May I be ransom for your resting place:
فِدَاءً لمثواكَ من مَضْجَعِ تَنَوَّرَ بالأبلَجِ الأروَعِ
A grave blossoming with your epic trace
بأعبقَ من نَفحاتِ الجِنانِ رُوْحَاً ومن مِسْكِها أَضْوَعِ
With aroma sweeter than heavenly gusts
وَرَعْيَاً ليومِكَ يومِ الطُّفوف وسَقْيَاً لأرضِكَ مِن مَصْرَعِ
Yet fresher—more diffuse than its musk!
وحُزْناً عليكَ بِوقف النفوس على نَهْجِكَ اللاحب المَهْيَعِ
May I always recall your day on those plains
وصَوْنَاً لمجدِكَ مِنْ أَنْ يُذَال بما أنتَ تأباهُ مِنْ مُبْدَعِ
And water your grounds: the place you were slain
فيا أيُّها الوِتْرُ في الخالدِينَ فَذَّاً، إلى الآنَ لم يُشْفَعِ
In sorrow for you and the souls that did stay
ويا عِظَةَ الطامحينَ العِظامِ للاهينَ عن غَدِهِمْ قُنَّعِ
Firm on your clear and illustrious way
تعاليتَ من مُفْزِعٍ للحُتوفِ وبُورِكَ قبرُكَ من مَفْزَعِ
May I never allow disgrace to your dignity
تلوذُ الدُّهورُ فَمِنْ سُجَّدٍ على جانبيه ومن رُكَّعِ
By what you rebuke of many a heresy
شَمَمْتُ ثَرَاكَ فَهَبَّ النَّسِيمُ نَسِيمُ الكَرَامَةِ مِنْ بَلْقَعِ
Oh One whose uniqueness will persist forever
وعَفَّرْتُ خَدِّي بحيثُ استراحَ خَدٌّ تَفَرَّى ولم يَضْرَعِ
Till today, the Exclusive—unpaired with another
وحيثُ سنابِكُ خيلِ الطُّغَاةِ جالتْ عليهِ ولم يَخْشَعِ
And Oh Omen for those who covet profusely,
وَخِلْتُ وقد طارتِ الذكرياتُ بِروحي إلى عَالَمٍ أرْفَعِ
Conceited—neglecting their fate in their folly:
وطفتُ بقبرك طوف الخيال بصومعة الملهم المبدع
Above every dreadful demise you do tower
كأنَّ يَدَاً مِنْ وَرَاءِ الضَّرِيحِ حمراءَ مَبْتُورَةَ الإصْبَعِ
While your grave is hailed by all as a shelter
تَمُدُّ إلى عَالَمٍ بالخُنُوعِ وَالضَّيْمِ ذي شَرَقٍ مُتْرَعِ
Epochs themselves at your haven do harbor
تَخَبَّطَ في غابةٍ أطْبَقَتْ على مُذْئِبٍ منه أو مُسْبِعِ
Some bowing down, and yet others cower
لِتُبْدِلَ منهُ جَدِيبَ الضَّمِيرِ بآخَرَ مُعْشَوْشِبٍ مُمْرِعِ
I did smell your soil—its breeze oh so fragrant
وتدفعَ هذي النفوسَ الصغارَ خوفاً إلى حَرَمٍ أَمْنَعِ
The breeze of glory from a land oh so vacant!
تعاليتَ من صاعِقٍ يلتظي فَإنْ تَدْجُ داجِيَةٌ يَلْمَعِ
I soiled my cheek in that place where had keeled
تأرّمُ حِقداً على الصاعقاتِ لم تُنْيءِ ضَيْراً ولم تَنْفَعِ
A cheek that was shred, but never did yield!
ولم تَبْذُرِ الحَبَّ إثرَ الهشيمِ وقد حَرَّقَتْهُ ولم تَزْرَعِ
That place where the hooves of those tyrants’ horses
ولم تُخْلِ أبراجَها في السماء ولم تأتِ أرضاً ولم تُدْقِعِ
Had galloped upon him, bereft of remorses!
ولم تَقْطَعِ الشَّرَّ من جِذْمِهِ وغِلَّ الضمائرِ لم تَنْزعِ
I imagined—while my reflections did fly
ولم تَصْدِمِ الناسَ فيما هُمُ عليهِ مِنَ الخُلُقِ الأوْضَعِ
My soul to a world that existed On High
تعاليتَ من فَلَكٍ قُطْرُهُ يَدُورُ على المِحْوَرِ الأوْسَعِ
I circled your grave: a view in bird’s-eye
فيابنَ البتولِ وحَسْبِي بِهَا ضَمَاناً على كُلِّ ما أَدَّعِي
Around this tomb of a saint glorified
ويابنَ التي لم يَضَعْ مِثْلُها كمِثْلِكِ حَمْلاً ولم تُرْضِعِ
It seemed a hand from beyond the crypt
ويابنَ البَطِينِ بلا بِطْنَةٍ ويابنَ الفتى الحاسرِ الأنْزَعِ
Stained in blood, of a finger stripped
ويا غُصْنَ هاشِمَ لم يَنْفَتِحْ بأزْهَرَ منكَ ولم يُفْرِعِ
Stretched out itself to a world so disloyal
ويا واصِلاً من نشيدِ الخُلود خِتَامَ القصيدةِ بالمَطْلَعِ
Oppressive and cruel, filled of turmoil
يَسِيرُ الوَرَى بركابِ الزمانِ مِنْ مُسْتَقِيمٍ ومن أظْلَعِ
A world that roamed in woods encompassed
وأنتَ تُسَيِّرُ رَكْبَ الخلودِ ما تَسْتَجِدُّ لهُ يَتْبَعِ
By wolves and beasts at every impasse
To change over hearts that had become shriveled
With others verdant, with foliage bristled
To steer those spirits degraded by fear
To a sanctum in which they may always adhere!
Exalted you are—like lightning that razes
In darkest night: your light just blazes
All other bolts in its quake do shudder
For they do not aid or avert disaster
Yes! They sow not love after destruction
And they never reap upon their ignition
Yes! They do not leave their lofts in the sky
Nor descend to the Earth to be mortified!
Nor can they slice off the root of evil
Nor root out hate from the hearts of people
Nor can they fight against such of men
In morals deprived, with no acumen!
Nay exalted you are! In yourself a world
On an Axis Divine—completely whirled
Oh son of Batool! And she is enough
To prove that all I say is no bluff
Oh son of the best to ever conceive
An offspring like you or ever breastfeed
Oh son of the stout—yet never a glutton,
Oh son of the hero, the victor, the titan!
Oh sprout of Hashim, who none did blossom
Flowers more bright or offspring more awesome!
Oh hinge in the hymn of immortality
Between the first stanza and its finale!
Mankind on the backs of time does traverse
Some upright, and yet others perverse
As for you—you guide eternity’s horse
What you enact, it just follows course!
