ماnot كانَwould have been واشٍa talebearer عَنabout تَلدّدِهhis restless turning
ما كانَ واشٍ عَن تَلدّدِه
لَوif غادَرَhad left البَينُparting شَيئاًanything مِنof تجلّدِهhis fortitude
لَو غادَرَ البَينُ شَيئاً مِن تجلّدِه
No talebearer would have told of his restless turning,
He was not negligent of his affection,
had parting left him any fortitude.
Even if separation left anything of his determination.
أَوماhe beckoned إِلَيناto us بأَطرافٍwith fingertips مُخَضَّبةٍdyed
أَوما إِلَينا بأَطرافٍ مُخَضَّبةٍ
وَماسَand he swayed فآنآدَso bent صَبريmy patience فيin تَوَدّدِهhis wooing
وَماسَ فآنآدَ صَبري في تَوَدّدِه
He beckoned to us with dyed fingertips,
He did not come to us with blood-stained fingertips,
and he swayed, so my patience bent amid his wooing.
Nor did the tip of his spear pierce my patience in his love.
رَمىhe shot بِطَرفٍwith a glance وَلَمand did not يَمدُدextend إِليَّtoward me يَداًa hand
رَمى بِطَرفٍ وَلَم يَمدُد إِليَّ يَداً
فَماso what لِنَضحwith the spray of دَميmy blood الهاميstreaming عَلىupon يَدِهِhis hand
فَما لِنَضح دَمي الهامي عَلى يَدِهِ
He shot with a glance, yet did not extend a hand toward me.
He glanced at me with his eyes but did not stretch out his hand to me,
Why, then, is the spray of my streaming blood upon his hand?
So why should I pour out my passionate blood upon his hand?
Sol 6.1