أَباO father of سَعيدٍSa'id وَماand not وَصفيmy description بِمُتَّهَمٍat all suspect
أَبا سَعيدٍ وَما وَصفي بِمُتَّهَمٍ
عَلىin الثَناءِpraise وَلاnor شُكريmy gratitude بِمُختَرَمِcut short
عَلى الثَناءِ وَلا شُكري بِمُختَرَمِ
O Abu Sa'id, my words are beyond suspicion
Abu Sa'id though I'm no slanderer accused,
in praising you, nor is my gratitude cut short.
With praise or thanks or self-esteem reduced.
لَئِنif indeed جَحَدتُكَI deny you ماwhat أَولَيتَyou bestowed مِنof حَسَنٍgoodness
لَئِن جَحَدتُكَ ما أَولَيتَ مِن حَسَنٍ
إِنّيindeed I لَفيsurely in اللُؤمِbaseness أَولىmore deserving مِنكَthan you فيin الكَرَمِgenerosity
إِنّي لَفي اللُؤمِ أَولى مِنكَ في الكَرَمِ
If I deny the goodness you have bestowed on me,
If I deny the good you have displayed,
then I would rank higher in baseness than you in generosity.
In baseness I than you are more arrayed.
أَنسىmade one forget اِبتِسامَكَyour smile وَالأَلوانُwhile the complexions كاسِفَةٌpale
أَنسى اِبتِسامَكَ وَالأَلوانُ كاسِفَةٌ
تَبَسُّمَthe smile of الصُبحِdawn فيin داجٍa dark expanse مِنَof الظُلَمِdarkness
تَبَسُّمَ الصُبحِ في داجٍ مِنَ الظُلَمِ
Your smile, while faces were pale, made me forget
Your smiling face I can't forget, though dim
the dawn's smile amid pitch-dark gloom.
The morn's first smile in darkness breaking grim.
كَذاlikewise أَخوكَyour brother النَدىGenerosity لَوif أَنَّهُthat he بَشَرٌa human being
كَذا أَخوكَ النَدى لَو أَنَّهُ بَشَرٌ
لَمnot يُلفِbe found طَرفَةَa blink of عَينٍan eye غَيرَother than مُبتَسِمِsmiling
لَم يُلفِ طَرفَةَ عَينٍ غَيرَ مُبتَسِمِ
So too your brother, Generosity, were he human,
Just so your tears, if human, smile-bedight,
would never be found unsmiling, even for the blink of an eye.
Ne'er other look but smiling gave the sight.
رَدَدتَyou restored رَونَقَthe lustre of وَجهيmy face فيupon صَحيفَتِهِits page
رَدَدتَ رَونَقَ وَجهي في صَحيفَتِهِ
رَدَّas the restoration by الصِقالِpolishing بِماءِwith the sheen of الصارِمِthe sharp sword الخَذِمِkeen-cutting
رَدَّ الصِقالِ بِماءِ الصارِمِ الخَذِمِ
You restored my face's lustre upon its page,
You gave my face its sheen again that day,
as polishing restores the sheen of a keen, cutting sword.
As burnished steel regains its shine, they say.
وَماand not أُباليI care وَخَيرُand the best of القَولِspeech أَصدَقُهُits truest
وَما أُبالي وَخَيرُ القَولِ أَصدَقُهُ
حَقَنتَyou preserved ليfor me ماءَthe dignity of وَجهيmy face أَوor حَقَنتَyou spared دَميmy blood
حَقَنتَ لي ماءَ وَجهي أَو حَقَنتَ دَمي
It matters not to me—and the best words are the truest—
Good speech is truth; the best whate'er betide;
whether you preserved the lustre of my face or spared my blood.
You spilled my face's water or my blood.
Sol 6.1