al-Qaseedah al-‘Ayniyyah

By Muhammad Mahdi al-Jawahiri

Below is the translation of the first half of the legendary al-Qaseedah al-‘Ayniyyah of Iraqi poet Muhammad Mahdi al-Jawahiri (1899-1997). Al-Jawahiri is celebrated as the best Arab poet of the 20th century par excellence. His great grandfather, Muhammad Hasan al-Najafi, wrote the Shi’a fiqhi masterpiece “Jawaahir al-Kalaam” (The Jewels of Speech). This famous qaseedah of his, where he eulogizes Imam al-Husayn (a.s.), is written in golden ink on the gate of entry to the mausoleum of the Imam in Karbalaa’. It is also known by its title, drawn from one of its stanzas: “I Believe in Husayn.” It is considered by many among the best poems ever written eulogizing the Imam. In translation, attempt is made to be as close as possible to the original meaning while retaining English couplet rhyme and meter.

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