَ التُّقَى خَلَوَاتُهُ
وَتَضَاعَفَتْ مِنْ شَوْقِهِ زَفَرَاتُهُبِتَبَسُّمٍ قَدْ تُسْتَرَدُّ حَيَاتُهُ
أَوْ نَظْرَةٍ تَشْفِي جَوَى المُتَنَهِّدِ
قَدْ كَانَ آيَةَ عَصْرِهِ بِكَمَالِهِمُتَجَرِّدًا لِلَّهِ فِي أَفْعَالِهِ
حَتَّى أَطَاحَتْ نَظْرَةٌ بِجَلَالِهِفَهَوَى كَسِيرَ القَلْبِ فِي أَغْلَالِهِ
يَبْكِي، وَيَشْكُو حَسْرَةَ المُتَوَجِّدِ
يَا مَنْ أَسَرْتِ فُؤَادَهُ بِلِثَامِوَتَرَكْتِ صَبًّا فِي أَشَدِّ سِقَامِ
وَسَلَبْتِ مِنْ عَيْنَيْهِ طِيبَ مَنَامِفَغَدَا أَسِيرَ صَبَابَةٍ وَغَرَامِ
يَبْكِي عَلَى عَهْدِ التُّقَى المُتَبَدِّدِ
يَا فِتْنَةً طَافَتْ بِغَيْرِ حِسَابِوَسَبَتْ حَلِيمَ القَوْمِ فِي المِحْرَابِ
وَرَمَتْهُ فِي بَحْرٍ مِنَ الأَوْصَابِفَغَدَا يُنَاجِي الطَّيْفَ خَلْفَ البَابِ
يَرْجُو النَّجَاةَ مِنَ العَذَابِ السَّرْمَدِ
يَبْكِي وَيَشْكُو مِنْ لَظَى حِرْمَانِهِيَصْلَى عَذَابَ الوَجْدِ فِي نِيرَانِهِ
يَطْوِي لَيَالِي السُّهْدِ فِي أَشْجَانِهِهَامَ التَّقِيُّ.. فَضَاعَ فِي هَيَمَانِهِ
مُنِّي عَلَيْهِ بِنَظْرَةٍ أَوْ مَوْعِدِ
قَدْ كَانَ يَسْأَلُ رَبَّهُ بِخُضُوعِهِوَسَهَا عَنِ التَّسْبِيحِ عِنْدَ رُكُوعِهِ
وَتَخَالَطَتْ آيَاتُهُ بِوَلُوعِهِفَبَكَى وَبَلَّلَ ثَوْبَهُ بِدُمُوعِهِ
نَسِيَ الصَّلَاةَ أَمَامَ ذَاكَ المَشْهَدِ!

A Takhmīs on “Tell the Fair One in the Black Veil”1

A takhmīs on the famous lines of Miskīn al-Dārimī2, “Tell the fair one in the black veil”.

  1. A phantom3 circled through the vigil-keeper's4 mind,
    and put to flight the sleep that came at his bed's command.
  2. His reason's stolen by the one who shot him from her blind.
    Tell the fair one in the black veil5:
  3. what have you done to an ascetic, to worship devoted?
  4. He had forsaken passion, turned the call of youth away,
    and made his camels kneel6 in God's own sanctuary, to stay;
  5. he chanted on, in humble awe, His Book from day to day.
    He had tucked his robes up7 to pray,
  6. until, before him at the mosque door, you stood.
  7. Your lovely glances robbed him of his peace,
    and in that heart they set his passion loose.
  8. By God, you who have made him heir to his own death!
    Give him back his prayer and his fasting;
  9. do not kill him, by the faith of Muhammad!
  10. He has grown dejected, now the parting has lasted long,
    and hope of union wears away a heart that fell8 headlong.
  11. No rite of his can save him, and no shaykh who hands down lore9;
    the spell of the veil, and all it held, has been his ruin,
  12. and he wept the tears a lover weeps, by longing consumed.
  13. Tell her who left him hostage to his pain:
    he has lost his awe in prayer, and roams distraught within his prayer-niche10;
  14. he no longer recites a single verse of the Book,
    and that beauty has swept away all that kept him sane.
  15. So go gently with the stricken man whose sleep has fled.
  16. Ah, the anguish of the love-enslaved at close of day,
    when your phantom3 gleamed before the sufferer as he prayed!
  17. He wept, and his tears came streaming down like blood;
    he hopes for nothing else in life but meeting you,
  18. and all his hope is in your union, ever renewed.
  19. His prayers are lost within the prayer-niche of love,
    and, piety behind him, his hours of retreat11 lie scattered;
  20. his sighs of longing multiply.
    A single smile might yet restore his life,
  21. or a glance, and the burning of his sighs be healed.
  22. In his perfection he had been the marvel12 of his days,
    to God alone devoted in all his deeds and ways,
  23. until a glance cast down his majesty,
    and he fell, broken-hearted, in his chains,
  24. weeping, lamenting the grief of one by longing consumed.
  25. You who have made his heart a captive with a veil13,
    and left a lover lying in the gravest sickness,
  26. and robbed his eyes of all the sweetness of their sleep,
    till he became the captive whom longing and passion keep,
  27. weeping for his days of piety, now scattered.
  28. O temptation, roaming abroad without reckoning14,
    that took the forbearing sage of his people captive in the prayer-niche,
  29. and cast him into a sea of pains,
    till he whispers to the phantom3 behind the door,
  30. hoping to be saved from the torment without end15.
  31. He weeps, complaining of the blaze of his deprivation;
    he burns15 in the torment of passion, in its fires;
  32. he folds his sleepless nights away within his griefs.
    The pious man ran wild with love… and was lost in that wildness16.
  33. Grant him the favour of a glance, or of a meeting agreed.
  34. He used to entreat his Lord in lowly submission;
    now, as he bowed, he forgot to glorify Him17;
  35. the verses he recited mingled with his passion;
    he wept, and drenched his garment with his tears.
  36. Before that sight, the prayer itself went from his mind!

Notes

  1. A takhmīs ('making fivefold') is a classical form in which a poet takes an earlier poem and places three new hemistichs, in the rhyme of his own choosing, before each of its verses, so that every stanza has five lines and ends with the borrowed verse. Here the first three stanzas embrace the three verses of the original; the stanzas that follow continue the story in the same form, each closing, like the original, on the same rhyme in -di. ↩
  2. Miskīn al-Dārimī (Rabīʿa ibn ʿĀmir, d. c. 89/708) was a poet of the Umayyad period. According to a well-known anecdote, a merchant from Iraq brought black veils (khimār, a head-covering) to Medina and could not sell them. Miskīn, who had given up poetry for a life of devotion, composed these lines for him, and they were set to music and sung. Every woman in the city then wanted a black veil, and the merchant sold his whole stock. The lines, which tell of an ascetic undone by a woman in a black veil at the mosque door, became proverbial. ↩
  3. Khayāl, also ṭayf, is the phantom of the beloved that visits the lover at night, a central motif of classical Arabic love poetry. Here it comes to a man who had renounced love, and it returns later in the poem: it gleams before him as he prays, and he whispers to it behind the door. ↩
  4. Al-mutahajjid is one who rises in the night for voluntary prayer (tahajjud) and gives up sleep for worship. The irony is that his sleep is now driven away not by devotion but by love. ↩
  5. From here to the end of the third stanza, the second half of the second line and the whole of the third line of each stanza are Miskīn al-Dārimī's original verses: 'Tell the fair one in the black veil: what have you done to an ascetic, to worship devoted? He had tucked his robes up to pray, until, before him at the mosque door, you stood. Give him back his prayer and his fasting; do not kill him, by the faith of Muhammad!' ↩
  6. Anākha rikābahu, 'he made his riding camels kneel', is the classical image of a traveller who has arrived and settled for good. The ḥaram is a sanctuary, a sacred precinct, above all the sanctuaries of Mecca and Medina. The ascetic has ended his journey and made his home in devotion. ↩
  7. Tashmīr, tucking or rolling up one's robes, is what a man does when he sets about a task in earnest, and in the original context it also kept one's clothes clear of dust and impurity for prayer. The phrase has become an idiom for zeal and dedication. ↩
  8. Hawā means both 'to fall' and 'to fall in love' (hawā is also the noun 'passion'). The heart that 'fell headlong' is at once a heart in love and a heart brought low from its former station. The same verb returns in stanza 8: 'he fell, broken-hearted, in his chains'. ↩
  9. Shaykh rawā is a scholar or elder who transmits religious knowledge, especially the Prophet's traditions (ḥadīth). It may also point to the shaykh who recites healing verses (ruqya) over the afflicted. Neither his own devotion nor the learning or cures of the pious can help him. ↩
  10. The miḥrāb is the niche in a mosque wall that marks the direction of prayer, and by extension a place of private worship. Hāma, 'to wander distraught', is the verb used of the classical lovers who roamed the desert maddened by love; here the lover wanders lost within the prayer-niche itself. In stanza 7 the phrase 'the prayer-niche of love' turns the image round: love has become his place of worship. ↩
  11. Khalawāt are periods of seclusion given over to prayer and remembrance of God, a practice especially associated with Sufi devotion. ↩
  12. Āya means a 'sign' or 'marvel', and also a 'verse' of the Qur'an. The man who can 'no longer recite a single verse' (stanza 5) was himself 'the āya of his age'. ↩
  13. Lithām is a veil drawn over the lower part of the face. It stands here alongside the khimār, the head-veil of the original poem. ↩
  14. Bi-ghayri ḥisāb, 'without reckoning', is a Qur'anic phrase used of God's bounty, which He gives 'without reckoning' (for example 2:212 and 39:10). Applied to a temptation that roams unchecked, it carries a sharp irony. ↩
  15. The language of these lines is the language of the hereafter: 'everlasting torment' (al-ʿadhāb al-sarmad) and yaṣlā, 'to burn in' or 'to be roasted by' fire, a verb the Qur'an uses of the damned in Hell. The pious man who had worked to be saved from the fire of the next world now burns in the fire of love. The 'torment without end' he hopes to escape may be read as Hell itself, which he still fears, or as the endless torment of his passion, from which only she can save him; the Arabic holds both. ↩
  16. Hāma al-taqiyyu fa-ḍāʿa fī hayamānihi: hāma is to wander distraught, maddened by love, and hayamān is that love-madness itself. Verb and noun share one root, as 'ran wild' and 'wildness' do here, and the pairing of taqī ('pious man') with them tells the whole story of the poem in a single phrase. ↩
  17. Tasbīḥ is the glorification of God, especially the formula Subḥāna rabbiya l-ʿaẓīm, 'Glory be to my Lord, the Almighty', said softly while bowing (rukūʿ) in prayer. Sahā is the technical term for an oversight in prayer, for which the law prescribes the 'prostrations of forgetfulness' (sujūd al-sahw). The final line goes further: he has not merely made a slip in the prayer, he has forgotten the prayer itself. ↩

English translation prepared by artificial intelligence and reviewed against the Arabic for accuracy of meaning and rhetoric.