وَزْن Wazn
طَرقَ الخَيالُ وَلا كَلَيلَةِ مُدلِجِ
The Phantom Knocked by Night, Unlike the Night-Traveler's Exhausted Mountذكاء اصطناعي AI
افتح في القارئ Open in reader →الخلاصة Summary
هذا النص بالإنجليزية فقط — لا تتوفر لدينا نسخة عربية منه.
This pre-Islamic ode by al-Harith ibn Hilliza opens with the timeless desert convention of a phantom visitor by night, but quickly pivots into a rugged, intensely masculine display of bravado. The speaker transitions from the bitter pangs of separation and travel across harsh landscapes into a proud celebration of wine, falconry, relentless hunting, and the fierce courage of his tribe, the Bakr ibn Wa'il. Rather than remaining a conventional lament for a lost beloved, the poem becomes an assertion of vitality, generosity, and martial dominance in a hostile environment.
الخلاصة مُولّدة بالذكاء الاصطناعي وقد تخطئ This summary is AI-generated and may contain mistakes.
السياق The story
تضمنت القطعة وصف طروق خيال الحبيبة للشاعر وهو على سفر في البادية، تلا ذلك فخره بشربه الخمر وغدوه لصيد الظباء على فرسه مشبهاً إياه بالصقر، ثم فخره بشجاعته وشدة بأس قومه في الحروب، ووصفه لجدب المرعى في الشتاء وكرم قومه في بذل الألبان للضيف أو نحر الجزور وإطعام ذوي الحاجة.
المصدر: الموسوعة الشعرية — دائرة الثقافة والسياحة، أبوظبي Source: The Poetry Encyclopedia — Department of Culture and Tourism, Abu Dhabi
القصة مُستخلصة من المصدر بالذكاء الاصطناعي وقد تخطئ This story was extracted from the source by AI and may contain mistakes.
النص Poem text
The phantom knocked by night, as no weary night-traveler would knock, clinging persistently to our camel-saddles without pausing.
How did you find the way when you were not a traveler, while the people have already crossed the vast, level expanses of the desert?
The people have set out and their mounts are worn out, save for the swift she-camel hurrying the litter forward.
And dark wine that I tempered with more wine, and the gazelles of the thicket that I startled with a swift, slender mare.
So they are like pearls, and he is like a falcon swooping down upon a fledgling dove that has not yet walked.
A falcon that hunts with its talons and its wings, until it strikes a dove amidst the boxthorn bushes.
And if you ask when the battle-line holds back, and the terror of the foolish coward becomes apparent,
And you hear the crash of our swords upon their heads like the striking of a raincloud upon a lashed, covered tent.
And when the milch-camels return at evening with the running gait of ostriches toward the thicket's shelter,
You will find us the best household for the guest: if milk is lacking, then the hamstringing of the prime camel.
الترجمات الإنجليزية مُولّدة بالذكاء الاصطناعي وقد تخطئ English translations are AI-generated and may contain mistakes.