O you who claims understanding...(Qaseda Zohdeya)
Assalamu aleikum,
I have a real treat. Here is a beautiful poem, which Meshary Alafasy (a noted Quran reciter) has recited in a melodious voice (anshada). The poem is actually spliced from a very old Arabic text - the Maqamas* of Al-Hariri. You can listen to the poem here (Qaseda Zohdeya 01): http://www.islamise.co.uk/Nasheeds/Meshary_Rashed.htm
Edit: I have the nasheed saved myself, but now can't find the mp3 file online (a little hunting will do the trick, but I have no time at the moment). Also, the poem caesuras (line breaks) are not showing up; need to do some formatting (any suggestions on how to correctly copy-paste a table in Blogger?). I will fix them - much later :) Ye Olde Woman has worked long enough on this post; and is in fact taking a long spiritual hiatus (going on Umrah). Will trundle back in a month or less. :)
أيا مَن يدّعي الفَـهْـمْ الى كمْ يا أخا الوَهْـمْ
تُعبّي الـذّنْـبَ والـذمّ وتُخْطي الخَطأ الجَـمّ
أمَا بانَ لـكَ الـعـيْبْ أمَا أنْـذرَكَ الـشّـيبْ
وما في نُصحِـهِ ريْبْ ولا سمْعُكَ قـدْ صـمّ
أمَا نادَى بكَ الـمـوتْ أمَا أسْمَعَك الصّـوْتْ
أما تخشَى من الفَـوْتْ فتَحْـتـاطَ وتـهـتـمْ
فكمْ تسدَرُ في السهْـوْ وتختالُ من الـزهْـوْ
وتنْصَبُّ الى الـلّـهـوْ كأنّ الموتَ مـا عَـمّ
وحَـتّـام تَـجـافـيكْ وإبْـطـاءُ تـلافـيكْ
طِباعاً جمْعـتْ فـيكْ عُيوباً شمْلُها انْـضَـمّ
إذا أسخَطْـتَ مـوْلاكْ فَما تقْلَـقُ مـنْ ذاكْ
وإنْ أخفَقَ مسـعـاكْ تلظّيتَ مـنَ الـهـمّ
وإنْ لاحَ لكَ النّـقـشْ منَ الأصفَرِ تهـتَـشّ
وإن مرّ بك النّـعـشْ تغامَـمْـتَ ولا غـمّ
تُعاصي النّاصِحَ البَـرّ وتعْـتـاصُ وتَـزْوَرّ
وتنْقـادُ لـمَـنْ غَـرّ ومنْ مانَ ومـنْ نَـمّ
وتسعى في هَوى النّفسْ وتحْتالُ على الفَـلْـسْ
وتنسَى ظُلمةَ الرّمـسْ ولا تَـذكُـرُ مـا ثَـمّ
ولوْ لاحظَـكَ الـحـظّ لما طاحَ بكَ اللّـحْـظْ
ولا كُنتَ إذا الـوَعـظْ جَلا الأحزانَ تغْـتَـمّ
ستُذْري الدّمَ لا الدّمْـعْ إذا عايَنْتَ لا جـمْـعْ
يَقي في عَرصَةِ الجمعْ ولا خـالَ ولا عــمّ
كأني بـكَ تـنـحـطّ الى اللحْدِ وتـنْـغـطّ
وقد أسلمَك الـرّهـطْ الى أضيَقَ مـنْ سـمّ
هُناك الجسمُ مـمـدودْ ليستـأكِـلَـهُ الـدّودْ
الى أن ينخَرَ الـعـودْ ويُمسي العظمُ قـد رمّ
ومنْ بـعْـدُ فـلا بُـدّ منَ العرْضِ إذا اعتُـدّ
صِراطٌ جَـسْـرُهُ مُـدّ على النارِ لـمَـنْ أمّ
فكمْ من مُرشـدٍ ضـلّ ومـنْ ذي عِـزةٍ ذَلّ
وكم مـن عـالِـمٍ زلّ وقال الخطْبُ قد طـمّ
فبادِرْ أيّها الـغُـمْـرْ لِما يحْلو بـهِ الـمُـرّ
فقد كادَ يهي العُـمـرْ وما أقلعْـتَ عـن ذمّ
ولا ترْكَنْ الى الدهـرْ وإنْ لانَ وإن ســرّ
فتُلْفى كمـنْ اغـتَـرّ بأفعى تنفُـثُ الـسـمّ
وخفّضْ منْ تـراقـيكْ فإنّ المـوتَ لاقِـيكْ
وسارٍ فـي تـراقـيكْ وما ينـكُـلُ إنْ هـمّ
وجانِبْ صعَرَ الـخـدّ إذا ساعـدَكَ الـجـدّ
وزُمّ اللـفْـظَ إنْ نـدّ فَما أسـعَـدَ مَـنْ زمّ
ونفِّسْ عن أخي البـثّ وصـدّقْـهُ إذا نــثّ
ورُمّ العـمَـلَ الـرثّ فقد أفـلـحَ مَـنْ رمّ
ورِشْ مَن ريشُهُ انحصّ بما عمّ ومـا خـصّ
ولا تأسَ على النّقـصْ ولا تحرِصْ على اللَّمّ
وعادِ الخُلُـقَ الـرّذْلْ وعوّدْ كفّـكَ الـبـذْلْ
ولا تستمِـعِ الـعـذلْ ونزّهْها عنِ الـضـمّ
وزوّدْ نفسَكَ الـخـيرْ ودعْ ما يُعقِبُ الضّـيرْ
وهيّئ مركبَ الـسّـيرْ وخَفْ منْ لُـجّةِ الـيمّ
بِذا أُوصـيتُ يا صـاحْ وقد بُحتُ كمَـن بـاحْ
فطوبى لـفـتًـى راحْ بآدابـــيَ يأتَـــمّ
O thou who claimest understanding;
How long, O brother of delusion, wilt thou marshal sin and blame, and err exceeding error?
Is not the shame plain to thee?
Doth not hoariness warn thee? (and in its counsel there is no doubtfulness);
Nor hath thy hearing become deaf.
Is not Death calling thee? doth he not make thee hear his voice?
Dost thou not fear thy passing away, so as to be wary and anxious?
How long wilt thou be bewildered in carelessness, and walk proudly in vanity,
And go eagerly to diversion, as if death were not for all?
'Till when will last thy swerving, and thy delaying to mend habits that
Unite in thee vices whose every sort shall be collected in thee?
If thou anger thy Master thou art not disquieted at it;
But if thy scheme be bootless thou burnest with vexation.
If the graving of the yellow one gleam to thee thou art joyful;
But if the bier pass by thee thou feignest grief, and there is no grief.
Thou resistest him who counseleth righteousness;
Thou art hard in understanding;
Thou swervest aside: but thou followest the guiding of him who deceiveth, who lieth, who defameth.
Thou walkest in the desire of thy soul;
Thou schemest after money;
But thou forgettest the darkness of the grave, and rememberest not what is there.
But if true happiness had looked upon thee, thy own look would not have led thee amiss;
Nor wouldest thou be saddened when the preaching wipeth away griefs.
Thou shalt weep blood, not tears, when thou perceivest that no company
Can protect thee in the Court of Assembling; no kinsman of mother or father.
It is as though I could see thee when thou goest down to the vault and divest deep;
When thy kinsmen have committed thee to a place narrower than a needle's eye.
There is the body stretched out that the worms may devour it,
Until the coffin-wood is bored through and the bones molder.
And afterward there is no escape from that review of souls:
Since Sirat is prepared; its bridge is stretched over the fire to every one who cometh thither.
And how many a guide shall go astray! and how many a great one shall be vile!
And how many a learned one shall slip and say, "The business surpasseth."
Therefore hasten, O simple one, to that by which the bitter is made sweet;
For thy life is now near to decay and thou hast not withdrawn thyself from blame.
And rely not on fortune though it be soft, though it be gay:
For so wilt thou be found like one deceived by a viper that spitteth venom.
And lower thyself from thy loftiness;
For death is meeting thee and reaching at thy collar;
And he is one who shrinketh not back when he hath purposed.
And avoid proud turning away of the cheek if fortune have prospered thee:
Bridle thy speech if it would run astray; for how happy is he who bridleth it!
And relieve the brother of sorrow, and believe him when he speaketh and mend thy ragged conduct; For he hath prospered who mendeth it.
And plume him whose plumage hath fallen in calamity great or small;
And sorrow not at the loss, and be not covetous in amassing.
And resist thy base nature, and accustom thy hand to liberality
And listen not to blame for it, and keep thy hand from hoarding
And make provision of good for thy soul, and leave that which will bring on ill,
And prepare the ship for thy journey, and dread the deep of the sea.
Thus have I given my precepts, friends, and shown as one who showeth clearly:
And happy the man who walketh by my doctrines and maketh them his example.
I have a real treat. Here is a beautiful poem, which Meshary Alafasy (a noted Quran reciter) has recited in a melodious voice (anshada). The poem is actually spliced from a very old Arabic text - the Maqamas* of Al-Hariri. You can listen to the poem here (Qaseda Zohdeya 01): http://www.islamise.co.uk/Nasheeds/Meshary_Rashed.htm
Edit: I have the nasheed saved myself, but now can't find the mp3 file online (a little hunting will do the trick, but I have no time at the moment). Also, the poem caesuras (line breaks) are not showing up; need to do some formatting (any suggestions on how to correctly copy-paste a table in Blogger?). I will fix them - much later :) Ye Olde Woman has worked long enough on this post; and is in fact taking a long spiritual hiatus (going on Umrah). Will trundle back in a month or less. :)
أيا مَن يدّعي الفَـهْـمْ الى كمْ يا أخا الوَهْـمْ
تُعبّي الـذّنْـبَ والـذمّ وتُخْطي الخَطأ الجَـمّ
أمَا بانَ لـكَ الـعـيْبْ أمَا أنْـذرَكَ الـشّـيبْ
وما في نُصحِـهِ ريْبْ ولا سمْعُكَ قـدْ صـمّ
أمَا نادَى بكَ الـمـوتْ أمَا أسْمَعَك الصّـوْتْ
أما تخشَى من الفَـوْتْ فتَحْـتـاطَ وتـهـتـمْ
فكمْ تسدَرُ في السهْـوْ وتختالُ من الـزهْـوْ
وتنْصَبُّ الى الـلّـهـوْ كأنّ الموتَ مـا عَـمّ
وحَـتّـام تَـجـافـيكْ وإبْـطـاءُ تـلافـيكْ
طِباعاً جمْعـتْ فـيكْ عُيوباً شمْلُها انْـضَـمّ
إذا أسخَطْـتَ مـوْلاكْ فَما تقْلَـقُ مـنْ ذاكْ
وإنْ أخفَقَ مسـعـاكْ تلظّيتَ مـنَ الـهـمّ
وإنْ لاحَ لكَ النّـقـشْ منَ الأصفَرِ تهـتَـشّ
وإن مرّ بك النّـعـشْ تغامَـمْـتَ ولا غـمّ
تُعاصي النّاصِحَ البَـرّ وتعْـتـاصُ وتَـزْوَرّ
وتنْقـادُ لـمَـنْ غَـرّ ومنْ مانَ ومـنْ نَـمّ
وتسعى في هَوى النّفسْ وتحْتالُ على الفَـلْـسْ
وتنسَى ظُلمةَ الرّمـسْ ولا تَـذكُـرُ مـا ثَـمّ
ولوْ لاحظَـكَ الـحـظّ لما طاحَ بكَ اللّـحْـظْ
ولا كُنتَ إذا الـوَعـظْ جَلا الأحزانَ تغْـتَـمّ
ستُذْري الدّمَ لا الدّمْـعْ إذا عايَنْتَ لا جـمْـعْ
يَقي في عَرصَةِ الجمعْ ولا خـالَ ولا عــمّ
كأني بـكَ تـنـحـطّ الى اللحْدِ وتـنْـغـطّ
وقد أسلمَك الـرّهـطْ الى أضيَقَ مـنْ سـمّ
هُناك الجسمُ مـمـدودْ ليستـأكِـلَـهُ الـدّودْ
الى أن ينخَرَ الـعـودْ ويُمسي العظمُ قـد رمّ
ومنْ بـعْـدُ فـلا بُـدّ منَ العرْضِ إذا اعتُـدّ
صِراطٌ جَـسْـرُهُ مُـدّ على النارِ لـمَـنْ أمّ
فكمْ من مُرشـدٍ ضـلّ ومـنْ ذي عِـزةٍ ذَلّ
وكم مـن عـالِـمٍ زلّ وقال الخطْبُ قد طـمّ
فبادِرْ أيّها الـغُـمْـرْ لِما يحْلو بـهِ الـمُـرّ
فقد كادَ يهي العُـمـرْ وما أقلعْـتَ عـن ذمّ
ولا ترْكَنْ الى الدهـرْ وإنْ لانَ وإن ســرّ
فتُلْفى كمـنْ اغـتَـرّ بأفعى تنفُـثُ الـسـمّ
وخفّضْ منْ تـراقـيكْ فإنّ المـوتَ لاقِـيكْ
وسارٍ فـي تـراقـيكْ وما ينـكُـلُ إنْ هـمّ
وجانِبْ صعَرَ الـخـدّ إذا ساعـدَكَ الـجـدّ
وزُمّ اللـفْـظَ إنْ نـدّ فَما أسـعَـدَ مَـنْ زمّ
ونفِّسْ عن أخي البـثّ وصـدّقْـهُ إذا نــثّ
ورُمّ العـمَـلَ الـرثّ فقد أفـلـحَ مَـنْ رمّ
ورِشْ مَن ريشُهُ انحصّ بما عمّ ومـا خـصّ
ولا تأسَ على النّقـصْ ولا تحرِصْ على اللَّمّ
وعادِ الخُلُـقَ الـرّذْلْ وعوّدْ كفّـكَ الـبـذْلْ
ولا تستمِـعِ الـعـذلْ ونزّهْها عنِ الـضـمّ
وزوّدْ نفسَكَ الـخـيرْ ودعْ ما يُعقِبُ الضّـيرْ
وهيّئ مركبَ الـسّـيرْ وخَفْ منْ لُـجّةِ الـيمّ
بِذا أُوصـيتُ يا صـاحْ وقد بُحتُ كمَـن بـاحْ
فطوبى لـفـتًـى راحْ بآدابـــيَ يأتَـــمّ
O thou who claimest understanding;
How long, O brother of delusion, wilt thou marshal sin and blame, and err exceeding error?
Is not the shame plain to thee?
Doth not hoariness warn thee? (and in its counsel there is no doubtfulness);
Nor hath thy hearing become deaf.
Is not Death calling thee? doth he not make thee hear his voice?
Dost thou not fear thy passing away, so as to be wary and anxious?
How long wilt thou be bewildered in carelessness, and walk proudly in vanity,
And go eagerly to diversion, as if death were not for all?
'Till when will last thy swerving, and thy delaying to mend habits that
Unite in thee vices whose every sort shall be collected in thee?
If thou anger thy Master thou art not disquieted at it;
But if thy scheme be bootless thou burnest with vexation.
If the graving of the yellow one gleam to thee thou art joyful;
But if the bier pass by thee thou feignest grief, and there is no grief.
Thou resistest him who counseleth righteousness;
Thou art hard in understanding;
Thou swervest aside: but thou followest the guiding of him who deceiveth, who lieth, who defameth.
Thou walkest in the desire of thy soul;
Thou schemest after money;
But thou forgettest the darkness of the grave, and rememberest not what is there.
But if true happiness had looked upon thee, thy own look would not have led thee amiss;
Nor wouldest thou be saddened when the preaching wipeth away griefs.
Thou shalt weep blood, not tears, when thou perceivest that no company
Can protect thee in the Court of Assembling; no kinsman of mother or father.
It is as though I could see thee when thou goest down to the vault and divest deep;
When thy kinsmen have committed thee to a place narrower than a needle's eye.
There is the body stretched out that the worms may devour it,
Until the coffin-wood is bored through and the bones molder.
And afterward there is no escape from that review of souls:
Since Sirat is prepared; its bridge is stretched over the fire to every one who cometh thither.
And how many a guide shall go astray! and how many a great one shall be vile!
And how many a learned one shall slip and say, "The business surpasseth."
Therefore hasten, O simple one, to that by which the bitter is made sweet;
For thy life is now near to decay and thou hast not withdrawn thyself from blame.
And rely not on fortune though it be soft, though it be gay:
For so wilt thou be found like one deceived by a viper that spitteth venom.
And lower thyself from thy loftiness;
For death is meeting thee and reaching at thy collar;
And he is one who shrinketh not back when he hath purposed.
And avoid proud turning away of the cheek if fortune have prospered thee:
Bridle thy speech if it would run astray; for how happy is he who bridleth it!
And relieve the brother of sorrow, and believe him when he speaketh and mend thy ragged conduct; For he hath prospered who mendeth it.
And plume him whose plumage hath fallen in calamity great or small;
And sorrow not at the loss, and be not covetous in amassing.
And resist thy base nature, and accustom thy hand to liberality
And listen not to blame for it, and keep thy hand from hoarding
And make provision of good for thy soul, and leave that which will bring on ill,
And prepare the ship for thy journey, and dread the deep of the sea.
Thus have I given my precepts, friends, and shown as one who showeth clearly:
And happy the man who walketh by my doctrines and maketh them his example.
The Arabic text is from the complete Maqamat, from Maktabat Mishkat, available from tafsir.org
The English translation is from Charles F. Horne, ed., The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, (New York: Parke, Austin, & Lipscomb, 1917), Vol. VI: Medieval Arabia, pp. 143-201 -- part of the Internet Medieval Sourcebook, available from Fordham University: Medieval Sourcebook: AL-Hariri of Basra, The Maqamat
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*The Maqama is a genre first introduced by "Badi-az-Zamaan" ("The Wonder of his Age") Al-Hamadhani; these were a series of isolated tales in which a witty, unscrupulous rogue would wander from place to place, supporting his living by demonstrating his powers of improvisation and rhetoric to an invariably admirous audience (similar to a picaresque narrative). The other main character was a rawi, or narrator, continually meeting him and thus relating his adventures and literary compositions. Al-Hamadhani called these tales the Maqamat (“Assemblies”) because the Improvisor would always make his appearance among a company of strangers, one of whom was the narrator, and impress them with his poetic skill. Each Maqama forms an independent whole, and the tales themselves are secondary to the rhetoric and literary embellishments. Hariri is considered the master of the genre, having produced a highly ornate, linguistically intricate work encompassing almost every aspect of Arabic literature. This poem is from the Maqama Sawiyyah, the 11th Maqama.
Some References:
1. Chenery, Thomas. Assemblies of Al-Hariri, Vol. I. London:Williams and Norgate 1867
2. Nicholson, Reynold A. A Literary History of the Arabs. London: T. Fisher Unwin. 1907
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