'Wine today but a different story tomorrow!' اليوم خمر وغدا أمر
Imruʾ al-Qais (501-544 CE)) was a pre-Islamic Mu'allaqat poet and was often referred to as the lost king because he could not recover the kingship of his father, the king of Kinda tribe. He was the youngest of his father's sons, and began composing poetry while he was still a child. His father strongly disapproved of this habit in his son, believing poetry to be an unseemly pastime for the son of a king. His father also disapproved of Imru' al-Qais' scandalous lifestyle of drinking and chasing women, and eventually banished him from his kingdom, as the legend tells. Later, when the tribe of Asad rebelled and assassinated his father, Imru' al-Qais was the only one of his brothers to take responsibility for avenging his death. Renouncing wine and women in his famous statement “Wine today but a different story tomorrow”, he fought the tribe of Asad until he had exacted revenge in blood. In vain, however, he spent the remainder of his life trying to regain his father's kingdom.
His last journey was to Constantinople to seek support from Emperor Justinian, the Byzantine emperor. After leaving Constantinople on his way back, Imru' al-Qais fell ill near the city of Ankara where he remained until he died (His tomb is still there and is being restored as a tourist attraction by the local authorities). One story tells us that, during his illness there, he witnessed a distinguished funeral from his place on Mount Aseeb. When he inquired about it, he was informed that it was the funeral of a princess who was exiled from Constantinople by the emperor. He reacted to this by composing the following celebrity lines:
O, princess neighbor! Our meeting in the Hereafter is near;
And I’m staying around so long as Mount Aseeb is here.
O, princess neighbor! Aliens we really are in this land;
And kinship does unite strangers wherever they strand.
أجارَتنـــــا إن المـــــــــزار قـريــبُ
وإنـي مقيـــم ما أقـــامَ عَســـيبُ
أجارَتنــــا إنّــا غريبـــــانِ هاهُنـــــا
وكـلُّ غريــــبٍ للغريــــب نســـيبُ
Following are two stanzas: the first illustrates how vivid and romantic Imru' al-Qais’s poetry is, while the second shows how troubled his life was:
Oh Fatima, withhold this coquettish charade;
If you intend to wound, let fairness be your blade.
You have captured my heart, a willing prey;
No matter your orders, my heart will obey.
I'm convinced your tears, in this artful display;
Aim to pierce my heart in love's intricate ballet.
أفاطِمَ مَهلًا بعضَ هذا التَّدَلّلِ
وإن كنتِ قد أَزمعتِ صَرمي فأجملي
أغَرّكِ مني أن حُبكِ قاتلي
وأنكِ مهما تأمُري القلبَ يفعلِ
وَما ذَرَفَت عَيناكِ إِلّا لِتَضرِبي
بِسَهمَيكِ في أَعشارِ قَلبٍ مُقَتَّلِ
Like ocean waves the night has overwhelmed me;
With all kinds of worries to check how tolerant can I be.
O, prolonged night! When are you going to unfold?
Yet, to bring forth a day as weighty and as untold.
What a night, stars bound to the Mount’s crest!
They are, with sturdy threads, tied at their best.
As if the Pleiades frozen, anchored to solid rocks;
With fine linen ropes, under night's scary locks.
وَلَيْلٍ كَمَوْجِ البَحْرِ أَرْخَى سُدُولَهُ
عَلَيَّ بِأنْواعِ الهُمُومِ لِيَبْتَلِــــــي
أَلا أَيُّها اللَّيْلُ الطَّويلُ أَلَا انْجَلِ
بِصُبْحٍ وما الإِصْباحُ مِنْكَ بِأَمْثَلِ
فَيا لَكَ مِنْ لَيْلٍ كَأَنَّ نُجُومَـــهُ
بِكُلِّ مُغَارِ الفَتْلِ شُدَّتْ بِيَذْبُــــــلِ
كَأنَّ الثُّرَيَّا عُلِّقَتْ في مَصَامِها
بِأَمْراسِ كَتَّانٍ إلَى صُمِّ جَنْـــدَلِ
