سَلِask الْفُؤَادَthe heart وَدَعْand leave خَنَىfoul speech شُعْرُورِa poetaster
سَلِ الْفُؤَادَ وَدَعْ خَنَى شُعْرُورِ
فِيabout مَرْتَعِa meadow يُعْزَىis attributed إِلَىto الخِْنْزِيرِthe pig
فِي مَرْتَعِ يُعْزَى إِلَى الخِْنْزِيرِ
Ask the heart, and leave a poetaster's foul talk
Ask the heart, and leave the foul speech of a petty poet,
about a meadow associated with the pig.
In a pasture attributed to the swine,
وَأَدِرْand pass around طِلاَthe wine of الأَفْرَاحِjoys بَيْنَamong حَدَائِقٍgardens
وَأَدِرْ طِلاَ الأَفْرَاحِ بَيْنَ حَدَائِقٍ
كَنَمَارِقٍlike cushions مِنْof سُنْدُسٍfine silk brocade وَحَرِيرِand silk
كَنَمَارِقٍ مِنْ سُنْدُسٍ وَحَرِيرِ
And pass around the wine of joy among gardens
And pass around the wine of joys among gardens,
like cushions of fine brocade and silk,
Like cushions of brocade and silk,
فِيin جَنَّةٍa garden أَْيْنَعَتْhave ripened أَفْنَانُهَاits boughs
فِي جَنَّةٍ أَْيْنَعَتْ أَفْنَانُهَا
وَتَأَرَّجَتْand became fragrant أَرْجَاؤُهَاits reaches بِعَبِيرِwith perfume
وَتَأَرَّجَتْ أَرْجَاؤُهَا بِعَبِيرِ
in a garden whose boughs have ripened
In a paradise whose branches have flourished,
and whose reaches are fragrant with perfume.
And its environs are perfumed with fragrance,
وَتَزَخْرَفَتْand became adorned أَنْوَارُهَاits blossoms بِبَطَائِحٍacross broad expanses
وَتَزَخْرَفَتْ أَنْوَارُهَا بِبَطَائِحٍ
جَلَّتْwere exalted مَحَاسِنُهَاits beauties عَنِbeyond التَّعْبِيرِexpression
جَلَّتْ مَحَاسِنُهَا عَنِ التَّعْبِيرِ
And its blossoms are arrayed across broad expanses
And its blossoms are adorned across wide plains,
whose beauties lie beyond expression:
Whose beauties defy all expression,
مِنْof أَصْفَرٍyellow فِيamid أَحْمَرٍred فِيamid أَبْيَضٍwhite
مِنْ أَصْفَرٍ فِي أَحْمَرٍ فِي أَبْيَضٍ
كَالنَّضْرِlike gold وَالْعِقْيانِand pure gold وَالْبَلُّورِand crystal
كَالنَّضْرِ وَالْعِقْيانِ وَالْبَلُّورِ
yellow amid red amid white,
From yellow, into red, into white,
like gold, pure gold, and crystal.
Like radiant gold, pure ore, and crystal,
تُسْلِيconsole الْكَئِيبَthe sorrowful بِلاَبِلٌnightingales صَدَحَتْsang بِهَاin it
تُسْلِي الْكَئِيبَ بِلاَبِلٌ صَدَحَتْ بِهَا
كَكَوَاعِبٍlike full-bosomed maidens رَجَّعْنَthey chanted آيَverses of زَبُورِthe Psalms
كَكَوَاعِبٍ رَجَّعْنَ آيَ زَبُورِ
Nightingales singing there console the sorrowful,
Nightingales singing within it console the sorrowful,
like full-bosomed maidens chanting verses of the Psalms.
Like fair maidens chanting verses of the Psalms,
وَجَدَاوِلٌand streams تَنْسَابُflow gently تَحْسِبُyou think أَنَّهَاthat they
وَجَدَاوِلٌ تَنْسَابُ تَحْسِبُ أَنَّهَا
عِنْدَat الأَصِيلِlate afternoon جَرَتْran بِذَوْبَwith molten نَضِيرِgold
عِنْدَ الأَصِيلِ جَرَتْ بِذَوْبَ نَضِيرِ
And streams glide along—you would think that they
And streams gliding smoothly, you would think them,
at day's end ran with molten gold.
At twilight, to be flowing with molten gold,
أَرْبَىexcelled علَىover نَهْرِthe river of الأَبُلَّةِal-Ubulla بَهْجَةًin splendor
أَرْبَى علَى نَهْرِ الأَبُلَّةِ بَهْجَةً
وَزَرَىand cast scorn بِرَوْضِon the garden of الْغُوطَةِal-Ghuta الْمَشْهُورِthe famous
وَزَرَى بِرَوْضِ الْغُوطَةِ الْمَشْهُورِ
It surpassed the river of al-Ubulla in splendor
It surpasses the river of Al-Ubulla in splendor,
and put the famed garden of al-Ghuta to shame.
And belittles the famous gardens of Ghouta,
لَوْif أَبْصَرَhad seen النُّعْمَانُal-Nu'man بَهْجَةَthe splendor of حُسْنِهِits beauty
لَوْ أَبْصَرَ النُّعْمَانُ بَهْجَةَ حُسْنِهِ
لَمْdid not يَبْتَهِجْrejoice بِخَوَرْنَقٍin Khawarnaq وَسَدِيرِand Sadir
لَمْ يَبْتَهِجْ بِخَوَرْنَقٍ وَسَدِيرِ
Had al-Nu'man seen the splendor of its beauty,
Had Al-Nu'man beheld the splendor of its beauty,
he would not have delighted in Khawarnaq and Sadir.
He would not have rejoiced in Khawarnaq and Sadir;
لاَغَرْوَno wonder فيِin أَنْthat ذَمَّهُhe reviled it مَنْone who لَمْdid not يَجِدْfind
لاَغَرْوَ فيِ أَنْ ذَمَّهُ مَنْ لَمْ يَجِدْ
شِعْراًpoetry بِمَيْنِin the falsehood of هِجَائِهِhis satire الْمَكْسُورِbroken in meter
شِعْراً بِمَيْنِ هِجَائِهِ الْمَكْسُورِ
No wonder it was reviled by one who found no
No wonder it is disparaged by one who cannot master
poetry in the falsehood of his broken-metered satire,
Poetry, with the falsehood of his broken satire,
وَغَدَاand proceeded يُهَجَّنُهُto disparage it بِقَوْلِwith words of الزُّورِfalsehood
وَغَدَا يُهَجَّنُهُ بِقَوْلِ الزُّورِ
إِنَّindeed النُّضَارَpure gold يَرُوقُlooks beautiful بِالتَّشْحِيرِthrough blackening
إِنَّ النُّضَارَ يَرُوقُ بِالتَّشْحِيرِ
and proceeded to disparage it with lying words.
And begins to degrade it with words of deceit—
Indeed, pure gold grows lovelier through blackening.
For indeed, pure gold shines brighter against the soot.
Sol 6.1