وَمُؤاتيand yielding الطَرفِthe gaze عَفِّchaste اللِسانِthe tongue
وَمُؤاتي الطَرفِ عَفِّ اللِسانِ
مُطمِعِarousing hope الإِطراقيthe downcast gaze عاصيdefying العِنانِthe rein
مُطمِعِ الإِطراقي عاصي العِنانِ
And one yielding in glance, chaste of tongue,
The flirtatious, loose-tongued one,
With a compliant glance and a chaste tongue,
Arousing hope with downcast eyes, yet defying the rein,
Urging my steed faster, ignoring the reins,
He tempts while looking down, yet remains rebellious to the rein;
مازِجٍmingling ليfor me مِنsome of رَجاءٍhope بِيَأسٍwith despair
مازِجٍ لي مِن رَجاءٍ بِيَأسٍ
نازِحٍdistant بِالفِعلِin deed وَالقَولِand in speech دانِnear
نازِحٍ بِالفِعلِ وَالقَولِ دانِ
Mingling hope for me with despair,
Mixing hope and despair for me,
Mixing for me a blend of hope and despair,
Distant in deed, but near in speech.
Advancing in word and deed humbly.
Distant in his deeds, yet intimate in his words.
فَإِذاthen when خاطَبَكَaddressed you الجِدُّsober truth عَنهُabout him
فَإِذا خاطَبَكَ الجِدُّ عَنهُ
أَكذَبَbelied الجِدَّsober truth حَديثُthe talk of الأَمانيwishes
أَكذَبَ الجِدَّ حَديثُ الأَماني
Then, when sober truth speaks to you of him,
If seriousness addresses you about it,
So when Reality addresses you concerning him,
The talk of wishes gives the lie to sober truth.
Seriousness belies the speech of wishes.
The conversation of wishful thinking belies that Reality—
غَيرَyet أَنّيthat I قائِلٌsaying ماwhat أَتانيcame to me
غَيرَ أَنّي قائِلٌ ما أَتاني
مِنfrom ظُنونيmy fancies مُكَذِبٌgiving the lie لِلعِيانِto the evidence of sight
مِن ظُنوني مُكَذِبٌ لِلعِيانِ
Yet I utter whatever comes to me
Except I'm saying what came to me,
Except that I speak only what has come to me
From my fancies, denying the evidence of sight.
From my suspicions, belying realities,
From my conjectures, contradicting what is visible to the eye;
آخِذٌbinding نَفسيmyself بِتَأليفِto putting together شَيءٍa thing
آخِذٌ نَفسي بِتَأليفِ شَيءٍ
واحِدٍone فيin اللَفظِwording شَتّىdiverse المَعانيmeanings
واحِدٍ في اللَفظِ شَتّى المَعاني
I bind myself to fashioning a thing,
Taking myself to compose something,
Compelling my soul to construct a thing
Single in wording, manifold in meanings,
Singular in word, diverse in meanings.
Singular in wording, yet manifold in meaning.
قائِمٌexisting فيin الوَهمِimagination حَتّىuntil إِذاماwhenever
قائِمٌ في الوَهمِ حَتّى إِذاما
رُمتُهُI sought it رُمتُI sought مُعَمّىconcealed المَكانِthe location
رُمتُهُ رُمتُ مُعَمّى المَكانِ
Existing in fancy—until the moment when
Standing in fancy, until when
It exists in illusion, until the moment
I seek it, and seek something whose whereabouts are hidden.
I throw it, I've thrown an invisible place.
I sought it, I sought a place concealed,
فَكَأَنّيso it is as though I تابِعٌfollowing حُسنَthe beauty of شَيءٍa thing
فَكَأَنّي تابِعٌ حُسنَ شَيءٍ
مِنfrom أَماميbefore me لَيسَis not بِالمُستَبانِclearly discernible
مِن أَمامي لَيسَ بِالمُستَبانِ
So I seem to follow the beauty of something
So it's as if I'm following the beauty
As though I were pursuing the beauty of something
Ahead of me, yet not clearly discernible.
Of something ahead of me, not evident.
That lies before me, yet remains indistinct.
فَتَعَزَّيتُso I consoled myself بِصِرفٍwith unmixed عُقارٍwine
فَتَعَزَّيتُ بِصِرفٍ عُقارٍ
نَشَأَتgrew up فيin حِجرِthe lap of أُمِّthe mother of الزَمانِTime
نَشَأَت في حِجرِ أُمِّ الزَمانِ
So I consoled myself with unmixed wine,
So I was consoled by a draught of medicine
So I sought solace in a pure, strong vintage
Which grew up in the lap of Time's mother.
That grew in the lap of Mother Time.
That was raised in the very lap of the Mother of Time;
فَهيَso she is سِنُّthe age-mate of الدَهرِTime إِنif هِيَshe فُرَّتhad her teeth examined
فَهيَ سِنُّ الدَهرِ إِن هِيَ فُرَّت
نَشَئاthe two grew up وَارتَضَعاand the two suckled مِنfrom لِبانِmilk
نَشَئا وَارتَضَعا مِن لِبانِ
She is Time's age-mate, if her teeth are examined:
For it is the tooth of fate - if it dashed away
She is the peer of Eternity; were she compared,
The two grew up together and suckled the same milk.
And suckled in its prime from fresh milk -
They grew as twins and suckled from the same breast.
وَتَناساهاand neglected her الجَديدانِday and night حَتّىuntil
وَتَناساها الجَديدانِ حَتّى
هِيَshe أَنصافُhalves of شُطورِhalves of الدَنانِthe wine jars
هِيَ أَنصافُ شُطورِ الدَنانِ
And day and night left her forgotten, until
And the two new ones forgot it
The Day and Night forgot her, until
She was but half the halves of the wine jars.
Until it was halfway ground down.
She was reduced to the mere halves of the jars.
فَاِفتَرَعناthen we deflowered مُزَّةَa tart wine الطَعنِthe thrust فيهاin her
فَاِفتَرَعنا مُزَّةَ الطَعنِ فيها
نَزَقُthe impetuousness of البِكرِthe virgin وَلينُand the softness of العَوانِthe matron
نَزَقُ البِكرِ وَلينُ العَوانِ
Then we deflowered a wine tart to the thrust; in her
So we enjoyed the flavor of mocking it,
We broached her seal—a wine possessing the bite
Were a virgin's impetuousness and a matron's softness.
The delicacy of a virgin, the softness of a lover.
Of a virgin’s caprice and a matron’s tenderness.
وَاِحتَسَيناand we sipped مِنfrom عَتيقٍaged عُقارٍwine
وَاِحتَسَينا مِن عَتيقٍ عُقارٍ
خُسرَوِيٍّof Khusraw كامِنٍhidden فيin لِيانِwine jars
خُسرَوِيٍّ كامِنٍ في لِيانِ
And we sipped of an aged wine,
And we gained from an aged, mature medicine,
And we sipped from an ancient vintage,
Khusrawian, hidden in wine jars.
Khosrowan, latent in the goblets.
A royal spirit lurking within pliancy;
لَمdid not يَجفُهاforsake her مِبزَلُthe tapping-spike of القَومِthe company حَتfirst part of 'until'
لَم يَجفُها مِبزَلُ القَومِ حَت
تىrest of 'until' نَجَمَتshe emerged مِثلَlike نُجومِthe emergence of السِنانِthe spearhead
تى نَجَمَت مِثلَ نُجومِ السِنانِ
The company's tapping-spike did not forsake her until
The tribe's abode did not dry it out
The strainer of the company did not treat her harshly,
She emerged as a spearhead emerges,
Until it shone like the stars of Sinnan,
Until she shone forth like the stars on spearheads,
أَوor كَعِرقِlike a vein of السامِgold يَنشَقُّsplits off عَنهُfrom it
أَو كَعِرقِ السامِ يَنشَقُّ عَنهُ
شُعَبٌbranches مِثلَlike اِنفِراجِthe spreading apart of البَنانِthe fingers
شُعَبٌ مِثلَ اِنفِراجِ البَنانِ
Or like a vein of gold from which split off
Or like the vein of lightning that splits from it
Or like a vein of ore splitting open to reveal
Branches, like fingers spreading apart.
Valleys like the divergence of the cliffs.
Branches spreading like the parting of fingers.
فَلِيَso mine is الصَهباءُthe tawny wine أَبكيI weep عَلَيهاover her
فَلِيَ الصَهباءُ أَبكي عَلَيها
وَالمَغانيand the dwellings لِبُكاةِfor weepers over المَغانيthe dwellings
وَالمَغاني لِبُكاةِ المَغاني
So mine is the tawny wine—I weep over her,
So the wakeful white camels are mine, I cry over it,
So let the reddish wine be mine to weep over,
And the dwellings are for those who weep over dwellings.
And the songs are for the singers of songs.
And leave the ruined dwellings to those who weep for ruins.
Sol 6.1