ترجمة قصيدة غذوتك مولودا وعلتك يافعا - أمية بن أبي الصلت

[ahmed_allaithy]

غَذوَتُكَ مولوداً وَعُلتُكَ يافِعاً

تُعَلُّ بِما أُحنيَ عَلَيكَ وَتَنهلُ

إِذا لَيلَةٌ نابَتكَ بِالشَكو لَم

أَبِت لِشَكواكَ إِلّا ساهِراً أَتَمَلمَلُ

كَأَني أَنا المَطروقُ دونَكَ بِالَذي

طُرِقَت بِهِ دوني فَعَينايَ تَهمُلُ

تَخافُ الرَدى نَفسي عَلَيكَ وَإِنَني

لَأَعلَمُ أَنَ المَوتَ حَتمٌ مُؤَجَّلُ

فَلَمّا بَلَغَت السِّنَ وَالغايَةَ الَّتي

إِليها مَدى ما كُنتُ فيكَ أُؤَمِلُ

جَعَلتَ جَزائي غِلظَةً وَفَظاظَةً

كَأَنَكَ أَنتَ المُنعِمُ المُتَفَضِلُ

فَلَيتَكَ إِذ لَم تَرعَ حَقَّ أُبوَتي

فَعَلتَ كَما الجارُ المُجاورُ يَفعَلُ

زَعَمتَ بِأَنّي قَد كَبِرتُ وَعِبتَني

لَم يَمضِ لي في السِنُ سِتونَ كُمَّلُ

وَسَمَيتَني باِسِمِ المُفَنَّدِ رَأيُهُ

وَفي رَأيِكَ التَفنيدُ لَو كُنتَ تَعقِلُ

تُراقِبُ مِني عَثرَةَ أَو تَنالَها

هَبِلتَ وَهذا مِنكَ رَأيٌ مُضَلَلُ

وَإِنَكَ إِذ تُبقي لِجامي موائِلاً

بِرَأيِكَ شابّاً مَرَةً لَمُغَفَّلُ

وَما صَولَةُ الحِقِّ الضَئيلُ وَخَطرُهُ

إِذا خَطَرتَ يَوماً قَساورُ بُزَّلُ

تَراهُ مُعِدّاً لِلخِلافِ كَأَنَهُ

بِرَدٍّ عَلى أَهلِ الصَوابِ مُوَكَلُ

وَلَكِنَّ مَن لا يَلقَ أَمراً يَنوبُهُ

بِعُدَّتِهِ يَنزِل بِهِ وَهو أَعزَلُ

I raised you as a child and took care of you as a youth,
You were fed by what I bent over you and you drew from it.
When a night came upon you with complaints,
I would not sleep except staying up, restless.
As if I were the one struck by what had struck you,
And my eyes would overflow with tears.
My soul fears for your demise, even though I know that death is an inevitable decree.
When you reached the age and goal To which I had long aspired for you,
You repaid me with harshness and cruelty,
As if you were the benefactor and gracious one.
I wish that if you did not honor the right of my fatherhood,
You would have acted as a neighboring neighbor does.
You claimed that I have aged and criticized me,
Even though I have not yet completed sixty full years.
You called me by the name of the misguided one,
While it is in your opinion that there is misguidance if you were to understand.
You observe and seize upon any of my slips,
Foolish are you, and this is a misguided opinion.
If you think to keep my reins yielding
With your opinion while considering me youthful, you are indeed naive.
What is the power of the weak right and its danger
If the mighty heroes once stood against you? You see him ready for opposition as if
He is entrusted with replying to the people of truth.
But he who does not face any trial with his readiness
Will fall into it unprepared.

[ahmed_allaithy]

ترجمة القصيدة شعرًا:

I nurtured thee as tender babe in arms,
And cared for thee through youth with all my charms.
Thou drew’st from me, as I did bend o'er thee,
Feeding thy needs from my own bounty free.

When night's dark hand didst bring thee fret and pain,
I sleepless lay, and restless did remain.
As if thy woes were mine, they struck me sore,
My eyes o'erflowed with tears forevermore.

My soul, in fear, for thy demise did quake,
Though death's sure call no mortal can forsake.
When thou didst reach the age I'd hoped to see,
Thou paid’st me with unkindness and with glee.

Thou harshly dealt with me, and cruelty shown,
As if thou were the giver, kind and known.
If thou couldst not my father's right uphold,
Thou might'st have been a neighbor, kind and bold.

Thou claimed that I had aged, and me didst scorn,
Though sixty years have not yet fully borne.
Thou called’st me misguided, lost in thought,
Yet in thy mind, ‘tis wisdom dearly sought.

Thou watch'st for slips in me, to find me flawed,
But in thy judgment, folly is thy guard.
If thou dost think to rule me with thy youth,
Thou art indeed naive, and far from truth.

What might hath right, when weak and frail it stands,
Against the mighty heroes’ daunting bands?
Thou seest him, prepared for clash and fight,
As if entrusted with defending right.

Yet he who faces trials unprepared,
Shall find himself unarmed, and ill-despaired.

[ahmed_allaithy]

محاولة ترجمية أخرى

I raised thee, child, in tender care and love,
And nurtured thee as youth, my blessings strove.
Bent over thee, my bounty thou didst take,
From my own toil, thy sustenance to make.

When night would bring thee troubles, fears, and plight,
I stayed awake, and watched o'er thee all night.
As if thy pains were mine, they pierced my soul,
And tears like rivers from mine eyes did roll.

My heart, in dread, for thy dear life did fear,
Though death's decree for all must needs be near.
When thou didst reach the height I longed to see,
Thou paid'st me back with harshness, cruelty.

As if thou were the gracious one, and kind,
Forgetting all the love I'd left behind.
If thou couldst not my father's right revere,
A neighbor's kindness thou might'st have drawn near.

Thou saidst I've aged and cast me with disdain,
Though sixty years have not yet fully lain.
Thou calledst me misguided in thy scorn,
Yet wisdom in thy youth should be reborn.

Thou watchest for my slips with eager eyes,
But folly in thy judgment truly lies.
If thou dost think to rule with youthful might,
Thou art indeed naive, and far from right.

What power hath the weak when mighty stand,
Against the heroes brave with strength at hand?
Thou seest him ready for the truth's defense,
As if to guard the right with diligence.

But he who faces trials unprepared,
Shall fall, unarmed, and find his soul ensnared.

[ahmed_allaithy]

محاولة ترجمية شعرية ثالثة:

I nurtured thee, a tender bud, to bloom,
Through youthful days, dispelling every gloom.
Bent low, I fed thee from my very soul,
With love and care, to make thee whole.

When night didst bring its shade of dark despair,
I watched o’er thee, with vigil and with prayer.
As if thy pain didst pierce my very heart,
And tears, like streams, from wearied eyes did start.

My soul did tremble for thy fleeting breath,
Though knowing well the certainty of death.
Yet when thou reached the summit of my dreams,
Thou turned to me with harsh and cruel schemes.

Thou repaidst my love with cold disdain,
As if thy kindness alone did reign.
Oh, if thou couldst not honor father’s name,
At least as neighbor, show a kinder flame.

Thou didst declare my age with scornful eyes,
Though years yet sixty have not fully flown by.
Thou calledst me misguided in thy jest,
While wisdom in thy youth should be addressed.

Thou watched for every fault with eager sight,
But in thy judgment, folly took its flight.
If thou dost think to guide with youthful zeal,
Thou art indeed naive, thy thoughts unreal.

What strength hath right when weak and frail it stands,
Against the might of strong and fearless hands?
Thou seest him ready, truth to uphold,
As if his duty were a story told.

He who unprepared to trials is led,
Shall fall defenseless, in fate's cruel web spread.