ياO بِنتَdaughter شَمسِsun ضُحىًmidmorning ياO أُختَsister بَدرِfull moon دُجىًnight's darkness
يا بِنتَ شَمسِ ضُحىً يا أُختَ بَدرِ دُجىً
ياO ضَرَّةَrival الغُصنِthe bough مَهماhowever much راقَwas lovely بِالثَّمَرِwith fruit
يا ضَرَّةَ الغُصنِ مَهما راقَ بِالثَّمَرِ
O daughter of the midmorning sun, O sister of the full moon in night's darkness,
O daughter of the rising dawn, o sister of the moonlit night
O rival of the bough, however lovely it is with fruit.
O blossom of the branch, however delightful with fruit
يَبلَىwears out الزَّمانُtime وَأَشواقيand my longings مُجَدَّدَةٌrenewed
يَبلَى الزَّمانُ وَأَشواقي مُجَدَّدَةٌ
تَجولُthey roam مِنِّيthrough me مَجالَthe range of السَّمعِhearing وَالبَصَرِand sight
تَجولُ مِنِّي مَجالَ السَّمعِ وَالبَصَرِ
Time wears out, but my longings are renewed;
Time passes, yet my longing is made new
They range through me as hearing and sight do.
Roaming my hearing and my sight
وَلَوand even if سَمَحتِyou granted بِلُقياa meeting with الطَّيفِthe phantom عِشتُI would live بِهِby it
وَلَو سَمَحتِ بِلُقيا الطَّيفِ عِشتُ بِهِ
دَهراًfor an age وَإِنand even if هِمتُI was enamored بَعدَafter العَينِthe actual presence بِالأَثَرِof the trace
دَهراً وَإِن هِمتُ بَعدَ العَينِ بِالأَثَرِ
And if you granted a meeting with your phantom, I would live by it
If you would let me meet your phantom I would live by it
for an age, though after your presence I was enamored of its trace.
An age, though after eyes yearn for vestiges
فَبَعدَso after لَحظِكِyour glance لاnot أَرنوI gaze لِغانِيَةٍat a beautiful woman
فَبَعدَ لَحظِكِ لا أَرنو لِغانِيَةٍ
وَلَوand even if تَحَلَّتshe adorned herself بِنورِwith the light of الشَّمسِthe sun وَالقَمَرِand the moon
وَلَو تَحَلَّت بِنورِ الشَّمسِ وَالقَمَرِ
So after your glance, I gaze at no beautiful woman,
After your glance, I incline to no songs
even if she adorned herself with the light of sun and moon.
However bejeweled with the light of sun and moon
وَبَعدَand after لَفظِكِyour speech لاnot أَحنوI incline tenderly لِساجِعَةٍtoward a cooing bird
وَبَعدَ لَفظِكِ لا أَحنو لِساجِعَةٍ
وَلَوand even if تَوَلَّتit turned away بِحَرِّwith the heat of الشَّوقِlonging وَالذِّكَرِand memories
وَلَو تَوَلَّت بِحَرِّ الشَّوقِ وَالذِّكَرِ
And after your speech, I incline to no cooing bird,
And after your words, I sing no elegy
even if it turned away with burning longing and memories.
However it comes with passion and remembrance
ياO رَبعَdwelling أَندَرَشٍAndarash سَقاكَmay it water you مِنfrom شَجَنيmy sorrow
يا رَبعَ أَندَرَشٍ سَقاكَ مِن شَجَني
دَرٌّan abundant flow يُمَرِّحُsets dancing عِندَat السَّكبِthe pouring بِالدُّرَرِwith pearls
دَرٌّ يُمَرِّحُ عِندَ السَّكبِ بِالدُّرَرِ
O dwelling of Andarash, may you be watered from my sorrow
O gently sloping plain, my ardour gave you to drink
by a stream that makes pearls dance as it pours;
A stream that frolics as it spills its pearls
وَفَتَّحَand made blossom الشَّوقُlonging فيin مَغناكَyour abode مِنfrom بِدَعيmy novel creations
وَفَتَّحَ الشَّوقُ في مَغناكَ مِن بِدَعي
رَوضاًa garden يُبَهرِجُmakes seem counterfeit لِلحاليto the jewel-wearer مِنَof الزَّهَرِflowers
رَوضاً يُبَهرِجُ لِلحالي مِنَ الزَّهَرِ
and may longing bring into bloom in your abode, from my novel creations,
And longing opened up in your melody
a garden that makes blossoms seem counterfeit to the jewel-wearer,
A garden that surges with flowers for the dreamer
حَتَّىso that يُنافِحَنيwafts toward me فيat كُلِّall آوِنَةٍtimes
حَتَّى يُنافِحَني في كُلِّ آوِنَةٍ
مِمّاfrom what تَضَمَّنتَyou have contained عَرفُthe fragrance of الرَّوضِthe garden فيat السَّحَرِthe predawn hour
مِمّا تَضَمَّنتَ عَرفُ الرَّوضِ في السَّحَرِ
so that at all times there wafts toward me
Until at every moment it assails me
from what you hold, the garden's fragrance before dawn.
With what the garden’s fragrance comprises at dawn
Sol 6.1