وَزْن Wazn
أَماوِيُّ قَد طالَ التَجَنُّبُ وَالهَجرُ
O Mawiyya, long have been the estrangement and desertionذكاء اصطناعي AI
افتح في القارئ Open in reader →الخلاصة Summary
هذا النص بالإنجليزية فقط — لا تتوفر لدينا نسخة عربية منه.
This famous poem captures the uncompromising generosity and noble ethos of Hatim al-Tai, addressed to his wife Mawiyya. Responding to domestic friction or reproach over his lavish giving, the poet defends a life of absolute munificence where wealth is held only to be scattered. Drawn from the legendary tests of his courtship—where he gave away everything he owned to a disguised beggar—the verses trace a lifetime of open-handedness, confronting poverty and mortality without regret.
الخلاصة مُولّدة بالذكاء الاصطناعي وقد تخطئ This summary is AI-generated and may contain mistakes.
السياق The story
قصد امرأة يمنية ذات جمال وحسب لتتزوج أحدهم كلٌّ من زيد الخيل وحاتم الطائي وأوس بن حارثة. فختبرت كرمهم بأن بعثت سائلة إليهم؛ فأعطاها زيد وأوس بعض ما عندهم، بينما أطاها حاتم كل ما عنده. ثم طلبت منهم وصف أنفسهم بالشعر، فأنشد كل واحد منهم، وفي النهاية اختارت حاتماً وتزوجته لرجاحة منطقه وكرم أخلاقه.
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
O Mawiyya, long has been the estrangement and desertion, and time has already excused me from seeking you out.
O Mawiyya, wealth is ever coming and going, but what remains of wealth are tales and memory.
O Mawiyya, I never say to a petitioner who comes one day and settles in our wealth that the portion is meager.
O Mawiyya, either there is a refusal made plain, or a gift that no amount of scolding can hold back.
O Mawiyya, what does riches avail a youth when the soul rattles in the throat and the chest grows tight?
When those I love lower me down into a hollow grave, its sides slippery and dust-covered,
And they hurry away, shaking their palms, saying, 'The digging has stained our fingertips with blood.'
O Mawiyya, even if my echo should find itself in a desolate wasteland where there is neither water nor wine,
You would see that all I squandered did me no harm, and that my hands from what I withheld are completely empty.
O Mawiyya, how many an only son of a mother have I rescued, so that upon him falls neither slaughter nor captivity.
The tribes well know that had Hatim desired a surplus of wealth, abundance would have been his.
Indeed, I do not spend wealth on a deed save that its beginning is provision and its end is stored treasure.
With it the captive is freed and good food is eaten, untouched by the gambling arrows or wine.
I never wrong a cousin, even if my brothers were here to witness it, though time has swept away all my brothers.
We have busied ourselves for an age with poverty and riches, just as time brings its days of hardship and ease.
We have clothed the turns of fate in softness and severity, and time has made us drink from both of its cups.
Our wealth did not make us arrogant toward any relative, nor did poverty disgrace our noble standing.
Long ago I disobeyed those who blamed me, and my ten fingers were given absolute rule over my finest wealth.
And no neighbor is harmed, O daughter of the people, know this—who dwells near me goes without no cover.
My eyes remain blind to any oversight regarding my tribe's women, and my ears are deaf to any gossip about them.
الترجمات الإنجليزية مُولّدة بالذكاء الاصطناعي وقد تخطئ English translations are AI-generated and may contain mistakes.