أَرِقتُI lay sleepless لِذِكرىat the memory of مَنزِلٍa dwelling شَطَّwas far away نازِحٍdistant
أَرِقتُ لِذِكرى مَنزِلٍ شَطَّ نازِحٍ
كَلِفتُI was enamored بِأَنفاسِof the breaths of الشَمالِthe north wind لَهُfor its sake شَمّاinhaling
كَلِفتُ بِأَنفاسِ الشَمالِ لَهُ شَمّا
I lay sleepless, remembering a dwelling gone far, far away;
I lay sleepless remembering a dwelling far, far away.
I grew enamored of the north wind’s breaths, inhaling them for its scent.
I was enamored of the north wind’s breaths, inhaling them for its sake.
فَقُلتُso I said لِبَرقٍto lightning يَصدَعُcleaves اللَيلَthe night لامِحٍflashing
فَقُلتُ لِبَرقٍ يَصدَعُ اللَيلَ لامِحٍ
أَلاah حَيِّgreet عَنّيon my behalf ذَلِكَthat الرَبعَthe abode وَالرَسماand the traces
أَلا حَيِّ عَنّي ذَلِكَ الرَبعَ وَالرَسما
I said to a gleaming flash of lightning that cleaves the night:
So I said to lightning flashing, cleaving the night:
“Go, greet for me that encampment and its traces.
Ah, greet that abode and its traces on my behalf,
وَأَبلِغand tell قَطينَthe dweller of الدارِthe house أَنّيthat I أَُحِبُّهُI love him
وَأَبلِغ قَطينَ الدارِ أَنّي أَُحِبُّهُ
عَلىdespite النَأيِthe distance حُبّاًa love لَوif only جَزانيhe requited me بِهِfor it جَمّاabundant
عَلى النَأيِ حُبّاً لَو جَزاني بِهِ جَمّا
Tell the household of the dwelling that I love them
And tell the house’s dweller that I love him,
from afar—a love I wish they would requite abundantly.
Despite the distance, with abundant love—if only he would requite it.
وَأَقرىءand convey عُفَيراءَʿUfayrāʾ السَلامَgreetings وَقُلand say لَهاto her
وَأَقرىء عُفَيراءَ السَلامَ وَقُل لَها
أَلاah هَلshall ...? أَرىI see ذاكَthat السُهاSuhā, a faint star قَمَراًa moon تَمّاfull
أَلا هَل أَرى ذاكَ السُها قَمَراً تَمّا
Give ʿUfayrā my greetings, and say to her:
And convey greetings to ʿUfayrāʾ, and say to her:
‘Ah, shall I see that Suhā as a moon grown full?
Ah, shall I see that Suhā star become a full moon?
وَهَلand will ...? يَتَثَنّىsway ذَلِكَthat الغُصنُthe bough نَضرَةًin fresh bloom
وَهَل يَتَثَنّى ذَلِكَ الغُصنُ نَضرَةً
بِجَزعيat my valley’s bend وَهَلand shall ...? أَلويI fold مَعاطِفَهُits curves ضَمّاin an embrace
بِجَزعي وَهَل أَلوي مَعاطِفَهُ ضَمّا
Will that bough, in all its freshness, bend
And will that bough sway in fresh bloom
in my valley, and shall I fold its curves into an embrace?
At my valley’s bend—and shall I enfold its curves in an embrace?
وَمَنand who ليfor me بِذاكَwith that الخِشفِthe fawn مِنas مُتَقَنَّصٍquarry
وَمَن لي بِذاكَ الخِشفِ مِن مُتَقَنَّصٍ
فَآكُلَهُso I may eat it عَضّاًby biting وَأَشرَبَهُand drink it شَمّاby sniffing
فَآكُلَهُ عَضّاً وَأَشرَبَهُ شَمّا
Who can get me that fawn from the hunting ground,
And who will secure that fawn for me as quarry,
so I may eat it in bites and drink it in as scent?’
So I may devour it with bites and drink it in by scent?
وَدونَand between me and الصِباyouth إِحدىone وَخَمسونَand fifty حِجَّةًa year
وَدونَ الصِبا إِحدى وَخَمسونَ حِجَّةً
كَأَنّيas though I وَقَدand already وَلَّتthey have passed أُريتُI was shown بِهاin them حُلماa dream
كَأَنّي وَقَد وَلَّت أُريتُ بِها حُلما
Between me and youth stand fifty-one years,
And fifty-one years stand between me and youth,
as though, now they have gone, I had merely been shown a dream in them.
As though, now they have passed, I had been shown a dream in them.
فَياso, oh لَيتَif only طَيرَthe bird of السَعدِgood fortune يَسنَحُflies past auspiciously بِالمُنىwith wishes
فَيا لَيتَ طَيرَ السَعدِ يَسنَحُ بِالمُنى
فَأَحظىso I may win بِهاwith them سَهماًan allotted share وَأَنأىand depart بِهاwith them قِسماa portion
فَأَحظى بِها سَهماً وَأَنأى بِها قِسما
If only fortune’s bird would cross auspiciously, bearing my desire,
Oh, if only fortune’s bird would fly past bearing my wishes,
that I might win her as my portion and carry her away as my allotted share.
So I might win them as my lot and depart with them as my share.
وَياand oh لَيتَنيif only I كُنتُI were اِبنَa boy of عَشرٍten وَأَربَعٍand four
وَيا لَيتَني كُنتُ اِبنَ عَشرٍ وَأَربَعٍ
فَلَمso did not أَدعُهاI call her بِنتاًa daughter وَلَمand did not تَدعُنيshe calls me عَمّاan uncle
فَلَم أَدعُها بِنتاً وَلَم تَدعُني عَمّا
If only I were a boy of ten and four—
And oh, if only I were fourteen years old,
then I would not call her daughter, nor would she call me uncle.
So I would not call her daughter, nor would she call me uncle.
Sol 6.1