لاNo وَجُفونٍby eyelids تَنوسُsway فيamid العُقَدِthe knots
لا وَجُفونٍ تَنوسُ في العُقَدِ
وَحُسْنُand by the beauty of ثَغْرٍa mouth يَلُوحُgleams كَالْبَرَدِlike hail
وَحُسْنُ ثَغْرٍ يَلُوحُ كَالْبَرَدِ
No, by eyelids swaying amid the knots,
No eyelids grow weary in the knots,
and by the beauty of a mouth gleaming like hail,
And the beauty of lips gleam like hailstones.
لاmay not كُنْتُI be مِمَّنْamong those who يُضيعُwastes أَدْمُعَهُhis tears
لا كُنْتُ مِمَّنْ يُضيعُ أَدْمُعَهُ
بينamong الأَثافيthe hearthstones والنَؤْيِand the trench والوَتِدِand the tent peg
بين الأَثافي والنَؤْيِ والوَتِدِ
may I never be among those who waste their tears
I'm not one who wastes his tears
among the hearthstones, the trench, and the tent peg.
Between tents, intonations, and tent pegs.
أَحْسَنُbetter مِنْthan وَقْفَةٍa halt علىat طَلَلٍa ruined campsite
أَحْسَنُ مِنْ وَقْفَةٍ على طَلَلٍ
قَفْرٍdesolate وزَجْرِand urging on العَيْرانَةِthe strong she-camel الأُجُدِsturdily built
قَفْرٍ وزَجْرِ العَيْرانَةِ الأُجُدِ
Better than a halt at a ruined campsite,
Better than standing at the ruins
desolate, and urging on the strong, sturdy she-camel,
Of a barren desert and the scolding of caravaneers
كَأْسُa cup مُدامٍaged wine جَلاunveiled المُديرُthe cupbearer بِهاwith it
كَأْسُ مُدامٍ جَلا المُديرُ بِها
أَمَّthe mother of اللَّياليnights وجَدَّةَand the grandmother of الأَبَدِeternity
أَمَّ اللَّيالي وجَدَّةَ الأَبَدِ
is a cup of aged wine, with which the cupbearer unveiled
Is a cup of wine the tavern keeper matured,
the mother of nights and the grandmother of eternity.
Mother of nights and essence of perpetuity.
نَشْرَبُهاwe drink it شُعْلَةًa flame بِلاwithout حُرَقٍburning
نَشْرَبُها شُعْلَةً بِلا حُرَقٍ
ونَجْتَليهاand we behold it رُوحاًa spirit بِلاwithout جَسَدِa body
ونَجْتَليها رُوحاً بِلا جَسَدِ
We drink it as a flame without burning,
We drink it in a flame without being burnt
and behold it as a spirit without a body.
And enjoy it as a spirit without a body.
هَلْhas…? أَحَدٌanyone نالَattained مِثْلَthe like of لَذَّتِناour pleasure
هَلْ أَحَدٌ نالَ مِثْلَ لَذَّتِنا
ياO بامَخايِالَBamakhayal لَيْلَةَon the night of الأَحَدِSunday
يا بامَخايِالَ لَيْلَةَ الأَحَدِ
Has anyone attained pleasure like ours,
Has anyone attained pleasure like ours,
O Bamakhayal, on Sunday night?
O dreams of the night of Sunday?
سَقْياrain-blessings لِماخورِfor the tavern of حارِثٍHarith ولِماand for what
سَقْيا لِماخورِ حارِثٍ ولِما
خَصَّhe favored بِهِwith it مِنْof مَحاسِنٍbeauties جُدُدِnew
خَصَّ بِهِ مِنْ مَحاسِنٍ جُدُدِ
May rain bless Harith's tavern, and the
A drink to the incense burner of Harith and what
fresh beauties with which he has graced it.
He was distinguished with of renewed beauties.
قُلْتُI said لَهُto him وابْنُهُwhile his son يَطوفُgoes around بِهاwith it
قُلْتُ لَهُ وابْنُهُ يَطوفُ بِها
عُمْرُكَyour life فيناamong us عِمَارَةُthe flourishing of البَلَدِthe town
عُمْرُكَ فينا عِمَارَةُ البَلَدِ
I said to him, as his son went around with it:
I said to him while his son walked around it:
Your life among us is the town's flourishing.
“Your life for us is the prosperity of the country,
بِابْنِكَthrough your son ذاthis فيin جَمالِthe beauty of صُورَتِهِhis form
بِابْنِكَ ذا في جَمالِ صُورَتِهِ
صِرْتَyou have become أَباfather of الظَبْيِthe gazelle لاnot أَباfather of الأَسَدِthe lion
صِرْتَ أَبا الظَبْيِ لا أَبا الأَسَدِ
With this son of yours, so beautiful in form,
With your son, who in the beauty of his image
you have become father of the gazelle, not father of the lion.
You have become the gazelle’s not the lion’s father.”
هاتِbring it اسْقِنِيهاlet me drink it فَإِنْfor if سَفَكْتَyou spill دَميmy blood
هاتِ اسْقِنِيها فَإِنْ سَفَكْتَ دَمي
فَماthen there is no بِقَتْليfor killing me عَليْكَagainst you مِنْany قَوَدِretaliatory killing
فَما بِقَتْلي عَليْكَ مِنْ قَوَدِ
Bring it; let me drink it—for if you spill my blood,
Give it to me to drink, and if you spill my blood,
you face no retaliation for killing me.
There will be no retaliation for my murder.
Sol 6.1