لَمّاwhen رَأَيتُI saw اللَيلَthe night مُنشَقَّsplit open الحُجُبthe veils
لَمّا رَأَيتُ اللَيلَ مُنشَقَّ الحُجُب
عَنrevealing سائِلِflowing الغُرَّةِthe white forehead-blaze مَشهورِlaid bare النُقُبthe openings
عَن سائِلِ الغُرَّةِ مَشهورِ النُقُب
When I saw the night with its veils rent,
When I saw the night having its veils torn asunder
Revealing a streaming white blaze, its openings laid bare,
By the flowing blaze of dawn, renowned for revealing the paths,
نازَلتُI confronted عُصمَwhite-footed goats الوَحشِof the wild عَنّاfrom us مِنfrom كَثَبclose range
نازَلتُ عُصمَ الوَحشِ عَنّا مِن كَثَب
مِنof كُلِّevery أَحوىdark-hued اللَونِin color مُبيَضِّwhite الذَنَبof tail
مِن كُلِّ أَحوى اللَونِ مُبيَضِّ الذَنَب
I confronted the white-footed wild goats a short distance from us,
I descended upon the inaccessible wild herds from close range,
Of every dark-hued, white-tailed kind.
Pursuing every dark-hued buck with a white tail,
يَهتَزُّit quivers عِندَduring الشَدِّthe charge بَلindeed وَالمُنجَذَبand the drawing back
يَهتَزُّ عِندَ الشَدِّ بَل وَالمُنجَذَب
هَزَّكَyour shaking بِالكَفِّwith the palm حُساماًa keen sword ذاhaving شُطَبgrooves
هَزَّكَ بِالكَفِّ حُساماً ذا شُطَب
It quivers in charging—indeed, in drawing back too—
That quivers during the charge, and indeed in the withdrawal,
As you shake a keen, grooved sword in your palm.
Like your shaking of a sharp, ridged sword in the palm,
كَأَنَّماas though يَطرِفُit blinks مِنfrom بَينِbetween الهُدُبthe eyelashes
كَأَنَّما يَطرِفُ مِن بَينِ الهُدُب
بِجَمرَتَيwith two embers of نارٍfire بِكَفِّin the palm of مُحتَطِبa wood-gatherer
بِجَمرَتَي نارٍ بِكَفِّ مُحتَطِب
As though it blinks from between its lashes
As though it gazes out from between its lashes
With two fiery embers in a wood-gatherer's palm.
With eyes like two burning embers in a wood-gatherer's hand,
ماnot كانَthere was إِلّاexcept جَولَةَa circling run الأُروىthe female ibexes الشَغِبrestless
ما كانَ إِلّا جَولَةَ الأُروى الشَغِب
وَوَثبَةَand the leap التَيسِof the buck بِأَقراحِacross the bare patches of الحَدَبthe hills
وَوَثبَةَ التَيسِ بِأَقراحِ الحَدَب
There was only the restless she-goats' circling
It was nothing but the wheeling of the riotous mountain goats,
And the buck's leap across the hills' bare patches,
And the leaping of the stag across the scarred ridges,
حَتّىuntil اِنثَنىit turned back مُختَضِباًbloodstained وَماand not خُضِبdyed
حَتّى اِنثَنى مُختَضِباً وَما خُضِب
مِنfrom مَغرِزِthe base of الزَورِthe chest إِلىto عَجبِthe root of الذَنَبthe tail
مِن مَغرِزِ الزَورِ إِلى عَجبِ الذَنَب
Before it turned back bloodstained, though undyed,
Until it turned over, dyed crimson though not with henna,
From the base of its chest to the root of its tail.
Stained from the brisket of its chest to the root of its tail.
Sol 6.1