Dark is the day before it’s seen; an adjective’s
untrue until it's verified by sight, & since

people flock till they no longer find a reason to,
no images of you exist for me, only sounds;

far off from the lot, I'd stand
witness to all my eye saw secondhand.

You raise, King Rumi, the glance of Day
with your forgiveness, which is a victory for it;

since you responded to its call, it shines, still,
proudly upon all your lands.

Their necks were saved from swords,
while the lot stayed looking, you substituted

swords for people, so that you could
gain more heads, more crowds & power over them.

Your generousness is like a morning rain,
itself a generosity from you, enjoyed by rain;

the sun, too, earns its light from you
as the moon earns its light from the sun.

Al-Mutanabbi


ظُلمٌ لذا اليَوْمِ وَصْفٌ قبلَ رُؤيَتِه
لا يصْدُقُ الوَصْفُ حتى يَصْدُقَ النظرُ

تَزَاحَمَ الجَيشُ حتى لم يَجِدْ سَبَباً
إلى بِساطِكَ لي سَمْعٌ وَلا بَصَرُ

فكُنتُ أشهَدَ مُخْتَصٍّ وَأغْيَبَهُ
مُعَايِناً وَعِيَاني كُلُّهُ خَبَرُ

ألْيَوْمَ يَرْفَعُ مَلْكُ الرّومِ نَاظرَهُ
لأنّ عَفوَكَ عَنْهُ عندَهُ ظَفَرُ

وَإنْ أجَبْتَ بشَيْءٍ عَنْ رَسائِلِهِ
فَمَا يَزالُ على الأمْلاكِ يَفْتَخِرُ

قَدِ اسْتَرَاحَتْ إلى وَقْتٍ رِقابُهُمُ
منَ السّيوفِ وَباقي القَوْمِ يَنتَظِرُ

وَقَدْ تُبَدِّلُهَا بالقَوْمِ غَيْرَهُمُ
لكيْ تَجِمَّ رُؤوسُ القَوْمِ وَالقَصَرُ

تَشبيهُ جُودِكَ بالأمْطارِ غَادِيَةً
جُودٌ لكَفّكَ ثانٍ نَالَهُ المَطَرُ

تكَسَّبُ الشمْسُ منكَ النّورَ طالعَةً
كمَا تَكَسّبَ منها نُورَهُ القَمَرُ

من ديوان المتنبي

____


Mutanabbi’s panegyric dabbles in the very essence of praise – which is also the essence of language: that is, the question of what certifies the bond between language and objects. In this poem, the apparent “primary source” of language is sight, but the poet resists the seduction of vision to maintain the mysteriousness between the real and the imagined. A different kind of praise emerges; if the object of veneration is worthy of the veneration than it will verified by the world itself. Hence the religious monomania of the description; if the object of veneration is proven in the very shudder of the world around him, than he must stand at the center of all likeness. Greatness is not the particular skill of an individual to embody “great” qualities, but the generosity of allowing everything around you to verify the greatness of your qualities. But the real radical gesture of this poem is that the poet situates absence at the center of this greatness, so that truth remains inescapable from belief. What I have translated here as “verify” (يصدق) suggests a proof contingent upon feeling, or sincerity; not truth in the abstract sense (حق) which is truth embodied in itself – the one is the lot of men, the other is the lot of God. The poet imagines that the truth of Description lies in the ability of the great man to generate affinities.

Night fell; your favor never falls, your sight's
more suited to the eye than being shut;

you showed such grace that even half of me
was made to testify against the rest it ever was.

The calm above the heavens is His roof,
you worship him walkingly on earth.

Al-Mutanabbi


مضَى اللّيلُ والفضْلُ الذي لك لا يمضِي
ورُؤياكَ أحلى في العيونِ من الغُمضِ

على أنّني طُوّقْتُ مِنْكَ بنِعْمَةٍ
شَهيدٌ بها بعضِي لغيري على بَعضي

سَلامُ الذي فَوْقَ السّماواتِ عَرْشُهُ
تُخَصّ بهِ يا خَيرَ ماشٍ على الأرْضِ

المتنبي

Foot of Al-Khidr

مَرَتْكَ ابنَ إبراهيمَ صافِيَةُ الخَمْرِ
وهُنّئْتَها من شارِبٍ مُسكرِ السُّكرِ

رأيْتُ الحُمَيّا في الزّجاجِ بكَفّهِ
فشَبّهْتُها بالشمسِ في البدرِ في البحرِ

إذا ما ذكَرْنا جُودَهُ كانَ حاضِراً
نأى أوْ دَنا يسعى على قدمِ الخِضْرِ

المتنبي

Your wholesomeness, Ibn Ibrahim, is the purest
liquor; you drink to it with drunkenness's blend.

I watched the wine as it filled the glass & likened it
to the sun by the moon by the sea;

even when we don’t observe its generousness, it's there --
far or near, moving with the foot of Al Khidr.

Al Mutanabbi

After Mutanabbi

(second draft)

For you was named that
which after you are

called and cast
what before you was

planetary dark
you followed it as if

the severed part of you
lay on its shadowed side

They called you Golden
Golden not after the ungodly

sun that burns above
our days and burning nights

but Golden as in blood
bereft of kin

endless circulation
My gilded son go blind and be

that whose name
you intermingle with

My orphan gold lead
me from dark bringing fire

Al-Mutanabbi

كَتَمْتُ حُبّكِ حتى منكِ تكرمَةً
ثمّ اسْتَوَى فيهِ إسراري وإعْلاني

كأنّهُ زادَ حتى فَاضَ عَن جَسَدي
فصارَ سُقْمي بهِ في جِسْمِ كِتماني

المتنبي


Until our love was honored I concealed it,
so that what was held equaled what remained without:

it grew to overflow my flesh, turning
into toxic for my hidden self.

Al-Mutanabbi

لمّا نُسِبْتَ فكُنْتَ ابْناً لِغَيرِ أبٍ
ثمّ اخْتُبِرْتَ فَلَمْ تَرْجعْ إلى أدَبِ

سُمّيتَ بالذّهَبيّ اليَوْمَ تَسْمِيَةً
مُشتَقّةً من ذهابِ العقلِ لا الذّهَبِ

مُلَقَّبٌ بكَ مَا لُقّبْتَ وَيْكَ بهِ
يا أيّها اللّقَبُ المُلقَى على اللّقَبِ

المتنبي


When you traced your name, you were fatherless,
so you ventured forth, throwing out decorum --

on this day you were dubbed Golden*
after the flight from sense (not the substance of the same)

and named, woefully, for that which after you
was called -- O name cast over name.


*The word for "gold" and "go" are the same in Arabic. Though the link is uncertain some propose it is because gold is a substance that passes from hand to hand -- endless circulation.

This is that the leaving
of a lover from his lover
grieving for the going of
the spirit from its body
leaving when the clouds bring
wind that rises then you
beyond the city cannot move
or pass O generous prince from it
onto the white sand
you could call your rest so
you who parted from us one
day do not ever go
_______

My very liberal translation of an Al Mutanabbi poem.