Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Samaw'al ibn 'Adiya, Al-Ḥamasa السموأل بن عادياء‎ שמואל בן עדיה





إذا المرء لم يدنس من اللوم عرضُهُ فكلُّ رداءٍ يرتديه جميلُ
وإن هو لم يَحْمِلْ على النفس ضَيْمْها فليس إلى حسن الثناء سبيل
تُعَيِّرُنا أنّا قليلٌ عديدُنا فقلتُ لها إنّ الكرام قليل
وما قلّ من كانت بقاياه مِثْلَنا شبابٌ تَسَامَى للعُلا كهول
وما ضَرَّنا أنّا قليلٌ وجارُنا عزيزٌ وجارُ ألاكثرين ذليل
لنا جَبَلٌ يحتلّه من نُجيره منيعٌ يَرُدُّ الطرفَ وهْو كليل
رسا أصلُه تحت الثرى وسما به إلى النجم فرعٌ لا يُنال طويل
وإنّا لقومٌ ما نرى القتل سُبَّةً إذا مارأتْه عامرٌ وسَلُول
يُقَرِّبُ حبُّ الموت آجالَنا لنا وتكرهه آجالُهم فتطول
وما مات منّا سيّدٌ حَتْفَ أنْفِه ولا طُلَّ منّا حيث كان قتيل
تسيل على حدّ الظبات نفوسُنا وليست على غيرالظبات تسيل
صَفَوْنا فلم نكدر وأخلص سرَّنا إناثٌ أطابت حملَنا وفحول
عَلَوْنا إلى خير الظهور وحَطَّنا لوقت إلى خير البطون نُزُول
فنحن كماء المُزْنِ ما فى نِصابنا كهامٌ ولا فينا يُعَدُّ نخيل
ونُنكر إن شئنا على الناس قولّهم ولا ينكرون القول حين نقول
إذا سيّدٌ مِنّا خلا قام سيّدٌ قَؤُولُ لما قال الكرامُ فَعُول
وما أُخْمِدَتْ نارٌ لنا دون طارق ولا ذمّنا فى النازلين نَزِيلُ
وأيّامُنا مشهورةٌ فى عدوّنا لها غُرَرٌ معلومةٌ وحُجُولُ
وأسيافُنا فى كّل غربٍ وشرقٍ بها من قراع الدارعين فلول
معوَّدةً أن لا تُسَلَّ نِصالها فتُغْمَدَ حتّى يُستباحَ قبيل
سَلىِ إن جهلتِ الناس عناّ وعنهمُ وليس سواءً عالمٌ وجَهول
فإنّ بنى الديّان قطبٌ لقومهم تدور رحاهم حولهم وتجول




When a man´s honor is not defiled by baseness, then every cloak he cloaks himself in is comely.

And if he has never constrained himself to endure despite, then there is no way to goodly praise.

She was reproaching us, that we were few in numbers, so I said to her "Indeed, noble men are few.

Not few are they whose remnants are like to us - youths who have climbed to the heights, and old men too.

It harms us not that we are few, seeing that our kinsman is mighty, whereas the kinsman of the most part of men is abased.

We have a mountain where those we protect come to dwell, impregnable, turning back the eye and it a-weary.

Its trunk is anchored beneath the soil, and a branch soars with it to the stars, unattainable, tall.

We indeed are a folk who deem not being killed a disgrace, though Amir and Salul may consider it.

The love of death brings our term near to us, but their term hates death, and is therefore prolonged.

Not one sayyid of ours ever died a natural death, nor was any slain of ours ever left where he lay unavenged.

Our souls flow out along the edge of the sword blades, and do not flow out along other than sword blades.

We have remained pure and unsullied, and females and stallions who bore us in goodly fame kept intact our stock.

We climbed on to the best of backs, and a descending brought us down in due time to the best of bellies.

We are as the water of the rain-shower, in our metal is no bluntness, neither is any miser numbered amongst us.

We disapprove if we will of what other men say, but they disavow never words spoken by us.

Whenever a sayyid of ours disappears, a sayyid arises, one eloquent to speak as noble men speak, and strong to act moreover.

No fire of ours was ever doused against a night-visitor, neither has any casual guest alighting found fault with us.

Our days are famous amongst our foes, they have well-marked blazes and white pasterns,

and our swords in all the west and east have been blunted from smiting against armoured warriors;

their blades are accustomed not to be drawn and then sheathed until the blood of a host is spilled.

If you are ignorant, ask the people concerning us and them, and he who knows and he who is ignorant are not equal."

Surely the Banu ´l-Daiyan are as a pole for their people, their mills turn and rotate around them.
__________________________________________________________________________________
English translation taken and slightly modified from A.J. Arberry´s Arabic Poetry a Primer for Students

The poem is full of a vibrant machismo which extols the excellence of the Banu `l-Daiyan while hurling impertinent insults and invective against the opponent and enemy. It encompasses and preserves an idealized, aristocratic, masculine, warrior ethos. In the end, it is a response to an insult hurled by an unnamed and unknown woman. While the Banu ´l-Daiyan are as a pole for their people, their mills turn and rotate around them this poem turns and rotates around this unnamed woman´s insult.  

Arabic poems usually name the women which appear in them, e.g.; the idealized beloved of the poet, but not so in this poem.  Her insult you are few implies so much more: you are small, weak, pathetic, cowardly, easily conquered, etc., etc.Of course the response to this one, little insult is the remainder of the poem filled with its bravado and hyperbole. In the process an idealized image and ethos of what it means to be a male member of the Banu `l-Daiyan emerges. Was she a member of the warring tribe and enemy coming out to meet them in battle? Was she a recent captive, the booty and spoils of war, or was she a member of the Banu `l-Daiyan, some one´s wife or concubine? Of course, not naming her is also a tactic of the poet. She is the antithesis of the Beloved, she is the Unbeloved, the Slanderess. Her insult serves as the occassion for this poem, and excepting that, she is best forgotten. 

All of Arabic poetry of the Jahiliyya has been highly redacted, if not, outright created by the early Grammarians. The poem is highly stylized and we will likely never know if Samaw'al ibn 'Adiya wrote this poem, it was written to celebrate him, or has nothing to do with him at all and it was only attributed to him out of tradition. Arberry and other sources mention that Amir and Salul are rival tribes, and Samaw'al ibn 'Adiya may not have even been a member of the Banu `l-Daiyan The reference "We have a mountain..." may or may not be a reference to Samaw´al´s castle near Taima.

 

Saturday, March 16, 2013

PSALM 120



שִׁיר, הַמַּעֲלוֹת

אֶל יְהוָה בַּצָּרָתָה לִּי קָרָאתִי וַיַּעֲנֵנִי
יְהוָה הַצִּילָה נַפְשִׁי מִשְּׂפַת שֶׁקֶר מִלָּשֹׁון רְמִיָּה
מַה יִּתֵּן לְךָ וּמַה יֹּסִיף לָךְ לָשֹׁון רְמִיָּה
חִצֵּי גִבֹּור שְׁנוּנִים עִם גַּחֲלֵי רְתָמִים
אֹויָה לִי כִּי גַרְתִּי מֶשֶׁךְ שָׁכַנְתִּי עִם אָהֳלֵי קֵדָר
רַבַּת שָׁכְנָה לָּהּ נַפְשִׁי עִם שֹׂונֵא שָׁלֹום
אֲ‍נִי שָׁלֹום וְכִי אֲדַבֵּר הֵמָּה לַמִּלְחָמָה

A Song of Ascents:

In my dilemma I called upon Ha Shem and he answered me,
Ha Shem delivered me from lying and shooting off at the mouth.
"What will it get you and what will you earn shooting off at the mouth?
- An enemy´s precise and fiery strike!"
Woe is me, because I sojourn among those who hang on to grievances,
because I dwell with a warring people.
Too long have I lived among the peace-haters.
I want peace, therefore I seek diplomacy,
but they want war.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

بشار بن برد - منَ المشهورِ بالحبِّ "Whoever would be Renowned in Hanky-Panky" by Bashar ibn Burd

منَ المشهورِ بالحبِّ إِلَى قَاسِيَة ِ الْقَلْبِ
 سَلاَمُ اللّه ذِي الْعَرَشِ على وجهكِ ياحبِّي
فأمَّا بعدُ يا قرَّة َ عيني ومنى قلبي
ويا نفسي التي تســكُنُ بَيْنَ الْجَنْبِ والْجَنْبِ
لقدْ أنكرتُ يا عبدَ جفاءً منكِ في الكتبِ
أعَنْ ذَنْبٍ وَلاَ واللَّهِ مَا أحْدَثْتُ مِنْ ذَنْبِ
ولاَ والله ما في الشَّرْقِ منْ أنثى ولاَ الغربِ
سِوَاكِ اليوم أهواها على جدِ ولا لعبِ


Whoever would be renowned in hanky-panky, ought to become hardhearted.
Your semblance is the peace that surpasses all understanding, honey.
So then, my darling and the destiny of my heart,
Yeah even my soulmate who resides here within this home.
Certainly I don´t know what you mean, Abbey, the messages from you were so harsh.
A howler? No, by God, what have I made for a howler?
No, by God, not in the East, nor in the West, there is no handmaiden
except you. Today I dropped her, in all seriousness and no hoax.*

translated by Mark F Westergreen

Meaningful glances alone can still be ambiguous or unsatisfying. Gifts are more substantial, and as fetishists go, few can outdo the lover who dropped her used toothbrush that Bashar ibn Burd picked up. The grateful poet said, "I kissed the thing that touched her mouth, and wished I were it."

*the last line can also be read:

Today I picked up your toothbrush, in all seriousness and it didn't dash hopes.





בעין דור שאול טשרניחובסקי - In Ein Dor by Shaul Tchernichovsky

Philistine military tactic "shadow of death"
ובחשכת הליל בלי קשת ושלח
על סוס קל עין דורה בא שאול המלך

ובאחד הבתים אור כהה הופיע
פה תגור הנער לו חרש הביע

את בעלת האוב כן אדוני הנני
נא קסמי באוב צל הראה הראיני

עלטה אש זוועות בפינה קלחת
ושמות כל השדים ובליל
ה רותחת

וכנחש יתפתל בין עשבי הבשן
יזחלו יתאבכו כל תימרות העשן

ובמעגל הקסמים בגופרית משוח
שם יעמוד המלך לא לבו ינוח

ויצורי ערפל וצלמים נשערים
אגלי הזיעה על לחיו נגרים

אף רוחו בו רפתה גם נפשו דואבת
מה ימס בו לבו וינבא המוות

חייו במחזה יעברו יאתיו
הנח לי הנח לי שפתיו יבעיו

עלטה אש זוועות דממת השחת
מעגל הקסמים ועשן הקלחת

ויזכר המלך את גבע ועלומיו
אביב חלדו טרם יקדרו עוד שמיו

ותמונות מרהיבות עיניו תחזינה
כר נרחב יופיע ופרות תרעינה

ותכלת רום שחק גם ריחות עדנים
אל תחת צל אלה חסן כאלונים

שם שלו ינוח הרועה העלם
ולנגדו ירקדו הבקרים בתלם

אך שלווה ונעם אך יפעה והדר
מה נעמו צלצלי פעמון העדר

אנכי מאשר גם בריא גם רענן
מי יתן אוכלה וכאז אהי שאנן

ועצבת נוראה סגור לבו לחצה
וכמו שפעת דמעה אל גרונו פרצה

ופתאום וירעם קול גדול וחזק
ואשון העלטה האיר הבזק

אנכי הראה למלך משחך
מאחרי הבקר היכל הושיבך

ממחלות רקבון על מה הרגזתני
ולארצות החיים מה העליתני

מדוע מאחר הצאן לקחתני
ולנגיד על עמך כיום זה שמתני

כליתי כל כחי בסערות מלחמה
ואשרי בבית כבר לשממה

עם פלשת סבוני בעותי צלמות
הרוח הרעה תדכאני עד מות

איש האלוהים מה אל יענני
כי סר מעלי מה אעשה ענני

מדוע, הה. מלך על עמך משחתני
מדוע מאחרי הצאן לקחתני

על מריך גאון ליבך אלוהים יזעמך
מחר את עמי גם אתה גם עמך

באשמרת הבקר בלי קשת ושלח
על סוס קל המחנה שב שאול המלך

ופניו חורו אך בלבו אין מורא
ובעיניו מתנוצצות היאוש הנורא

________________________________________________________

By cloak of night without bow or javelin...
on a swift horse to Ein Dor comes Saul the King.

Oh, from one of the houses a dim light appears:
„She lives here“, the boy quietly expresses.

„Are you the Sorceress?, Yes, my liege, I am her.“
„Cast your spells I pray and show me the spirit of the Seer!“

Darkness, fire, horrors within the pot,
the names of all the demons on a sultry night...

like snakes slithering between the grasses
of Bashan, crawling, they rise up in smokey pillars.

Within the circle of enchantments and consecrated in sulfur,
stands the King, his heart finding no slumber.

Creatures of the netherworld and images of lost souls...
beads of sweat flow down upon his cheeks.

As the angry spirit in him subsides, his soul becomes depressed.
How his heart melts within him, predicting - death.

As the breath leaves his breast, it comes to pass...
that the words „Leave me alone, leave me alone", fall from his lips.

Darkness, fire, horrors. The grave´s silence...
the circle of enchantments and the cauldron´s smoke...

The King recalls Gibeah, and its secrets,
The spring of his youth, before the darkening of the skies.

Pleasant pictures pass before his eyes:
An expansive orchard, ripe with fruit, appears.

The azure heights of the clouds and pleasant breezes,
under the shade of a terebinth, mighty like the oak trees.

Here, he relaxed, the shepherd, the young man,
the flock prancing opposite him in unison.

Only calm and pleasantness, only splendor and beauty ...
how pleasant, the ringing of the flock´s bell.

„I was completely contented, so fat, so fresh,
I wish I were entirely consumed, for as then, I would be carefree!“

Then an awful sorrow seized his heart shut,
as if a torrent of tears in his throat would burst.

Suddenly a strong, loud voice thundered out,
and in the dead of night flashed a blinding light.

“I am the Seer, to be King you were anointed,
behind the stalls were you appointed.

Why have you disturbed me in the chambers of the dead
and raised me back up to this living man´s land?“

„Why did you take me away from the pasture,
as on the day you appointed me to be leader over your people?

I´ve spent all my strength in the storms of war.
And what remains at home is already completely destroyed by warfare.

The Philistines surround me with their tactic shadow of death,
and a personal demon terrorizes me to the point of self destruction.

Man of God!, Why won´t you answer me?
Why do you turn away from me? What should I do? Answer me!

Why, God, did you anoint me a king of your people,
why did you take me from the pasture?“

„For your disobedience and conceit, God is angry with you!
Tomorrow you´ll be with me, you and yours!“

In the dawn´s early light without bow and javelin,
on a swift horse, he returns to camp, Saul the King

Oh, his face is pale, but his heart is not bitter,
and in his eyes glimmers the dreadful despair.


Translated into English by Mark F Westergreen


Biblical Background: 1 Samuel.  9-11 and 28 -31

The Philistine military tactic "shadow of death" is a lot like the American "Schock and Awe" used in the Gulf War. It also bears similarities to many of the battles in the early American-Indian wars.