hfrom Ibn al-`Arabi, Turjuman selections, translated by Michael Sells

Poems #32-37
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translated 25 December 2003

Fifty Years Hard Thinking (32)

Brought back to the prime of my life and youth
by words spoken between Karkh and Haditha

I said to myself after fifty years hard thinking
I've become like a fledgling, featherless bird.

They brought me back to the to the folds of Splitrock and Hajir,
back to the prime of my life and youth

When I led camels upland to Najd and down to Tihama
and lit a fire for her from flintwood and leptadaria.

In a Tangle with Sorrows of Every Kind (33)

I answer back the voice on a branch
in a tangle with sorrows of every kind

She mourns her mate tearlessly.
Tears well and flow down my eyes.

I ask as my drowning eyes reveal
the wreckage of my mind what news

Do you have of the one I love? Are they
Sheltered midday in the branches' shade?

Lie Mangled in the Dust (34)

At the sand slipped hillside
near the mountain of Zarud
lions and other beasts of prey
touched by glances of pretty women

Lie torn in the dust, they
skilled survivors of death's roar!
but what are lions before
the beauty of dark eyes?

Their gaze left them
dead on the field of battle,
Sweet is the gaze
from the daughters of kings.

I'm Here for You Now (35)

Three full moons in
need of no adorning
appeared over Tan`im
with veiled faces

They lowered their veils
luminous as the sun
chanting Here for you!
at the pilgrim stations

They moved with a
light gait, softly,
like sand grouse dressed
in gowns of patterned color.

Quenched by the Rains Graciously Pouring (36)

Moist earth
of the highlands
how blessed you are
quenched by rains graciously pouring

He greets you again--long life greetings--
He who has greeted you
for fifty years, returning again
and again beginning.

I have cut through wastelands
and empty regions
on a great-humped camel mare
and a worn dromedary

Until the evening path of the lightning
flashing toward Tamarisk
turned my enraptured trance
to frenzy.

Down to the Waters at the Tents of the Twisting Sands (37)

My two friends, pass by al-Hima in search of Najd
and the waymark there.

Come down to the waters at the tents of the twisting sands
down to the shade of the lote tree and absinthe.

If you come to the desert valley of Mina you've come
to the place my heart is held.

To those who have made their encampment there
bring greetings from one who misses them dearly.

When they greet you in return, tell
of a man with a heart broken's longing.

Tell of him what you know, ask
about him, and never cease to inquire.