وَخَميلَةٍand a grove قَدalready أَخمَلَتmade velvety سِربالَهاits robe
وَخَميلَةٍ قَد أَخمَلَت سِربالَها
كَفّاthe two hands of صَناعٍa deft craftswoman تَستَهِلُّpours rain هَتونِsteadily rain-shedding
كَفّا صَناعٍ تَستَهِلُّ هَتونِ
And a grove whose robe has been made velvety
A lovely one has let down her cloak,
By a deft craftswoman’s two hands, pouring ceaseless rain.
Like the making of a skilled artist unraveling silk.
طَوَتِshe traversed السُرىthe night journey وَالبَرقُand the lightning سَوطٌa whip خافِقٌswinging
طَوَتِ السُرى وَالبَرقُ سَوطٌ خافِقٌ
بِيَدِin the hand of الدُجىdarkness وَالريحُand the wind ظَهرُthe back of أَمونِa sure-footed she-camel
بِيَدِ الدُجى وَالريحُ ظَهرُ أَمونِ
She traversed her night journey, lightning a swinging whip
The Pleiades have inclined to the west, and the lightning is a wavering torch
In darkness’s hand, and the wind a sure-footed she-camel’s back.
In the hand of the darkness, and the wind is a spreading carpet.
بُشرىglad tidings تَهادىshe walks swaying فيin وِشاحٍa sash مُذهَبٍgilded
بُشرى تَهادى في وِشاحٍ مُذهَبٍ
قَلِقٍquivering وَتَسحَبُand she trails مِنsome of ذُيولٍtrailing skirts جونِdark
قَلِقٍ وَتَسحَبُ مِن ذُيولٍ جونِ
Bringing glad tidings, she sways in a gilded sash
Good news sways in a gilded mantle,
That quivers; and she trails dark skirts.
Agitated, dragging its train of moons.
طَبَعَتshe stamped عَلىupon النُوّارِthe blossoms بيضَwhite دَراهِمٍdirhams (silver coins)
طَبَعَت عَلى النُوّارِ بيضَ دَراهِمٍ
مَدَّتheld out إِلَيكَto you بِهاwith them بَنانُthe fingertips of غُصونِbranches
مَدَّت إِلَيكَ بِها بَنانُ غُصونِ
She stamped white dirhams upon the blossoms,
It stamped white coins on the boughs,
Which the branches’ fingertips held out to you.
And stretched out to you with it the fingers of branches.
فَرَفَلتُso I strutted حَيثُwhere تَعَثَّرتstumbled بيwith me نَشوَةٌrapture
فَرَفَلتُ حَيثُ تَعَثَّرت بي نَشوَةٌ
فيin ثَوبِa robe of وَشيٍbrocade لِلرَبيعِfor spring مَصونِkept safe
في ثَوبِ وَشيٍ لِلرَبيعِ مَصونِ
So I strutted where rapture made me stumble,
So I fluttered about where rapture stumbled against me,
In a robe of brocade, kept safe for spring.
In the garment of a spring kept hidden.
وَالأَرضُand the earth تَسفُرُunveils عَنfrom وُجوهِthe faces of مَحاسِنٍbeauties
وَالأَرضُ تَسفُرُ عَن وُجوهِ مَحاسِنٍ
بيضٍwhite وَتَنظُرُand gazes عَنthrough عُيونٍeyes عينِwide
بيضٍ وَتَنظُرُ عَن عُيونٍ عينِ
And the earth unveils the faces of beauties,
And the earth reveals the faces of its beauties,
White, and gazes through wide eyes.
White, and looks with eyes of fountains.
Sol 6.1