Wanderings
I
هَفَتِ الوُرقُ بالرِّياضِ وناحَتْ
شَجْوُ هذا الحَمامِ مِمّا شَجَاني
Circled grey dove in the garden and cried;
The grief of this dove be from dolour of mine.
Ibn 'Arabi
In the waste where sands do flee,
As the crumbs in hourglass;
Leaving us just memory -
Traces leading to the past...
Thereat amid the sallow sand,
Lone forgotten tamarisk doth grow.
Listening to the wind, he spread
The branches, and the wind doth blow
And blast away faint and withered leaves -
They stream along the waste,
And fade and sink in desert seas.
O the dreamy lonesome tree,
Let me seat and rest in thy shade;
Let me listen to thy verdure's melody,
When eastern wind with thee doth play.
Tell me, where I should go?
Where rove, my thirst to slake..?
A loving stranger in the sea, as ye, alone.
Tree replied, "Grievest not, and hoist thy sail,
Follow Evros - eastern breeze
Fanning gently on this way...
Wend, proceed until you see
A blooming garden 'mid the flames."
This heap of fleeting sand in my hands
Through the fingers flows away...
Seagulls fly in the sky, cry and yell
So plaintively... again, and again...
A ringdove is singing songs
In the morn... And my drink is only rains,
And the lakes... Eastern wind is whispering words
On my ear, and I hear...
Hill of Winds and grovy dales -
Where passed my youth - they are to me so dear.
I asked the crescent at night, "Please say,
How long yet I should go?
How far to be the way?"
Crescent spake, "Till you behold
Me full in the lake of thy heart,
From then I shall never wane, nor depart."
Those traces along sandy hill
Scarcely seen, left by the caravan gone
To the East... Only old sycamore in the mist
Of melancholy, like ghost
Lost in the waste... Rolling sands
Flow and croon of oblivion song...
Alone in the desert, I follow their steps
Leading to... where? - I know it not.
Seems, it is God who installs the waystones
On my road... I called echo, echo replied,
I sighed, "Tell me the name of my bride,
Or maybe I'll be forever lonely and sad,
A hopeless romantic 'mid broken stones of regret."
Echo said, "Her name is an emerald wave,
But ere you meet,
Thou hast to prepare thy temple for me."
II
Blessed are ye when men shall reproach you,
and persecute you, and say all manner
of evil against you falsely, for my sake.
Matthew 5:11
The seas of sands, they listen, and the trees,
Clad in a gown of mystery, as apparitions, they
Bewitch the waste... expanse of sleep;
I plod along, after the song, not feeling pain
From dire wounds the tempest left -
She came from North, and poured upon me hail;
Then tossed me in the heath of beasts, away from men,
To die forgotten and defamed...
But God had heard my dying sigh,
And sent the angels - host of light.
He said to me, "Stand up and rise!
Go forth after the song you hear,
For dawn is near."
The night dissolved away, and rose
Sunflower bright upon the hill of red.
I see a rivulet 'mid alabaster stones,
The shine of morn the rays upon her shed.
O splattering rill, give me relief,
Let me to drink thy water and to quench
My ache... The rill replied, "Come in
And drink... Thy heart shall change,
Thy pain will pass, then pray to God,
And journey on..."
I reached the summit of the hill, upon it wall
With signs inscribed - the living glyphs,
And gate in it is low and latched on bolts;
Upon the wall a ringdove sings:
Stay here till advent of Spring,
When sun by jocund bird will soar,
And sing a song, and snow will thaw.
And rains and rills will fill the lake,
And moon get full and never wane.
But now be here, behold upon the glyphs
Day after day until they speak to thee,
Revealing their names - then say,
And greet each glyph by name; -
The door will open up and you can on your way.
Then signs in choir did proclaim,
"Thou should'st to drink us all as wine,
We should be thine..."
And gate then said, "You see
Me low, to pass through me thou hast to bow,
And gain new state in humility.
For if thou art so proud, -
Then here you shall remain waiting for another spring."
III
كُلُّ بَدرٍ إِذا تَناهَى كَمالاً
جاءَةُ نَقْصُهُ لِيَكمُلَ شَهرا
غَيْرَ هَذي، فما لَها حَرَكاتٌ
في بُرُوجٍ، فما تُشَفّعُ وِترَا
Every full moon when perfection doth reach,
Then comes her depletion - a month to complete.
But not in this case, no more she yet sails
Among Zodiacs, nor waxes her oneness.
Ibn 'Arabi
I crossed the waste, her sands I kissed, -
Its waves the pain appeased...
I see, the real commingled with a dream, -
I lost the difference between...
Behind me caw the crows, thus
Fortelling a farewell, they fly around
And yell, "Goodbye these sands
Of solitude, goodbye this waste..." And now
I am about to upsoar and fly
As a song, as a rhyme.
And yet, again I see this lonely tamarisk -
Verdant evermore - among the rocks
Of black... Upon him doves, they flit
Amid the leaves and warble joyful songs.
I greeted him and said, "Peace be to thee,
O tree of life! Praise be to Thee who veiled His light
And face behind this lonely blossom'd tree!"
He then replied, "Peace be to you, full moon of night,
Keep on thy journey, and uphold and raise
For me the broken fallen pillars, save
My vineyard - abandoned, trampled by
Them who besmear a wall with mud;
Take on this garment of the dark,
And veil thyself..."
Glory, and song be to God, The Most Kind,
Hallowed and blest is His Name.
Who in the sacred dimmness abide,
In His hand are the night and the day.
Two stars, two rivers, two dreams -
Thy wings are spread over me, -
Two spirits of light,
Together we drift on the sea;
Vladimir and Olga - two suns soaring high.
December 2016
Ibn'Arabi, The Interpreter of Desires
ترجمان الأشواق
Translation from Arabic
by Denis Bezmelnitsin
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