Elegy of Malik ibn Ar-Rayb

Elegy (rithāʾiyyah) of Malik ibn Ar-Rayb, a Baudouin from Najd in the northeast of the Arabian Peninsula who lived in the first hijri century (21-57). He is from the tribe of Tamim, Banu Mazin. Spending most of his life as a notorious bandit, he was guided by Allah to the right path and convinced by the son of the late caliph Uthman, Said bn. Othman, to perform Jihad in the land of Khorasan. Returning from his adventure in the east, Malik ibn Ar-Rayb is struck with an illness that reportedly emerged during his stay in Khorasan. Alone at his deathbed in a desolate valley, he laments the grief he bears for his loneliness and the affliction of death.

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Poem and Translation

ألاَ لَيتَ شِعرِي هَـلْ أبيتَنّ ليلةً .... بجَنبِ الغَضَا ، أُزجي القِلاص النّواجِيا
فَلَيتَ الغَضَا لم يقطَعِ الركبُ عَرضَهُ .... وليـتَ الغَضَا مَاشىَ الـركابَ لَياليِا
لقد كان في أهل الغضا، لو دنا الغضا .... مـزارٌ، ولكـنّ الغضـا ليْسَ دانيا
أَلمْ تَـرَني بِـعتُ الضّـلالةَ بالهُـدى .... وَأَصْبَحْتُ فـي جيشِ ابنِ عفّان غازيا

Woe to my poem, am I going to spend this night
beside the Ghada (tree), warding off the rising water

If only the caravans would not truncate valued parts of Al-Ghada
Woe to Al-Ghada aside whom the caravans pass at nights

There had been among the people of Al-Ghada, had it but lowered,
a shrine, but Al-Ghada is not lowering

Have you not seen that I sold delusion in exchange of guidance
and became a soldier in the army of Ibn Affan

دَعاني الهَوى من أهل وُدّي وصُحبتي .... بِـذِي الطَّبَسَـين ، فالتفـتُّ وَرَائِيا
أَجَبْـتُ الهَـوَى لَمّا دَعَاني بِـزَفْرَةٍ .... تَقَنّعْـتُ مِنْـهَا ، أن أُلامَ ، ردائيـا
لَعَمْري لئـن غالتْ خُراسانُ هامَتي .... لقـد كُنْـتُ عن بابَيْ خراسان نائيا
فللّـه درّي يَـوْمَ أَتْـرُكُ طـائعاً .... بَنـيَّ بأَعْلـى الـرّقمَتَيـْنِ، وماليا

The desire called from the people of my love and company
at Dhittabasayn, so I looked behind me

I responded to the desire, when it called me, with a sigh
I covered my face off it with my upper garment, to be admonished

By my life, if Khorasan has struck my head
I (had ought to) have stayed away from the doors of Khorasan

May Allah increase my deeds the day I depart obediently...
my sons, on the highest of the two valleys, and my wealth

ودَرُّ الظّبـاءِ السّـانِحـاتِ عَشِيّةً .... يُخَبّـرْنَ أنـي هالِكٌ مِن وَرَائِيا
وَدَرُّ كَبيـرَيَّ اللّـذين كِـلاهُمَا .... عَلـيّ شَفيـقٌ ، ناصِحٌ ، قد نَهانِيا
وَدرُّ الهَوَى من حَيْثُ يدعو صِحَابَهُ .... وَدَرُّ لَجـاجـاتي ، ودَرُّ انتِهـائيا
تَذَكّرْتُ من يَبْكي عليّ ، فلمْ أَجِدْ .... سِوَى السَيْفِ والرّمحِ الرُّدَينيِّ باكيا
وَأَشْقَـرَ خِنْـذِيذٍ يَـجُرّ عِنـَانَهُ .... إلى الماء، لم يتْـرُكْ لَهُ الدهْـرُ ساقيا

And may the favourable gazelles be blessed at midnight
who behind me notify that I pass away

And may my two great ones be blessed who are both
sublime towards me, advising and forbidding me (of evil)

And the desire therefrom that it calls its people
And my obstinacy and my end

I remembered who will cry over me and I did not find
anyone besides the sword and the Rudeni spear crying

And the most warmhearted orator steering his horse
to water, yet nature has not left him any waterer

ولَكِـنْ بِأَطْـرَافِ السُّمَيْنَة نِسْـوَةٌ .... عَـزيزٌ عَلَيْهِـنّ العـشيّةَ ما بيا
صَـرِيعٌ على أيْدِي الـرّجَالِ بِقَفْرَةٍ .... يُسَـوُّوْنَ قَبْـري، حَيْثُ حُمَّ قضائيا
وَلَمّـا تَـرَاءَتْ عِنْـدَ مَـرْوٍ مَنيّتي .... وَحَـلَّ بِهَا جِسْـمي، وَحَانَتْ وَفَاتِيا
أَقـولُ لأصْـحابي ارْفعـوني لأنّني .... يَقِـرّ بِعَيْـني أن سهَيـلٌ بَـدَا لِيا

Yet at the edges of As-Sumayna there are (some) women
who are touched at eve for what happened to me

Knocked down by the hands of men in a wasteland,
they are evening my grave where my conclusion (death) had heated up

And when my death became visible at Marw
and it entered thereby my body, and my time to pass away came

I say to my companions, "raise me for it has occurred
to my eyes that Suhayl (southern star) appeared to me"

فيا صاحبَي رحلي! دنا المَوْتُ، فَانزلا .... بـِرابِيَـةٍ ، إنّـي مُـقِيـمٌ لَيـاليِا
أَقيما عليّ اليَوْمَ ، أو بَعْـضَ ليلةٍ .... ولا تُعْجِـلاني قـد تبيّـنَ ما بِيا
وَقُوما ، إذا ما استُلّ روحي ، فهيِّئا .... ليَ القـبرَ والأكفـانَ، ثُمّ ابكيا ليا
وخُطّا بأطْـرَافِ الأسِنّةِ مضجعي .... ورُدّا علـى عَيْنَـيَّ فضـلَ ردائيا
ولا تحسُـداني ، باركَ اللَّهُ فيكما .... من الأرْضِ ذَاتِ العَرضِ أن توسِعا ليا
خُـذَاني ، فجُـرّاني بِبُرديْ إليكما .... فقـد كُنْتُ ، قبل اليوم ، صَعباً قِياديا

Oh my two journey companions, death has lowered upon me, so descend
upon the hill where I am spending my nights

Stay for me for a day or for some nights
and do not hasten (to leave), for that which has struck me has become apparent

And rise up, when my soul is unsheathed, and prepare
for me the grave and shroud, then cry for me

And outline, with the edges of teeth, my bed
And close my eyes with the excess of my shroud

Do not deprive me, may Allah bless you,
of the wide earth, rather extend it for me

Take me and pull me towards you
for I had been, before this day, an arduous commandant

فقد كنتُ عطَّافاً، إذا الخيلُ أدْبَرَتْ .... سَـريعاً لـدى الهَيْجا، إلى مَن دعانِيا
وقد كُنْتُ محموداً لدى الزّاد والقِرَى .... وعـنْ شَتْـمِ ابن العَمّ وَالجارِ وانِيا
وَقد كُنْتُ صَبّاراً على القِرْن في الوَغى .... ثَقِيـلاً على الأعـداء، عَضْباً لسانيا
وَطَوْراً تراني فـي ظِلالٍ وَمَجْمعٍ .... وَطَـوْراً تَـراني ، والعِتَـاقُ ركابيا
وَقُوما علـى بِئْرِ الشُّبَيكِ ، فأسمِعا ..... بها الوَحْشَ والبِيضَ الحسانَ الروانيا
بِأَنَّكُمـا خَلَّفْتُمَـانـي بِقَفـْرَةٍ .... تُهيـلُ علـيّ الـرّيحُ فيها السَّوافيا

I used to be affectionate when the horse had run away
hastening in the battlefield towards anyone who called me

I used to be a praised concerning journey food and offerings
and distant from the insulting of cousins and neighbours

And I used to be overly patient against the rival at battle
hard upon the enemies, abandoning my tongue

At one point you see me under a shadow and in a gathering
at another point you see me riding timeworn mounts

Stand at the well of Ash-Shubayk and make it hear
the wilderness  and the pristine sharp sword

As you have left me behind in a wasteland
the wind is blowing upon me there diseases leading to my death

ولا تَنْسَيا عَهْدي ، خَليليّ ، إنّني .... تقطَّع وصـالي وَتَـبْلـى عِظـامِيَـا
فلنْ يَعْـَدم الـوالون بيتاً يَجُنُّني .... وَلَـنْ يَعْـدَمَ المـيراثَ منّي الموالِيا
يقولون :لا تَبعُدْ ، وهُم يدفِنونني .... وأيْـنَ مَـكانُ البُعْـدِ إلاّ مَـكانِيا؟
غَدَاةَ غَدٍ، يا لَهْفَ نَفْسي على غدٍ .... إذا أَدْلجـوا عـني ، وخُلّفتُ ثاويا
وَأَصْبَحَ مالي ، من طَريفٍ ، وتالدٍ .... لِغَيْـري وكان المالُ بالأمـسِ ماليا

Do not forget my times, my two friends, for
my reunion has been interrupted and my bones worn out

The allied will not be refused a house that drives me mad
nor will the (non-Arab) adherents be refused inheritance

They say do not go away while they are burying me
And where is the place of distance if that's not mine?

Dawn of tomorrow, what joy for myself in the morrow!
When they set out and I am left a dweller

ِAnd my wealth has went to those who newly acquired or inherited it
other than myself, whereas the wealth was mine yesterday

فيا ليْتَ شعري، هل تغيّرَتِ الرَّحى .... رحى الحْرب،أو أضْحت بفَلج كماهيا
إذا القـْومُ حلّـوها جميعاً، وأَنْزَلوا .... لها بَقـراً حُـمَّ العيـونِ، سواجِيا
وَعِـينٌ وَقَـدْ كان الظّلامُ يَجُنّها .... يَسُفْنَ الخُـزامي نَورَها والأقاحيا
وَهَلْ تَرَكَ العيسُ المَرَاقيلُ بالضّحى .... تَعَالِيَهَـا تَعلـو المُتـونَ الفيَافِيَا
إذا عَصِـبَ الـرُّكْبَانُ بَيْنَ عُنيزةٍ .... وبُولانَ ، عاجُـوا المُنْقِياتِ المَهَاريا

Woe to my poem, has the quern changed?
The quern of war, or has it suffered a fissure just as it does

When the people occupy it and carry down
some water with the fibre of their eyes, calmly

And a hill which used to be obscured by the darkness
The Khuzami carries away its blossoms and daisies

Have the white-brown, fast cruiser camels left at morning
its heights, ascending over the vast high deserts

When the travellers gather around ʿUnayzah
and Būlān, they pass by the quick, pure camels

. كمـا كُنْـتُ لَوْ عَالَوا نَعِيَّكَ باكيا ويا لَيْتَ شعري هل بَكَتْ أُمُّ مالكٍ ...
إذا مُتُّ فاعْتَادي القُبُورَ ، وسلّمي .... على الرَّيمِ ، أُسقيتِ الغَمامَ الغَواديا
تَرَيْ جَدَثاً قد جَرّتِ الرّيحُ فوقَه .... غُبـارًا كلـونِ القسْطَـلانيّ هَابِيا
رَهِينـة أَحْجَـارٍ وتُرْبٍ تَضَمّنَتْ .... قَـرارَتُها منّـي العِظَـامَ البَوالِيا

And woe to my poem, has the mother of Malik wailed?
Just as I would have been crying if they had brought your death news

When I die, prepare the graves and greet
upon the grave, irrigate it with rain water

You see a tomb the wind has carried thereupon
dust, coloured like the dust of war and sharp

Resting place of stones and clay
its deep stature has enclosed great plights of me

فيـا راكِباً إمّا عَـرَضتَ فبلّغَنْ .... بني مالكٍ والـرَّيْبِ أنْ لا تـلاقِيا
وَبَلّغ أخي عِمران بُردي وَمِئزَري .... وبلّغ عَجُوزي اليومَ أن لا تـدانيا
وَسَلّمْ على شيخيّ مِنيّ كِلَيْهِما .... وبلِّغ كَثـيراً وابْنَ عمّـي وخَاليا
وعطِّل قَلوصي في الرِّكاب، فإنّها .... ستُـبرِدُ أكباداً وتُبكـي بَواكِيا

O driver if you happen to pass (by me) then notify
(the tribe of) Bani Malik and Ar-Rayb that there is no encounter

And reach to my brother Imran my cloth and gown
and tell my old mother that she shall not be weakened

Greet my two elders
and notify much and my cousin and uncle

And dismiss my young she-camel of further journeys, for she will
convey great sorrow and make wailers cry

أُقَلِّبُ طَرْفي فَوْقَ رَحْلي، فلا أرَى .... بِهِ مـن عُيُونِ المُؤْنِساتِ مراعِيا
وبالرَّملِ منّي نِسْـوَةٌ لـو شَهِدنَني .... بَكَيْنَ وَفَـدّيْنَ الطّـبيبَ المُداويا
فمِنْهـُنّ أُمّـي، وابْنتاها، وخالتي .... وباكِيَةٌ أُخـرى تَهِيـجُ البَواكِيا
وما كانَ عَهْـدُ الرّمْل منّي وأهلِه .... ذميمًا ، ولا بالـرّمْل ودّعْتُ قَاليا

I turn my glances around my deathbed and do not see
any compassionate watching eyes

Far away from me are women; if they had seen me
they would cry and plead the treating doctor

Among them is my mother, and her two daughters and my aunt
and another crier (his wife) agitating the crying (people)

The time of Raml (song) of mine and his family was not
condemned, nor did I bid farewell leaving with Raml