الموضوع: قصيدة للشاعر ساموئيل تايلور كُولَرِيج Samuel Taylor Coleridg
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قديم 12-24-2010, 01:32 AM
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ترجمة قصيدة (قبلاي خان)




Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1772-1834



Kubla Khan







In Xanadu did Kubla Khan


A stately pleasure-dome decree


Where Alph, the sacred river, ran


Through caverns measureless to man


Down to a sunless sea


So twice five miles of fertile ground


With walls and towers were girdled round


And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills


Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree


And here were forests ancient as the hills


Enfolding sunny spots of greenery


....


But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted


Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover


A savage place! as holy and enchanted


As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted


By woman wailing for her demon-lover


And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething


As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing


A mighty fountain momently was forced


Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst


Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail


Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail


And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever


It flung up momently the sacred river


Five miles meandering with a mazy motion


Through wood and dale the sacred river ran


Then reached the caverns measureless to man


And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean


And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far


Ancestral voices prophesying war


The shadow of the dome of pleasure


Floated midway on the waves


Where was heard the mingled measure


From the fountain and the caves


It was a miracle of rare device


A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice


A damsel with a dulcimer


In a vision once I saw


It was an Abyssinian maid


And on her dulcimer she played


Singing of Mount Abora


Could I revive within me


Her symphony and song


To such a deep delight 'twould win me


That with music loud and long


I would build that dome in air


That sunny dome! those caves of ice


And all who heard should see them there


And all should cry, Beware! Beware


His flashing eyes, his floating hair


Weave a circle round him thrice


And close your eyes with holy dread


For he on honey-dew hath fed


And drunk the milk of Paradise

هذي دمشقُ وهذي الكأسُ والرّاحُ
إنّي أحبُّ... وبعـضُ الحبِّ ذبّاحُ
أنا الدمشقيُّ لو شرحتمُ جسدي .. لسالَ منهُ عناقيـدٌ وتفـّاحُ
ولو فتحتُم شراييني بمديتكم .. سمعتمُ في دمي أصواتَ من راحوا
زراعةُ القلبِ تشفي بعضَ من عشقوا .. وما لقلبي إذا أحببتُ جرّاحُ
مآذنُ الشّـامِ تبكي إذ تعانقني .. وللمآذنِ كالأشجارِ أرواحُ
للياسمينِ حقـوقٌ في منازلنا.. وقطّةُ البيتِ تغفو حيثُ ترتاحُ
طاحونةُ البنِّ جزءٌ من طفولتنا .. فكيفَ أنسى؟ وعطرُ الهيلِ فوّاحُ
هذا مكانُ "أبي المعتزِّ".. منتظرٌ ووجهُ "فائزةٍ" حلوٌ ولمّاحُ
هنا جذوري هنا قلبي .. هنا لغـتي فكيفَ أوضحُ؟
هل في العشقِ إيضاحُ؟

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(أعشق وطني والمطر)