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65 65 Nature Poetry: Two Epigrams by Ibn Khafājah Ibn Khafājah (450/1058–533/1139), who lived in the province of Valencia in al-Andalus, was famous for his nature poetry, in which he often personifies or humanizes nature. I. Hail ُ ‫ب‬ �‫ئ‬��‫ص�ا‬� � ‫ر‬ ّ ‫د‬��‫ح‬ � ‫ت‬ � ٌ ‫د‬ َ ‫ر‬ َ ‫�ب‬ ‫ى‬ � �‫ر‬ َّ‫ث‬ ��‫ل‬� � ‫ا‬ ِ ‫ر‬‫ح‬ � ‫ن‬ � ‫ه‬�‫ب‬ �� ‫ى‬ � ّ ‫ل‬��‫ح‬ � ‫م�د‬�‫�ج�ا‬ � ٍ ‫ر‬‫ط‬ �� � ‫�ق‬ � � ّ ‫ب‬ �‫ر‬ ‫�ا‬ ‫ي‬ �� ُ ‫ب‬ �‫ئ‬��‫ا‬ ‫�ذ‬ ٌ ‫ب‬ �‫ا‬ ‫�ذ‬ �‫ع‬ � ‫ه‬�‫ب‬ �� َ ‫د‬‫ا‬� ‫ل‬�‫ب‬ �‫ل‬� � ‫ا‬ ‫ى‬ � ‫ش‬ ��� ‫�غ‬ � ‫م�د‬�‫�ج�ا‬ � ٌ ‫ء‬‫�ا‬‫م‬� ‫ه‬�‫ن‬ �‫م‬� َ ‫ح‬ � ‫ط‬ �� �‫ب�ا‬ �� ‫أ‬� � ‫ل‬ � � ‫ا‬ ‫ب‬ � َ ‫�ص‬ � َ ‫ح‬ � yā rubba qaṭrin jāmidin ḥallā bihī naḥra th-tharā baradun taḥaddara ṣāʾibū ḥaṣaba l-abāṭiḥa minhu māʾun jāmidun ghashā l-bilāda bihī ʿadhābun dhāʾibū223 Meter (al-kāmil): SSLSL SSLSL SSLSL / SSLSL SSLSL SSLSL (SS may be replaced by L). With solid drops224 the hail that showered down has oft adorned the neck of Mother Earth. The frozen water pelts the plains with pebbles and the land is covered by a melting punishment. The earth is laughing, flaunting necklaces of stars, but strewn, unstrung; the sky is sullen, glowering: As if the earth, beneath, were an adulteress and pelting clouds were busy stoning it. 66 66 66 66 Verse II. A River ِ ‫ء‬‫ن�ا‬ � ْ ‫��س‬‫ح‬ � ‫ل‬�� ‫ا‬ ‫ى‬ � َ ‫م‬ َ ‫ل‬ �� ‫ن‬ �‫م‬� ‫ا‬‫د‬‫و‬��‫ور‬�� ‫ى‬ � ‫ه‬ � ‫ش‬ ��� ‫أ‬ � ِ ‫ء‬‫�ا‬‫ح‬ � ْ ‫ط‬ �� �‫�ب‬� ‫ي‬ � � ‫�ف‬ � � ‫ل‬� � ‫س�ا‬�� ٌ ‫ر‬‫ه‬ � ‫ن‬ �� ‫ه‬‫لل‬ ِ ‫ء‬‫�ا‬‫�م‬‫س‬�� ُ ّ ‫ر‬ ‫ج‬ � � ‫م‬� ‫ه‬�‫�ف‬� ‫ن‬ �‫ك‬ � � �‫ي‬ � ُ ‫ر‬‫ه‬�‫�ز‬‫ل‬� � ‫ا‬‫و‬�� ‫ه‬�‫ن‬�� ‫أ‬ ��‫ك‬ � �� ‫ر‬‫ا‬‫و‬�‫س‬��‫ل‬� � ‫ا‬ ‫ل‬�‫ث‬ ��‫م‬� ‫ف‬ ��‫ط‬ �� � ‫ع‬ �‫ت‬ �‫م‬� lillāhi nahrun sāla fī baṭḥāʾī ʾashhā wurūdan min lamā l-ḥasnāʾī mutaʿaṭṭifun mithla s-siwāri ka-ʾannahū waz-zahru yaknufuhū majarru samāʾī225 Meter (al-kāmil): SSLSL SSLSL SSLSL / SSLSL SSLSL LLSL (SS may be replaced by L). Ah God, what a river! It flows in the valley, a watering place lovelier than a girl’s crimson lips, As it bends like a bracelet; flanked by flowers it resembles the Milky Way. So delicate that one would think it a ribbon226 of silver, set in a mantle of green. It is bordered by branches like eyelashes round a blue eye. So oft have I drunk there a yellowish wine that would dye drinkers’ hands227 As the wind plays with twigs, and the afternoon’s gold moves along on the silvery water. ...


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