عيونُeyes الشِّعْرof poetry تصحوawaken فيin المراياthe mirrors
عيونُ الشِّعْر تصحو في المرايا
فتورقُand puts forth leaves فضةُthe silver of الأملِhope الكسَيحِcrippled
فتورقُ فضةُ الأملِ الكسَيحِ
Poetry's eyes awaken in the mirrors,
The eyes of poetry awaken in the mirrors
And the silver of crippled hope puts forth leaves.
So the silver of hopeful dreams blossoms
عيونُeyes الشِّعْرof poetry تَقرأread كَفَّthe palm of وقتيmy time
عيونُ الشِّعْر تَقرأ كَفَّ وقتي
وتكتبُand write قصةَthe story of الأفقthe horizon المُشيْحِturned away
وتكتبُ قصةَ الأفق المُشيْحِ
Poetry's eyes read the palm of my time,
The eyes of poetry read my palm
And write the story of the averted horizon.
And write the story of the melting horizon
ترىsee منّيfrom me، وفيّand within me، مدىthe extent of احتماليmy endurance
ترى منّي، وفيّ، مدى احتمالي
وتكشفُand uncover شاهدَthe witness of الأمسِyesterday الجريحِwounded
وتكشفُ شاهدَ الأمسِ الجريحِ
They see, from me and within me, the extent of my endurance,
They see in me, and in myself, my endurance
And uncover the witness of wounded yesterday.
And reveal the witness of the wounded past
عيونُeyes الشِّعْرof poetry تقدحُkindle بينbetween ذاتيmy self
عيونُ الشِّعْر تقدحُ بين ذاتي
وبينيand between me نبعَthe spring of شِريانيmy artery وروحيand my soul
وبيني نبعَ شِرياني وروحي
Poetry's eyes kindle, between my self
The eyes of poetry ignite between my essence
And me, the spring of my artery and my soul.
And me the spring of my veins and my spirit
فماso not أدريI know ، إذاwhen ماemphatic particle قلتُI utter شعراًpoetry،
فما أدري ، إذا ما قلتُ شعراً،
أشعراًpoetry? كانwas قوليmy utterance أمor جروحيmy wounds؟!
أشعراً كان قولي أم جروحي؟!
So I do not know, when I utter poetry,
So I don't know, if I were to say poetry
Was what I said poetry, or my wounds?!
Was my words poetic or were they my wounds?!
أأنفاسَthe breaths of? القصيدِverse ، ورُبَّand many a رَيَّاfragrance
أأنفاسَ القصيدِ ، ورُبَّ رَيَّا
منfrom الفردوسِParadise فيin الحرفِthe letter الذَبيحِslaughtered
من الفردوسِ في الحرفِ الذَبيحِ
The breaths of verse? And many a fragrance
Are the breaths of the ode, and the downpour of Riyah
From Paradise in the slaughtered letter.
From Paradise in the slaughtered letter
لناfor us فيin الشِّعْرِpoetry محيًىlife أوor مماتٌdeath
لنا في الشِّعْرِ محيًى أو مماتٌ
وموتُand the death of الحُرِّthe free person كالشِّعْرlike poetry الصّحيحِtrue
وموتُ الحُرِّ كالشِّعْر الصّحيحِ
In poetry we have life or death,
In poetry we have either life or death
And a free man's death is like true poetry.
And the death of the free is like proper poetry
فقدfor perhaps تغدوbecome الحياةُlife كأرضlike the land of «يَهْوَىYahweh»
فقد تغدو الحياةُ كأرض «يَهْوَى»
وقدand perhaps تغدوbecome القصيدةُthe poem كالمـlike the m… ...ِ!
وقد تغدو القصيدةُ كالمـ ...ِ!
For life may become like the land of 'Yahweh,'
So life may become like the land of "Yahwa"
And the poem may become like the m...!
And the poem may become like the wave
يُشيعُspread word المرجفونَthe alarm-mongers بأنّthat خَطْباًa calamity
يُشيعُ المرجفونَ بأنّ خَطْباً
أحاطencircled بطائرaround the bird of الشِّعْرِpoetry الفصيحِeloquent
أحاط بطائر الشِّعْرِ الفصيحِ
The alarm-mongers spread word that a calamity
The agitators spread that disaster
Has encircled the eloquent bird of poetry.
Has surrounded the eloquent bird of poetry
«فلكلوريةًfolkloric» صارتit became مزاجاًa mood
«فلكلوريةً» صارت مزاجاً
فلاso do not تحفلْpay heed بذاto this الفكْرthought النَّطيحِgored!
فلا تحفلْ بذا الفكْر النَّطيحِ!
It has become 'folkloric,' a mood;
"Folklore" has become a mood
So pay no heed to this gored thought!
So don't mind this brute idea!
لَكَمْhow often تُزْريdiscredits القَماءةُpettiness بالدَّعاوَىthe claims
لَكَمْ تُزْري القَماءةُ بالدَّعاوَى
تُحَمْلقُstares wide-eyed حينَwhen تنظرُlooks للسُّفوحِat the slopes!
تُحَمْلقُ حينَ تنظرُ للسُّفوحِ!
How often pettiness discredits claims,
How much barrenness is sown with claims
It stares wide-eyed when it looks at the slopes!
Peering when they look at the slopes!
يُشيعُspread word المرجفونَthe alarm-mongers بأنَّthat خَطباًa calamity
يُشيعُ المرجفونَ بأنَّ خَطباً
طَوَىfolded up بالنَّثرِwith prose ديوانَthe book of الجُمُوحِdefiance
طَوَى بالنَّثرِ ديوانَ الجُمُوحِ
The alarm-mongers spread word that a calamity
The agitators spread that disaster
Has folded up, with prose, the book of defiance,
Has folded the prose of the book of fervor
وأنّand that قصيدةَthe poem of اليومtoday استقالتْhas resigned،
وأنّ قصيدةَ اليوم استقالتْ،
تنامُsleeps علىon حروفٍletters منof صَفيحِsheet metal!
تنامُ على حروفٍ من صَفيحِ!
And that today's poem has resigned;
And that today's poem has resigned
It sleeps upon letters of sheet metal!
Sleeping on letters of tin!
لهاit has ليلُthe night of امرئImru' القيسal-Qays اغتراباًas exile،
لها ليلُ امرئ القيس اغتراباً،
لهاit has صبحٌa dawn كصبحlike the dawn of ابنIbn (son of) الجَمُوحِal-Jamuh!
لها صبحٌ كصبح ابن الجَمُوحِ!
It has the night of Imru' al-Qays for its exile,
It has Layla's night of estrangement
It has a dawn like the dawn of Ibn al-Jamuh!
It has a dawn like the dawn of Ibn Al-Jumouh!
تُوشِّحgirds ربّةَthe goddess of الإلهامinspiration سيفاًa sword
تُوشِّح ربّةَ الإلهام سيفاً
وتلعنُand curses عاثرَthe hapless one الحظّin fortune الشَّحيحِmiserly!
وتلعنُ عاثرَ الحظّ الشَّحيحِ!
It girds the goddess of inspiration with a sword,
The mistress of inspiration arms herself with a sword
And curses the hapless one of miserly fortune!
And curses the stumbling of bad luck
وماand not يُجديavails معin the presence of الموتِdeath التداويtreatment!
وما يُجدي مع الموتِ التداوي!
وماand not تُغنيbenefit السيوفthe swords علىfor الطَّريحِthe fallen!
وما تُغني السيوف على الطَّريحِ!
And treatment avails nothing in the face of death!
And medicine is no use against death!
And swords avail nothing for the fallen!
And swords are no use over the buried!
كذاthus كذبواthey lied، وبعضُand some الحقِّtruth كِذْبٌa lie
كذا كذبوا، وبعضُ الحقِّ كِذْبٌ
يواريconceals سَوأةَthe shame of الكِذْبِfalsehood الصَّريحِblatant!
يواري سَوأةَ الكِذْبِ الصَّريحِ!
Thus they lied; and some truth is a lie,
Thus they lied, and some of the truth is a lie
Concealing the shame of blatant falsehood!
That hides the disgrace of frank lying!
يلومblames الفاشلُthe unsuccessful person الدنياthe world ويشكوand complains
يلوم الفاشلُ الدنيا ويشكو
فسادَthe corruption of الدِّينreligion فيin السوقِthe market الرَّبيحِprofitable
فسادَ الدِّين في السوقِ الرَّبيحِ
The unsuccessful man blames the world and complains
The failure blames the world and complains
Of religion's corruption in the profitable market.
Of the corruption of religion in the windy market
وتعقمُand grow barren أمهاتُthe mothers of الخيلِhorses لمّاwhen
وتعقمُ أمهاتُ الخيلِ لمّا
يُخِبُّtrots الوهْنُweakness فيin المعنىmeaning اللَّقوحِfertile
يُخِبُّ الوهْنُ في المعنى اللَّقوحِ
And the mothers of horses grow barren when
And the mothers of horses are sterile when
Weakness trots through fertile meaning.
Weakness spoils the ripe meaning
فويلso woe غَدٍtomorrow منfrom اليومtoday ِ، وممّاand from what
فويل غَدٍ من اليوم ِ، وممّا
تُخبِّئconceal تحتbeneath إبْطيهits two armpits قروحيmy sores!
تُخبِّئ تحت إبْطيه قروحي!
So woe to tomorrow from today, and from what
So woe to tomorrow from today, and from what
My sores conceal beneath its armpits!
It hides wounds under its armpit!
معاذrefuge in الشِّعرpoetry، والأرزاءُand calamities تترىcome in succession
معاذ الشِّعر، والأرزاءُ تترى
بماthrough what نَعَقَcawed الغُرابُthe crow بكلّon every ريحِwind
بما نَعَقَ الغُرابُ بكلّ ريحِ
Poetry be my refuge, as calamities come one after another
Save poetry, and calamities wander
Through what the crow has cawed on every wind.
With what the crow has croaked in every wind
سيبقىwill remain فيin أتونِthe furnace of الخلقِcreation وحْيٌrevelation
سيبقى في أتونِ الخلقِ وحْيٌ
منfrom الشعراءthe poets، والشعراءُand the poets تُوحيinspire
من الشعراء، والشعراءُ تُوحي
Revelation will remain in the furnace of creation,
In the crucible of creation will remain an inspiration
From poets—and poets inspire.
From the poets, and the poets inspire
سيبقىwill remain الشعرُpoetry ديوانَthe chronicle of البراياall creation،
سيبقى الشعرُ ديوانَ البرايا،
نَدِيّdewy النَّبْضin pulse بالوعْدِwith the promise السَّموحِgenerous
نَدِيّ النَّبْض بالوعْدِ السَّموحِ
Poetry will remain the chronicle of all creation,
Poetry will remain the book of the wilds
Its pulse dewy with the generous promise.
Loudly pulsing with the promising oath
سيبقىwill remain فيamong الورىhumankind رئةًa lung، وقلباًand a heart،
سيبقى في الورى رئةً، وقلباً،
صَبيحَfair الصوتof voice،منتفضَtrembling الصُّروحِthe edifices
صَبيحَ الصوت،منتفضَ الصُّروحِ
It will remain among humankind a lung and a heart,
It will remain in existence a lung and a heart
Fair of voice, its edifices trembling,
Dawn of sound, the ridges bursting forth
يُقايضbarters وردةَthe rose of الآتيthe future بأمسٍfor a yesterday
يُقايض وردةَ الآتي بأمسٍ
منof القفراءbarren wilderness والعصرand the age الضَّريحِthe tomb!
من القفراء والعصر الضَّريحِ!
It barters the rose of the future for a yesterday
It barters the rose of the future for a past
Of barren wilderness and the age that is a tomb!
Of barrenness and the buried age
وإنّاand indeed we نبْدأbegin الأحلامَdreams شِعراًas poetry
وإنّا نبْدأ الأحلامَ شِعراً
فتنبجسُso gush forth الخوابيthe jars بالصَّبوحِwith morning wine
فتنبجسُ الخوابي بالصَّبوحِ
And indeed we begin dreams as poetry,
And we begin dreams as poetry
So the jars gush with morning wine.
So the folds gush at dawn
نعيدُwe restore بهthrough it الروائحَthe fragrances للعشاياto the evenings
نعيدُ به الروائحَ للعشايا
ونحملُand we carry سِفْرَهُits book يومَon the day of النزوحِexodus
ونحملُ سِفْرَهُ يومَ النزوحِ
Through it we restore fragrances to the evenings,
With it we bring back scents to the evenings
And carry its book on the day of exodus.
And carry its book on the day of departure
ولولاand were it not for الشعرُpoetry ماnot كانتْwould have existed لغاتٌlanguages
ولولا الشعرُ ما كانتْ لغاتٌ
ولاnor اقترحَwould have proposed الخيالُimagination مَدَىthe reach of الطُّمُوحِambition
ولا اقترحَ الخيالُ مَدَى الطُّمُوحِ
And without poetry, there would have been no languages,
And without poetry there would be no languages
Nor would imagination have proposed ambition's reach.
Nor did imagination conceive the extent of ambition
ولولاand were it not for الشعرُpoetry ماnot سارتْwould have marched سحابُclouds of الـthe
ولولا الشعرُ ما سارتْ سحابُ الـ
ـمشاعرfeelings، جيشَan army of هطَّالٍrain-pouring دَلُوْحِheavy with water
ـمشاعر، جيشَ هطَّالٍ دَلُوْحِ
And without poetry, there would be no march of the clouds of
And without poetry the clouds of feelings would not flow
Feeling, an army of rain-pouring, heavy-laden clouds,
An army of pouring showers
يروِّيwaters خابيthe fading part of التاريخِhistory فيناwithin us
يروِّي خابي التاريخِ فينا
ويغشاناand envelops us بشُؤْبوبٍwith a rainburst سَحُوحِcopiously pouring
ويغشانا بشُؤْبوبٍ سَحُوحِ
It waters what is fading of history within us,
It waters the folds of history within us
And envelops us in a streaming downpour.
And covers us in blowing spindrift
يُعيدُrenews بناءَthe building of أوجهناour faces ، ويرنوand gazes
يُعيدُ بناءَ أوجهنا ، ويرنو
لوجْهِtoward the face of الحُسْنِbeauty فيin وجْهٍa face قبيحِugly
لوجْهِ الحُسْنِ في وجْهٍ قبيحِ
It rebuilds our faces and gazes
It rebuilds our faces, and yearns
Toward the face of beauty in an ugly face.
For beauty's face in an ugly face
هلis? الشِّعْرُpoetry وقدand already تعبتْhave grown weary نصالُthe blades of الـthe
هل الشِّعْرُ وقد تعبتْ نصالُ الـ
ـقصائدِpoems غيرother than إنسانٍa human being وروحِand a soul؟!
ـقصائدِ غير إنسانٍ وروحِ؟!
Is poetry—with the now-weary blades of the
Is poetry, when the blades of odes are weary, anything but a human and a soul?!
Poems—anything but a human being and a soul?!
For many a poem has sought a banner
فرُبَّfor many a قصيدةٍpoem قَصَدَتْsought لِواءًa banner ،
فرُبَّ قصيدةٍ قَصَدَتْ لِواءً ،
وربَّand many a قصيدةٍpoem فتْحُthe conquest of الفُتُوحِconquests!
وربَّ قصيدةٍ فتْحُ الفُتُوحِ!
For many a poem has sought a banner,
And many a poem the opening of conquests!
And many a poem is the conquest of conquests!
Partial English translation: 65 of 66 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1