ترجمة قصيدة بيت كلابها وحجاجها لــ : د. عمر هزاع
السلام عليكم
يشرفني ان أضع بين أيديكم ترجمتين لهذه القصيدة
الأولى للأخت إيمان حسيني
والثانية للدكتور : دنحا
وأنتظر تعليقاتكم
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أولاً :
القصيدة
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إنْ كانَ حَقَّاً مَا تَقُولُ وَ تَدَّعِي فَارْكَبْ مطَايَا المَوتِ في ( مِعْرَاجِها )
هَذي ( سَمَرْقَنْدٌ ) وَ تِلْكَ ( طُلَيطِلٌ ) صَرختْ تُنادي : وَيْكِ أُمَّةَ يَعْرُبٍ فتَحَشْرَجَتْ قِطَعُ الحُروفِ بِثَغرِها مَا لِلْعروبةِ - يَا عِراقُ - تَمَزَّقَتْ كُلُّ الأُسُودِ تَقَهْقَرَتْ حَتَّى عَوَى أَينَ الشَّرِيعةُ يَا بَنِيَّ ؟؟ لََقَدْ هَوَى وَ تَرَنَّحَتْ تَحتَ السَّنابِكِ دولةٌ وَ طَغَى الولاةُ فَمَا اسْتَقَرَّ بَلاطُهُمْ فإذا الأّميرُ تَنَازَعتْهُ ظُنُونُهُ فَتَحَلَّقَتْ مِنْ حَولِهِ أَعْوانُه حَجَّتْ إِلى مِحْرابِهِ وَ دَعَتْ لَهُ هَذا أَميرُكُمُ , وَ تاجُ رُؤُوسِكُمْ غَنُّوا لَهُ الأشعارَ طُراً إِنًّهُ وَ اسْقُوهُ مِن كَفِّ القِيَانِ قُهَيْوَةً قُولُوا لَهُ : ( أَمْنُ الرَّعيَّةِ قَائِمٌ تَسْري لَكُمْ بِالمَوتِ خَيْلُ خُصُومِكُمْ نَصلاتُهُمْ تَقْتَاتُ لَحْمَ أَميرِكُمْ سَلْ عَنْ سَرايا ( طَارِقٍ ) بَحرَاً هُنا سَلْ عَنْ جُيوش ( أُمَيَّةٍ ) فُتِحَتْ لَها سَلْ جَيشَ ( هَارون الرَّشيدِ ) بِفَتْحِهِ سَلْ عَنْ ( صَلاح الدِّينِ ) ثَأْرَ عُرُوبةٍ ما ضَاعَ مُلْكُ العُرْبِ إِلَّا بَعْدَما مَا ضَلَّ مَنْ سَارَتْ بِهِ أَقْدامُهُ اللهُ أَكبرُ يا عُروبةُ هَدِّمَتْ وَ تَشَرْذَمَتْ مِلَلٌ بِأَمْرِ ولاتِها فَلِكُلِّ طَائِفَةٌ إِمامٌ ( مُقْتَدَىً ) وَ سَوادُ شَعْبٍ كَالقَطِيْعِ وَ كَلْبُهُمْ وَ العَالمُ الغَربيُّ يَنْظُرُ نَحْوها قَدِمَتْ بَوارجُهُ تَعُومُ بِبَحرِها وَ الطائِراتُ مُحَلِّقاتٌ فَوقَها
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ثانياً - ترجمة الأخت إيمان
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Composed by : Dr. Omar Jalaleldin Hazza
If it is really true what you say
Mount the horses of death to Jerusalem way
This is Samarkand , and Toledo lies out there
And here is Carthage , embosoming glory remains
Outcrying : O! Arabs what a shame!
My wound by your remedy was set aflame
And letters rattled in her throat
and blood gushed from her vein
O Iraq …why the Arab body is torn apart
and in battles of disgrace its blood flowed ؟
The lions turned back in retreat
And the wolves hastened to devour its sheep
O my son, where is the law ???
Collapsed is the rule of justice from its lofty towers
Under horse hooves a state did sway
Drifting from justice, that was its way
Rulers lorded, and their thrones quivered
while Hajjaj’s tyranny was fully set out
Driven by his own whims
the Prince yelled: " I am the pharaoh of these towns
Accomplices hovered joyously around
False words to the Maharaja were made abound
Flocking to his shrine, praying for his health
In his hand placing their precious wealth
This is your prince wearing his crown
Donate him your silky gown
Sing him ballads praising for, he is
Delighting his ears by their echoes
Make him sip coffee from attendant hands
and beat your drums for his pleasure
Tell him subjects ' security is intact
Eyes sleepless on the lookout
Your foe horses with death march to you
And doom hovers over your own towns
Their blades slay thy prince's body
throwing him in your presence
Ask the sea about Tareq squadrons
Over the Mediterranean they sailed in turmoil
Ask about Omayyad armies , for which
Persia's gates though bolted , were opened
Ask Haroon El-Rasheed about his invasion
In which bolted gates for him, were demolished
Ask Salaheddin about Arab revenge
Making Egypt & Iraq yield subserviently
Arab rule got lost and taken
when the Prophet’s path was forsaken
Misled not is that who follows
The footsteps of our beloved Prophet
God is Greater , You nation of Arabs
destroying our glory with thy sectarian by- product
Into factions you have fallen to rulers' greed
Each fighting to prove the other's misdeed
Divisions and sects by greedy chiefs have been led
And brothers have turned to enemies at the end
Masses like sheep herds and their dog
barking aiming at their chicken
Western world beckoning at its
Slice seeking to bake it
Fleets roaming its seas
Gunfire around its barracks
And enemy planes hover over its skies
So, welcome to its Phantoms and its Mirages
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ثالثاً - ترجمة : د. دنحا
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Arabic version: Dr Omar Jalal el-din Hazza'
English translation: Prof. Dr Dinha T. Gorgis
Had you put thy words into deeds,
The road to Jerusalem would've been eased.
Behold Samarkand and Toledo out there!
Behold the remains of glory at Carthage!
Outcrying: Oh, the offspring of Arabia!
Rather than heal our wounds, you wounded more.
Letters, inarticulate, remain speechless;
And blood the veins turned colourless.
Oh, Iraq! Harmony at Home has been raped;
And Grace at battles deflowered.
All lions, so astounded that the wolves
At the lambs howled and howled.
Say I, my boy: Whereof hath Revelation gone?
Justice the throne has wickedly left;
And the State under hooves shamefully bent.
No ruling tyranny to survival is destined;
Not even Hajjaj's ill-reputed tyranny,
Driven by a Prince's blissful wishes and agony.
The Prince oft declares: "I'm the pharaoh of all",
Flatteringly all jesters joyfully get around,
And witted words for the Mahraja abound.
When flocking to his shrine,
Well-being prayers were done,
And precious gifts, placed in hand, was fun.
My goodness! This is your prince and crown:
Generously offer him a silky gown;
Sing him a ballad in praise;
For once delighted by rhyme & rhythm,
He'd be taken by amaze;
Pour him a sip of Arabian coffee,
And let your drums please his ears.
Tell him his subjects are safe and sound,
And all sleepless eyes are all around.
Wait for the galloping horses of death:
The foe's raids your Home demand,
The blades into the Prince's chest abound,
And witnesses thy be over his rotten flesh.
Why not ask Tariq's fleets,
Sailing the troubled Mediterranean?
Why not ask Ommayads' armies, whose drums
Persia's tough gates listened to their beats?
Why not ask Haroon Arrashid's conquest,
Which turned wide open those bolted gates?
Why not ask Saladdin's counter-attack,
Whose victory was hailed across Egypt & Iraq?
The Arab sovereignty away had died,
Only when rulers Ahmed's wisdom denied.
Recall that whoever followed the Prophet's suit,
Did find refuge and serenity in his pursuit.
How come, Oh, Arab nation?!
Factions, our heritage, meant to abolish;
Some are guided, but mislead, by chiefs,
While others turned into killers and thieves.
Every sect is but a slave to a master,
Whose gangs are but butchers of their tyrant.
And the helpless masses are no more than herds,
Whose lord, like a dog, devours their chicken.
The west watches the roasting scene of the masses,
Waiting for the dish to be served.
The smell, irresistible, led the barges into the sea,
Stationed gunfire around the fences,
And helped fuel the jets hovering in the sky.
Yeah! You have to welcome Phantoms & Mirages!
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مودتي
