حَلَمْتُ لَيْلَةَ أَمْسِحُلْماً يُصَوِّرُ حِسِّي
رَأَيْتُنِي فِي طَرِيقٍأَسِيرُ فِيهِ وَأُرْسِي
فِي جَانِبَيْهِ نَخِيلٌلَهُ حَفِيفٌ كَهَمْسِ
أُحَادِثُ الْقَلْبَ لَكِنْلَدَى أَسَارِيرِ نَفْسِي
هُنَاكَ كُنْتُ كَطَيْرٍتَشْدُو أَغَارِيدَ عُرْسِ
كَوَرْدَةٍ تَتَنَاجَىمَعَ النَّسِيمِ الْمُؤَسِّي
وَفِكْرُ ذِهْنِي شَرِيدٌوَنَظْرَتِي بَلْ وَحِسِّي
تَبَعْثَرَتْ خَطَوَاتِيوَطَافَ بِالْأُفْقِ حَدْسِي
وَفَجْأَةً تَتَجَلَّىحَبِيبَتِي مِثْلَ شَمْسِ
وَشَعْرُهَا يَتَهَادَىنُعُومَةً كَالدِّمَقْسِ
تَمُدُّ كَفَّيْ غَرَامٍوَفِي خُشُوعٍ وَنَكْسِ
وَفِي عُذُوبَةِ صَوْتٍأَتَى بِأَرْخَمِ جَرْسِ
قَالَتْ أُحِبُّكَ إِنِّيأُرِيدُ قُرْبَكَ أُنْسِي
بَحَثْتُ عَنْكَ طَوِيلاًوَالشَّوْقُ يُلْهِبُ نَفْسِي
كَمْ وَاجَهَتْنِي ظُرُوفٌتَكَسَّرَتْ فَوْقَ تُرْسِي
وَطَوَّقَتْنِي الدَّوَاهِيمِنْ كُلِّ صَوْبٍ بِضِرْسِ
وَرَاوَدَتْنِي فُنُونٌفَمَا حَنَيْتُ بِرَأْسِي
وَبَدَّدَتْنِي هُمُومٌوَالْهَمُّ يَمْحُو وَيُنْسِي
وَسِرْتُ فِي الدَّرْبِ وَحْدِيوَطَيْفُ شَخْصِكَ شَمْسِي
وَكَمْ رَنَوْتُ لِأُفْقِيبِأَعْيُنٍ ذَاتِ نَعْسِ
فَمَا وَجَدْتُكَ لَكِنْلَمْ يَطْرُقِ الْيَأْسُ نَفْسِي
وَالْآنَ جِئْتُكَ فَاهْدَأْفَلَيْسَ بِي أَيُّ بَأْسِ
وَضُمَّنِي فِي ضُلُوعٍوَامْلَأْ أَذَانِي بِهَمْسِ
فَقُلْتُ وَالدَّمْعُ يَهْمِيوَالشَّوْقُ يَمْلَأُ نَفْسِي
هَلَّا نَذُوبُ كِلَانَافَلَا نَرَى غَيْرَ رَمْسِ؟
مقديشو — 3/9/1984
A Beautiful Dream
- Last night I dreamed a dream
that painted all I sense. - I saw myself upon a road,
now walking, now at rest. - Along its sides stood palm trees
that rustled as with whispers. - I talked with my heart, but in the presence
of my soul's glowing gladness1. - There I was like a bird
that sings the trills of wedding feasts, - like a rose that trades its secrets
with the consoling breeze. - The thoughts within my mind were straying,
my gaze, and even every sense. - My steps were scattered,
and my intuition roamed the horizons. - And suddenly my love appears,
revealed, like a sun in its brilliance. - Her hair sways gently down,
as soft as silk damask2. - She holds out hands of love,
her head bowed low, in humbleness, - and in a voice of sweetness
that brought the softest tones - she said: “I love you; I
want to be near you, my solace. - I've searched for you so long,
with longing setting my soul ablaze. - How many trials came at me
and shattered on my shield! - Calamities hemmed me in
from every side, with grinding teeth. - Temptations of every kind
tried3 to lure me, but I never bowed my head. - Cares have scattered me, and care
wipes all away and brings forgetfulness. - I walked the road alone,
and the phantom4 of you was my sun. - How often I gazed towards my horizon
with drowsy eyes, - and did not find you; but despair
never came knocking at my soul. - And now I've come to you, so rest easy:
there is no harm in me, and no distress. - Hold me close within your ribs,
and fill my ears with whispers5.” - And I said, with tears pouring down
and longing filling all my soul: - “Why should we not both melt away,
till we see nothing but a grave6?”
Mogadishu, 3 September 1984
Notes
- Asārīr are the lines of the forehead and face that brighten with joy; hence 'the asārīr of my soul' is the soul's glow of gladness. The poet talks to his heart while his whole being is lit up with delight. ↩
- Dimaqs, 'white silk', is a rare classical word, familiar to Arabic readers from the Muʿallaqa of Imruʾ al-Qays, where it describes something soft and fine as fringes of twisted silk. ↩
- Rāwadathu, 'tried to seduce him', is the verb the Qur'an uses of the wife of the Egyptian nobleman who tried to seduce Joseph (12:23). Its use here gives the beloved's steadfastness the colour of Joseph's chastity in the face of temptation. ↩
- Ṭayf is the phantom of the beloved that visits the lover in sleep or reverie, a central image of classical Arabic love poetry. Here the image is reversed: it is she who has walked alone, guided by his phantom as by the sun. ↩
- She, who has just whispered her love, now asks to hear his whispers in return. Adhānī, ‘my ears’, is a shortened form of ādhānī, kept for the metre. ↩
- Rams is a grave, strictly the earth heaped over it. The closing question joins love and death: to melt into each other so completely that nothing is left of the world, or of themselves, but the grave they share. It echoes the old theme of lovers united only in death, and the dream ends on a note of longing for an absolute union. ↩
English translation prepared by artificial intelligence and reviewed against the Arabic for accuracy of meaning and rhetoric.
