ثَهلانُThahlan لَوif كانَwere ليmine لِأَمسَتwould have become by evening
ثَهلانُ لَو كانَ لي لِأَمسَت
عَلَيكَfor you أَحشاؤُهُits innards نضاجاseared
عَلَيكَ أَحشاؤُهُ نضاجا
Had Thahlan been mine, by evening
If I had a Thahlan for last night
If Mount Thahlan bore what I bear, its stone entrails would have turned to roasting embers for your sake.
its innards would be seared with grief for you.
whose innards were scorched for you,
Darkness has descended upon me at dawn, for you were truly my illuminating lamp.
جَنَّenveloped عَلَيَّover me الظَلامُthe darkness صُبحاًat dawn
جَنَّ عَلَيَّ الظَلامُ صُبحاً
وَإِنَّماand only كُنتَyou were ليfor me سراجاa lamp
وَإِنَّما كُنتَ لي سراجا
Darkness enveloped me at dawn,
Darkness would dawn upon me
My tears have flowed red over you; indeed, they are tempered with my own blood.
and you alone were my lamp.
when you were my lamp,
The wounds of my heart bleed for you; no healer knows a cure for them.
جَرَتflowed دُموعيmy tears عَلَيكَfor you حُمراًred
جَرَت دُموعي عَلَيكَ حُمراً
إِنَّindeed لَهاin them مِنfrom دَميmy blood مِزاجاan admixture
إِنَّ لَها مِن دَمي مِزاجا
My tears flowed red for you;
My tears ran crimson for you
My calamity is immense and my patience rare, and my distress finds no release.
indeed, some of my blood is mingled in them.
For they were well-mixed with my blood,
You turned the honey of life into bitter aloe, and the ebony of youth into white ivory.
جِراحُthe wounds قَلبيmy heart عَلَيكَfor you تَدمىbleed
جِراحُ قَلبي عَلَيكَ تَدمى
لَمdid not يَدرِknow آسٍa healer لَهاfor them عِلاجاa cure
لَم يَدرِ آسٍ لَها عِلاجا
The wounds of my heart bleed for you;
My heart's wounds bleed for you
I tested my patience but my bereavement raged; I said weeping would heal, yet it only blazed fiercer.
no healer knew a cure for them.
With no healer knowing their remedy,
I knew not what ailed me that I persisted in grief, for I was never one to dwell in obstinacy.
جَلَّgrew grave مُصابيmy affliction وَعَزَّand grew scarce صَبريmy patience
جَلَّ مُصابي وَعَزَّ صَبري
وَلَمand did not تَجِدfind كُربَتيmy anguish اِنفِراجاrelief
وَلَم تَجِد كُربَتي اِنفِراجا
My affliction grew great, and my patience grew scarce,
My affliction is grave and my patience wanting
I have shunned my sleep—would that I had risen to whisper prayers to the One who hears all pleas.
and my anguish found no relief.
With no relief coming their way,
My heaven bestowed a star, born of the noblest of its ancient moons.
جَعَلتَyou turned شَهدَhoney الحَياةِlife صاباًbitter sap
جَعَلتَ شَهدَ الحَياةِ صاباً
وَآبنوسand ebony الشَبابِyouth عاجاivory
وَآبنوس الشَبابِ عاجا
You turned life's honey to bitter sap,
You made life's nectar bitter aloe
Through him, on the day glory appeared, the darkness of night and the dust of battle were cleared away.
and youth's ebony to ivory.
And the fruit of youth sour and unripe,
He debated me once, and his grasp of argument exhausted my own eloquence.
جَرَّبتُI tested صَبريmy patience فَهاجَthen flared up ثُكليmy bereavement
جَرَّبتُ صَبري فَهاجَ ثُكلي
وَقُلتُand I said يَشفيwould heal البُكاweeping فَهاجاyet it flared up
وَقُلتُ يَشفي البُكا فَهاجا
I tested my patience, and my bereavement flared;
I tested my patience so my mourning surged
A sickness within him forced me to swallow poison, twisting his straight form into crooked frailty.
and I said weeping would heal, but my grief flared.
And said tears may soothe the billowing grief,
May God reward my tears with good; they brought me aid, even if they could not fulfill my deepest need.
جَهَلتُI did not know ماwhat ليwith me لجَجتُI persisted stubbornly حُزناًin sorrow
جَهَلتُ ما لي لجَجتُ حُزناً
وَلَمand did not أَكُنI was أَعرِفُknow اللجاجاobstinacy
وَلَم أَكُن أَعرِفُ اللجاجا
I knew not what ailed me; I persisted in sorrow,
I was ignorant, why did I stubbornly grieve
You were my jewel, and my people the thread; after you, they shall never again fashion a crown.
and I had never known obstinacy.
When I knew nothing of stubbornness?
جَفوتُI shunned نوميmy sleep وَلَيتَand would that أَنّيI
جَفوتُ نومي وَلَيتَ أَنّي
قُمتُI rose فَناجَيتُand then I communed with مَنthe one who يُناجىis privately addressed
قُمتُ فَناجَيتُ مَن يُناجى
I shunned my sleep; and would that I
I denied myself sleep, oh would that
had risen and communed with the One addressed in prayer.
I had risen to converse with the confidant!
جادَتbestowed سَمائيmy sky بِكَوكَبٍwith a star مِنfrom
جادَت سَمائي بِكَوكَبٍ مِن
أَعتَقِthe noblest أَقمارِهاits moons نتاجاby birth
أَعتَقِ أَقمارِها نتاجا
My sky bestowed a star from
My skies shone with a star
the noblest of its moons by birth.
Freed from the fetters of its moons,
جَلَتdispelled بِهِthrough him يَومَon the day لاحَhe shone فهرٌFihr
جَلَت بِهِ يَومَ لاحَ فهرٌ
غياهَبَthe deep darkness اللَيلthe night وَالعجاجاand the dust clouds
غياهَبَ اللَيل وَالعجاجا
Through him, on the day he shone, Fihr dispelled
It blazed when dawn peered through
the deep darkness of night and the clouds of dust.
The dark tumultuous night,
جادَلَنيhe debated me مَرَّةًonce فَأَعياand confounded
جادَلَني مَرَّةً فَأَعيا
براعَتيmy skill فَهمُهُhis understanding اِحتِجاجاin argument
براعَتي فَهمُهُ اِحتِجاجا
He debated me once, and confounded
It argued with me once rendering me
my skill with his understanding in argument.
Helpless with its masterly contention,
جَرَّعَنيmade me swallow السُمَّpoison فيهِin him داءٌan illness
جَرَّعَني السُمَّ فيهِ داءٌ
بَدَّلَturned تَقويمهُhis upright form اِعوِجاجاcrookedness
بَدَّلَ تَقويمهُ اِعوِجاجا
An illness in him made me swallow poison,
It made me drink poison which turned
turning his upright form to crookedness.
Its sound constitution crooked,
جَزىmay reward الإِلهُGod الدُموعَthe tears خَيراًwith good
جَزى الإِلهُ الدُموعَ خَيراً
أَسعَدنَنيthey comforted me لَوif قَضَينَthey fulfilled حاجاneeds
أَسعَدنَني لَو قَضَينَ حاجا
May God reward the tears with good;
May God reward tears amply
they would have comforted me, had they met my needs.
I would be happy if they fulfilled a need,
جَوهَرَتيmy jewel وَالسلوكُand the threads قَوميmy people
جَوهَرَتي وَالسلوكُ قَومي
بَعدَكَafter you لاnot يَعقِدونَthey string together تاجاa crown
بَعدَكَ لا يَعقِدونَ تاجا
My jewel—and my people are the threads—
My gem and the conduct of my people
after you, they will string no crown.
After you will fashion no crown.
Partial English translation: 15 of 30 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1