by Abu Nuwas, translated from the Arabic by Alex Rowell
Cease your reproach, for reproach is only temptation
And cure me with the very cause of my debilitation
Saffron-coloured, no sorrow possible from it
Even in stone would it inspire elation
Poured from the palm of a girl dressed as boy
An intrigue for one of any orientation
She lifts the carafe against the black night
Her face lit with brilliant radiation
Sending from the jug’s lip a stream so bright
That eyes, in its glare, close as in sedation
Wine so fine, so pure and delicate
To add water would be contamination
With light alone may it be mixed
Giving off dazzling illumination
Passed between boys whom time itself worships
To whom no harm comes save by their invitation
For this do I weep, not for a campsite
At which Hind and Asma once did station[1]Hind and Asma are among the stock names of female lovers in classical Arabic poetry. The line “For this do I weep, not for a campsite” is a satire on the tradition of commencing poetry with a … Continue reading
To think that wine was drunk in tents
Amid camels’ and sheep’s fragrant emanation
Say, then, to whom affects learning in philosophy
Knowing one thing doesn’t comprise an education
Don’t forbid others what you choose to eschew
For prohibition is, in religion, desecration[2]This final line, and indeed the entire poem, is intended as a rejoinder to an eminent cleric of the time, Ibrahim al-Natham, who had rebuked Abu Nuwas for his extravagant drinking, open bisexuality, … Continue reading
دَعْ عَنْكَ لَوْمِي فَإنَّ اللَّوْمَ إغْرَاءُ
وَدَاوِنِي بِالَّتِي كَانَتْ هِيَ الدَّاءُ
صَفْرَاءُ لا تَنْزَلُ الأحْزَانُ سَاحَتَهَا
لَوْ مَسَّهَا حَجَرٌ مَسَّتْهُ سَرَّاءُ
مِنْ كَفِّ ذَاتِ حِرٍّ في زِيِّ ذي ذَكَرٍ
لَهَا مُحِبَّانِ لوطيٌّ وَزَنَّاءُ
قَامَتْ بِإبْرِيقِهَا والَّيْلُ مُعْتَكِرٌ
فَلَاحَ مِنْ وَجْهِهَا في البَيْتِ لَألَاءُ
فَأرْسَلَتْ مِنْ فَمِ الإبْرِيقِ صَافِيَةً
كَأنَّمَا أَخْذُهَا بِالعَيْنِ إغْفَاءُ
رَقَّتْ عَنْ المَاءِ حَتَّى ما يُلَائِمُهَا
لَطَافَةً وَجَفَا عَنْ شَكْلِهَا المَاءُ
فَلَوْ مَزَجْتَ بِهَا نُوْرَاً لمَازَجَهَا
حَتَّى تَوَلَّدُ أنْوَارٌ وَأضْوَاءُ
دَارَتْ عَلى فِتْيَةٍ دَانَ الزَّمَانُ لَهُمْ
فَمَا يُصِيبُهُمْ إلَّا بِمَا شَاؤُوا
لِتِلْكَ أبْكِي وَلا أبْكِي لِمَنْزِلَةٍ
كَانَتْ تَحُلُّ بِهَا هِنْدٌ وَأسْمَاءُ
حَاشَا لِدُرَّةٍ أنْ تُبْنَى الخِيامُ لَهَا
وَأنْ تَرُوحَ عَليهَا الإبْلُ وَالشَّاءُ
فَقُلْ لِمَنْ يَدَّعِي في العِلمِ فَلسَفَةً
حَفِظْتَ شَيْئَاً وَغَابَتْ عَنْكَ أشْيَاءُ
لا تَحْظُرْ العَفْوَ إنْ كُنْتَ امْرَأً حَرِجَاً
فَإنَّ حَظَرْكَهُ في الدِّينِ إزْرَاءُ
Alex Rowell
Alex Rowell is a Beirut-based reporter on political and cultural affairs for NOW Lebanon. His writing has also been published in outlets including BBC, the Economist, the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Left Foot Forward, and the UK National Secular Society. He has spoken on HuffPost Live TV and BBC World Service and Monocle 24 radio. He is completing a book-length rhyming translation of the khamriyyat, or wine poetry, of Abu Nuwas. He tweets at @disgraceofgod.
Footnotes:
| ↑1 | Hind and Asma are among the stock names of female lovers in classical Arabic poetry. The line “For this do I weep, not for a campsite” is a satire on the tradition of commencing poetry with a tearful tribute to a vanished desert dwelling (e.g. Imru’ al-Qays’ famous “Stop, let us weep in memory of a resting place and a lover”). Abu Nuwas delighted in mocking what he saw as the tedium and backwardness of this ritual. |
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| ↑2 | This final line, and indeed the entire poem, is intended as a rejoinder to an eminent cleric of the time, Ibrahim al-Natham, who had rebuked Abu Nuwas for his extravagant drinking, open bisexuality, and apparent want of piety in general. The line is often interpreted as an expression of a then-current theological doctrine called al-Murji’a, whose adherents held that moral judgment of man was reserved for God alone, who would pardon the sins of true believers on Judgment Day. By this logic, al-Natham was in fact “desecrating” Islam by deeming himself fit to reproach the poet. |
