لِأَيِّfor which حَبيبٍbeloved يَحسُنُis fitting الرَأيُgood opinion وَالوُدُّand affection
لِأَيِّ حَبيبٍ يَحسُنُ الرَأيُ وَالوُدُّ
وَأَكثَرُand most of هَذاthese الناسِpeople لَيسَis not لَهُfor him عَهدُfidelity
وَأَكثَرُ هَذا الناسِ لَيسَ لَهُ عَهدُ
Which beloved deserves esteem and affection,
For what beloved is good advice and affection
When most of these people keep no pledge?
When most people have no loyalty?
أَرىI see ذَمِّيَmy blaming الأَيّامَthe days ماsomething that لاnot يَضِرُّهاharms them
أَرى ذَمِّيَ الأَيّامَ ما لا يَضِرُّها
فَهَلso will دافِعٌward off عَنّيfrom me نَوائِبَهاtheir calamities الحَمدُpraise
فَهَل دافِعٌ عَنّي نَوائِبَها الحَمدُ
I see that my blaming the days does them no harm;
I see the days slandering me with no harm to them
So will praise ward off their calamities from me?
Is there a defender against their misfortunes? Praise be!
وَماand not هَذِهِthis الدُنياworld لَناto us بِمُطيعَةٍat all obedient
وَما هَذِهِ الدُنيا لَنا بِمُطيعَةٍ
وَليسَand there is not لِخَلقٍfor any mortal مِنfrom مُداراتِهاhumoring it بُدُّany escape
وَليسَ لِخَلقٍ مِن مُداراتِها بُدُّ
This world is not obedient to us,
This world does not obey us
And no mortal can avoid humoring it.
And no being can escape its cycles
تَحوزُit gathers المَعاليhigh honors وَالعَبيدُand slaves لِعاجِزٍfor an inept man
تَحوزُ المَعالي وَالعَبيدُ لِعاجِزٍ
وَيَخدُمُand serves فيهاin it نَفسَهُhimself البَطَلُthe hero الفَردُpeerless
وَيَخدُمُ فيها نَفسَهُ البَطَلُ الفَردُ
It gathers high honors and slaves for an inept man,
Glories are seized by the lowly
While the peerless hero must serve himself in it.
And the unique hero serves himself in it
أَكُلُّis every قَريبٍkinsman ليto me بَعيدٌdistant بِوِدِّهِin his affection
أَكُلُّ قَريبٍ لي بَعيدٌ بِوِدِّهِ
وَكُلُّand every صَديقٍfriend بَينَbetween أَضلُعِهِhis ribs حِقدُa grudge
وَكُلُّ صَديقٍ بَينَ أَضلُعِهِ حِقدُ
Is every kinsman of mine distant in affection,
Every relative is distant in affection
And every friend harboring a grudge between his ribs?
And every friend conceals hatred in his heart
وَلِلَّهِand, by God! قَلبٌa heart لاnot يَبُلُّquenches غَليلَهُits burning thirst
وَلِلَّهِ قَلبٌ لا يَبُلُّ غَليلَهُ
وِصالٌunion وَلاand not يُلهيهِdistracts it عَنfrom خِلِّهِits dear friend وَعدُa promise
وِصالٌ وَلا يُلهيهِ عَن خِلِّهِ وَعدُ
What a heart, by God! Its burning thirst is not quenched
Yet God has a heart impervious to sorrow
By union, nor does a promise distract it from its dear friend.
With continual bliss, undistracted by adversity
يُكَلِّفُنيit bids me أَنto أَطلُبَseek العِزَّglory بِالمُنىthrough wishes
يُكَلِّفُني أَن أَطلُبَ العِزَّ بِالمُنى
وَأَينَand where is العُلىhigh attainment إِنif لَمnot يُساعِدنِيَhelps me الجَدُّfortune
وَأَينَ العُلى إِن لَم يُساعِدنِيَ الجَدُّ
It bids me seek glory through wishes,
He commands me to seek glory through tribulation
But where is high attainment if fortune does not help me?
But where is sublimity if effort does not assist me?
أَحِنُّI yearn وَماand what أَهواهُI love رُمحٌa spear وَصارِمٌand a sharp sword
أَحِنُّ وَما أَهواهُ رُمحٌ وَصارِمٌ
وَسابِغَةٌand full-length mail زُعفٌsupple وَذوand one possessing مَيعَةٍvigor نَهدُstout-built
وَسابِغَةٌ زُعفٌ وَذو مَيعَةٍ نَهدُ
I yearn, and what I love is a spear and a sharp sword,
I yearn, though what I love is a lance and a sword
And full-length, supple mail, and a vigorous, stout-built steed.
A curled lock and a breast of delicate slope
فَياso alas لِيَfor me مِنfor قَلبٍa heart مُعَنّىًtormented بِهِby it الحَشاthe inward parts
فَيا لِيَ مِن قَلبٍ مُعَنّىً بِهِ الحَشا
وَياand alas لِيَfor me مِنfor دَمعٍtears قَريحٍwounded بِهِby them الخَدُّthe cheek
وَيا لِيَ مِن دَمعٍ قَريحٍ بِهِ الخَدُّ
Alas for a heart that torments my inward parts,
Oh what a heart laden with love!
And alas for tears that wound my cheek!
Oh what tears staining my cheek!
أُريدُI desire مِنَfrom الأَيّامِthe days كُلَّevery عَظيمَةٍgreat achievement
أُريدُ مِنَ الأَيّامِ كُلَّ عَظيمَةٍ
وَماand what بَينَbetween أَضلاعيmy ribs لَهاfor it أَسَدٌa lion وَردُtawny
وَما بَينَ أَضلاعي لَها أَسَدٌ وَردُ
I desire from the days every great achievement,
I want every greatness from the days
And what lies between my ribs is a tawny lion ready for it.
Yet no lion resides between my ribs
وَلَيسَand is not فَتىًa true warrior مَنone whom عاقَprevented عَنfrom حَملِbearing سَيفِهِhis sword
وَلَيسَ فَتىً مَن عاقَ عَن حَملِ سَيفِهِ
إِسارٌcaptivity وَحَلّاهُand held him back عَنِfrom الطَلَبِthe quest القِدُّa rawhide thong
إِسارٌ وَحَلّاهُ عَنِ الطَلَبِ القِدُّ
No true warrior is one whom, from bearing his sword,
No man who shuns carrying his sword
Captivity has barred, and rawhide bonds have held back from the quest.
A wrap restraining him from ambition, is a youth
إِذاif كانَis لاnot يَمضيcuts through الحُسامُthe keen sword بِنَفسِهِby itself
إِذا كانَ لا يَمضي الحُسامُ بِنَفسِهِ
فَلِلضارِبِthen to the striker الماضيresolute بِقائِمِهِwith its hilt الحَدُّthe edge
فَلِلضارِبِ الماضي بِقائِمِهِ الحَدُّ
If the keen sword does not cut by itself,
When the sword itself does not strike
Then its edge belongs to the resolute striker wielding its hilt.
The fault lies with the wielder, not the blade
وَحَولِيَand around me مِنamong هَذاthese الأَنامِpeople عِصابَةٌa band
وَحَولِيَ مِن هَذا الأَنامِ عِصابَةٌ
تَوَدُّدُهاits affection يَخفىis hidden وَأَضغانُهاand its grudges تَبدوappear
تَوَدُّدُها يَخفى وَأَضغانُها تَبدو
Around me is a band from among these people,
Around me are bands
Whose affection is hidden, while their grudges show.
Whose affection is hidden while their hatred appears
يَسُرُّgladdens الفَتىthe young man دَهرٌtime وَقَدand already كانَhad ساءَهُdistressed him
يَسُرُّ الفَتى دَهرٌ وَقَد كانَ ساءَهُ
وَتَخدُمُهُand serve him الأَيّامُthe days وَهوَwhile he لَهاto them عَبدُa slave
وَتَخدُمُهُ الأَيّامُ وَهوَ لَها عَبدُ
Time gladdens a young man, though it had once distressed him,
A man may live happy for a time
And the days serve him, while he is their slave.
Though days once pained him, now he's their slave
وَلاand no مالَwealth إِلّاexcept ماwhat كَسَبتَyou earned بِنَيلِهِby obtaining it
وَلا مالَ إِلّا ما كَسَبتَ بِنَيلِهِ
ثَناءًpraise وَلاand no مالٌwealth لِمَنfor one who لاnot لَهُhas مَجدُglory
ثَناءً وَلا مالٌ لِمَن لا لَهُ مَجدُ
And there is no wealth except that by whose acquisition you earn
No wealth except through gaining it
Praise; and there is no wealth for one without glory.
No riches for one without glory
وَماand not العَيشُlife إِلّاexcept أَنthat تُصاحِبَyou accompany فِتيَةًyoung men
وَما العَيشُ إِلّا أَن تُصاحِبَ فِتيَةً
طَواعِنَspear-fighters لاnot يَعنيهِمُconcerns them النَحسُill fortune وَالسَعدُand good fortune
طَواعِنَ لا يَعنيهِمُ النَحسُ وَالسَعدُ
Life is nothing but keeping company with young men,
Life is naught but joining bold comrades
Spear-fighters whom ill fortune and good fortune do not concern.
Heedless of misfortune or blessing
إِذاwhen طَرِبواthey are stirred يَوماًone day إِلىtoward العِزِّglory شَمَّرواthey gird themselves
إِذا طَرِبوا يَوماً إِلى العِزِّ شَمَّروا
وَإِنand if نُدِبواthey are summoned يَوماًone day إِلىto غارَةٍa raid جَدّواthey strive earnestly
وَإِن نُدِبوا يَوماً إِلى غارَةٍ جَدّوا
When glory stirs them one day, they gird themselves,
Roused one day to honor, they hasten
And when summoned one day to a raid, they strive in earnest.
Called another day to raid, they race
وَكَمand how many لِيَfor me فيon يَومِthe day of الثَوِيَّةِal-Thawiyya رَقدَةٌa slumber
وَكَم لِيَ في يَومِ الثَوِيَّةِ رَقدَةٌ
يُضاجِعُنيlies beside me فيهاduring it المُهَنَّدُthe Indian-forged sword وَالغِمدُand the scabbard
يُضاجِعُني فيها المُهَنَّدُ وَالغِمدُ
How many a slumber was mine on the day of al-Thawiyya,
How often on a day of rest
With the Indian-forged sword and its scabbard lying beside me.
Sword and scabbard lay me down to sleep
إِذاwhen طَلَبَsought الأَعداءُthe enemies إِثريmy trail بِبَلدَةٍin a town
إِذا طَلَبَ الأَعداءُ إِثري بِبَلدَةٍ
نَجَوتُI escaped وَقَدwhile already غَطّىhad covered عَلىover أَثَريmy tracks البُردُthe cloak
نَجَوتُ وَقَد غَطّى عَلى أَثَري البُردُ
When enemies sought my trail in a town,
If enemies seek me in a land
I escaped, my cloak having covered my tracks.
I escape, with only their dust on my trail
وَلَوand if شاءَhad wished رُمحيmy spear سَدَّwould have blocked كُلَّevery ثَنِيَّةٍmountain pass
وَلَو شاءَ رُمحي سَدَّ كُلَّ ثَنِيَّةٍ
تُطالِعُنيcome into my view فيهاin it المَغاويرُthe raiders وَالجُردُand sleek steeds
تُطالِعُني فيها المَغاويرُ وَالجُردُ
Had my spear wished, it would have blocked every mountain pass
Had my lance willed, it would bar each pass
Where raiders and sleek steeds came into my view.
Where brigands and horsemen watch me
نَصَلناwe emerged عَلىupon الأَكوارِcamel saddles مِنfrom عَجزِthe last part of لَيلَةٍa night
نَصَلنا عَلى الأَكوارِ مِن عَجزِ لَيلَةٍ
تَرامىtossed about بِناwith us فيin صَدرِهاits first part القورُthe hills وَالوَهدُand the hollows
تَرامى بِنا في صَدرِها القورُ وَالوَهدُ
We emerged on camel saddles from the tail end of a night,
We raided at the dark of night
In whose first hours hills and hollows had tossed us about.
Driving the finest steeds into its breast
طَرَدناwe drove إِلَيهاtoward it خُفَّthe padded foot of كُلِّevery نَجيبَةٍnoble she-camel
طَرَدنا إِلَيها خُفَّ كُلِّ نَجيبَةٍ
عَليهاupon her غُلامٌa youth لاnot يُمارِسُهُassails him الوَجدُlonging
عَليها غُلامٌ لا يُمارِسُهُ الوَجدُ
Toward it we drove the padded foot of every noble she-camel,
As though stars of night beneath their saddles
Bearing a youth whom longing does not assail.
Plunged into the darkness on a moonless night
وَدُسناand we trod بِأَيديwith the forefeet of العيسِthe pale camels لَيلاًa night كَأَنَّماas though
وَدُسنا بِأَيدي العيسِ لَيلاً كَأَنَّما
تَشابَهَbecame alike فيin ظَلمائِهِits darkness الشيبُgray-haired men وَالمَردُand beardless youths
تَشابَهَ في ظَلمائِهِ الشيبُ وَالمَردُ
With the forefeet of pale camels we trod a night, as though
Each proud son repeats the stab
Gray-haired men and beardless youths were alike in its darkness.
As though the blood of foes is honey in his mouth
أَلاah لَيتَif only شِعريmy knowing هَلwhether تُبَلِّغُنيbring me to my goal المُنىwishes
أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل تُبَلِّغُني المُنى
وَتَلقىand meet بِيَwith me الأَعداءَthe enemies أَحصِنَةٌhorses جُردُsleek
وَتَلقى بِيَ الأَعداءَ أَحصِنَةٌ جُردُ
Ah, would that I knew: will my wishes bring me to my goal,
He strikes until his sword lacks strength
And will sleek horses bear me to meet the enemies?
And stabs until his arm lacks vigor
جِيادٌnoble steeds وَقَدwhile already سَدَّhas filled الغُبارُthe dust فُروجَهاtheir gaps
جِيادٌ وَقَد سَدَّ الغُبارُ فُروجَها
تَروحُset out at evening إِلىto طَعنِspearing القَبائِلِthe tribes أَوor تَغدوset out at morning
تَروحُ إِلى طَعنِ القَبائِلِ أَو تَغدو
Noble steeds, the dust having filled the gaps between them,
An exile, desiring only his might
They ride out at evening or morning to spear the tribes.
Speaking just of what glory grants
خِفافٌlight-footed عَلىon إِثرِthe trail of الطَريدَةِthe quarry فيin الفَلاthe wilderness
خِفافٌ عَلى إِثرِ الطَريدَةِ في الفَلا
إِذاwhen ماemphatic particle جَتِunclear as written الرَمضاءُthe scorching ground وَاِختَلَطَand became tangled الطَردُthe chase
إِذا ما جَتِ الرَمضاءُ وَاِختَلَطَ الطَردُ
Light-footed on the quarry's trail in the wilderness,
Fearing only his lance's swiftness
When the scorching ground [verb unclear] and the chase grows tangled,
Seeking only what lions quest for
كَأَنَّas though نُجومَthe stars of اللَيلِthe night تَحتَbeneath سُروجِهاtheir saddles
كَأَنَّ نُجومَ اللَيلِ تَحتَ سُروجِها
تَهاوىtumble down عَلىupon الظَلماءِthe darkness وَاللَيلُwhile the night مُسوَدُّpitch-black
تَهاوى عَلى الظَلماءِ وَاللَيلُ مُسوَدُّ
As though the stars of night beneath their saddles
When an Arab is not like his sword
Were tumbling into the darkness, while the night is pitch-black.
Fierce against foes, nobility disowns him
يُعيدُrenews عَلَيهاupon them الطَعنَspear-thrusts كُلُّevery اِبنِson of هِمَّةٍhigh resolve
يُعيدُ عَلَيها الطَعنَ كُلُّ اِبنِ هِمَّةٍ
كَأَنَّas though دَمَthe blood of الأَعداءِthe enemies فيin فَمِهِhis mouth شَهدُhoney
كَأَنَّ دَمَ الأَعداءِ في فَمِهِ شَهدُ
Every son of high resolve renews his spear-thrusts from their backs,
No east or west was too cramped
As though the enemies' blood were honey in his mouth.
Except the hide too cramped for himself
يُضارِبُtrades sword-blows حَتّىuntil ماnot لِصارِمِهِfor his sharp sword قِوىًany strength
يُضارِبُ حَتّى ما لِصارِمِهِ قِوىً
وَيَطعَنُand thrusts حَتّىuntil ماnot لِذابِلِهِfor his slender spear جَهدُany force
وَيَطعَنُ حَتّى ما لِذابِلِهِ جَهدُ
He trades sword-blows until his sharp sword has no strength,
When a man's wealth dwindles, so do his friends
And thrusts until his slender spear has no force left.
Forsaking him along with charm and affection
تَغَرَّبَhe went abroad لاnot مُستَحقِباًcarrying as baggage غَيرَother than قوتِهِhis sustenance
تَغَرَّبَ لا مُستَحقِباً غَيرَ قوتِهِ
وَلاand not قائِلاًspeaking إِلّاexcept لِماfor what يَهَبُbestows المَجدُglory
وَلا قائِلاً إِلّا لِما يَهَبُ المَجدُ
He went abroad, carrying nothing behind him but his sustenance,
To glance away from every lovely sight
And speaking only for what bestows glory.
Distracted by estrangement and distance
وَلاand not خائِفاًfearing إِلّاexcept جَريرَةَthe offense of رُمحِهِhis spear
وَلا خائِفاً إِلّا جَريرَةَ رُمحِهِ
وَلاand not طالِباًseeking إِلّاexcept الَّذيwhat تَطلُبُseek الأُسدُthe lions
وَلا طالِباً إِلّا الَّذي تَطلُبُ الأُسدُ
Fearing nothing but the consequences of his spear,
Why should I accept the injustice of the days?
And seeking only what lions seek.
They know I'm neither coward nor degenerate
إِذاif عَرَبيٌّan Arab لَمnot يَكُنis مِثلَlike سَيفِهِhis sword
إِذا عَرَبيٌّ لَم يَكُن مِثلَ سَيفِهِ
مَضاءًin cutting force عَلىagainst الأَعداءِthe enemies أَنكَرَهُdisowns him الجَدُّthe grandsire
مَضاءً عَلى الأَعداءِ أَنكَرَهُ الجَدُّ
If an Arab is not like his sword
Men's eyes avoid me out of awe
In cutting force against the enemies, his grandsire disowns him.
As sore eyes avoid the dawn's sunshine
وَماand not ضاقَbecame too narrow عَنُهto contain him كُلُّevery شَرقٍeast وَمَغرِبٍand west
وَما ضاقَ عَنُه كُلُّ شَرقٍ وَمَغرِبٍ
مِنَof الأَرضِthe earth إِلّاunless ضاقَbecame too narrow عَنto contain نَفسِهِhis soul الجِلدُthe skin
مِنَ الأَرضِ إِلّا ضاقَ عَن نَفسِهِ الجِلدُ
No man finds every east and west too narrow
Dune ridges crossed me, their smooth slopes
Across the earth, unless his skin is too narrow for his soul.
Beyond the reach of grazing beasts or flowers
إِذاwhen قَلَّdwindles مالُthe wealth of المَرءِthe man قَلَّdwindle صَديقُهُhis friends
إِذا قَلَّ مالُ المَرءِ قَلَّ صَديقُهُ
وَفارَقَهُand leaves him ذاكَthat التَحَنُّنُtenderness وَالوُدُّand affection
وَفارَقَهُ ذاكَ التَحَنُّنُ وَالوُدُّ
When a man's wealth dwindles, his friends dwindle,
Their feet repel each other in the desert
And that tenderness and affection leave him.
To where glory, struggle and strife grow
وَأَصبَحَand he comes to يُغضيlower الطَرفَthe gaze عَنfrom كُلِّevery مَنظَرٍsight
وَأَصبَحَ يُغضي الطَرفَ عَن كُلِّ مَنظَرٍ
أَنيقٍbeautiful وَيُلهيهِand preoccupies him التَغَرُّبُliving abroad وَالبُعدُand distance
أَنيقٍ وَيُلهيهِ التَغَرُّبُ وَالبُعدُ
He comes to lower his gaze from every sight
She came to you with slackened reins
Of beauty, while life abroad and distance preoccupy him.
A rider who disappeared from sight
فَماso what ليhave I وَلِلأَيّامِand with the days أَرضىI accept بِجَورِهاtheir injustice
فَما لي وَلِلأَيّامِ أَرضى بِجَورِها
وَتَعلَمُand they know أَنّيthat I لاnot جَبانٌa coward وَلاand not وَغدُa base man
وَتَعلَمُ أَنّي لا جَبانٌ وَلا وَغدُ
What have I to do with the days, that I accept their injustice,
One like you, whose house never lacks company
When they know I am neither coward nor a base man?
With guests departing and arriving
تَغاضىlook away عُيونُthe eyes of الناسِpeople عَنّيfrom me مَهابَةًin awe
تَغاضى عُيونُ الناسِ عَنّي مَهابَةً
كَماas تَتَّقيshun شَمسَthe sun of الضُحىmidmorning الأَعيُنُthe eyes الرُمدُsore
كَما تَتَّقي شَمسَ الضُحى الأَعيُنُ الرُمدُ
People's eyes turn away from me in awe,
So grasp the glory you've earned
As sore eyes shun the midmorning sun.
Your share is this honor and noble stock
تَخَطَّتstepped across بِيَwith me الكُثبانَthe dunes جَرداءُa sleek mare شَطبَةٌslender
تَخَطَّت بِيَ الكُثبانَ جَرداءُ شَطبَةٌ
فَلاso neither الرَعيُgrazing دانٍnear مِنto خُطاهاher steps وَلاnor الوِردُwatering
فَلا الرَعيُ دانٍ مِن خُطاها وَلا الوِردُ
A sleek, slender mare carried me across the dunes,
A father you are, higher in merit and sublime
With neither grazing nor water near her path.
More resolute, though fire birthed the spark
تُدافِعُdrive forward رِجلاهاher hind legs يَدَيهاher forelegs عَنِaway from الفَلاthe wilderness
تُدافِعُ رِجلاها يَدَيها عَنِ الفَلا
إِلىto حَيثُwhere يُنمىis fostered العِزُّhonor وَالجَدُّand fortune وَالجِدُّand earnest effort
إِلى حَيثُ يُنمى العِزُّ وَالجَدُّ وَالجِدُّ
Her hind legs drive her forelegs out of the wilderness,
No lightning and thunder your peer
Toward where honor, fortune, and earnest endeavor grow.
Whose emblem is the white and spears
فَجاءَتكَso she came to you وَرهاءَheedless العِنانِof the reins بِفارِسٍwith a horseman
فَجاءَتكَ وَرهاءَ العِنانِ بِفارِسٍ
تَلَفَّتَhe looked back حَتّىuntil غابَvanished عَنfrom عَينِهِhis sight نَجدُNajd
تَلَفَّتَ حَتّى غابَ عَن عَينِهِ نَجدُ
So she came to you, heedless of the reins, bearing a horseman
How many gashes you've struck in the enemy's chest
Who kept looking back until Najd vanished from his sight.
Dyeing your lance crimson thrust after thrust
وَمِثلُكَand one like you مَنis one whose لاnot تُوحِشُleaves desolate الرَكبَthe caravan دارُهُhis home
وَمِثلُكَ مَن لا تُوحِشُ الرَكبَ دارُهُ
وَلاand no نازِلٌone departing عَنهاfrom it إِذاwhen نَزَلَarrives الوَفدُthe delegation
وَلا نازِلٌ عَنها إِذا نَزَلَ الوَفدُ
A man like you has a home that never leaves travelers desolate,
Above the warring din, the blow of one raging
Nor does anyone leave it when a delegation arrives.
Nearly causes the Yemeni sword to ignite
فَياso O آخِذاًone taking مِنfrom مَجدِهِhis glory ماwhat اِستَحَقَّهُdeserved it
فَيا آخِذاً مِن مَجدِهِ ما اِستَحَقَّهُ
نَصيبُكَyour share هَذاthis العِزِّhonor وَالحَسَبُand nobility العِدُّancient
نَصيبُكَ هَذا العِزِّ وَالحَسَبُ العِدُّ
O you who take from his glory what is your due,
Some men wish I were silenced
Your share is this honor and ancient noble lineage.
Were it not for our feud, they would not wish what they do
أَبٌa father أَنتَyou أَعلىhigher مِنهُthan him فيin الفَضلِexcellence وَالعُلىand high standing
أَبٌ أَنتَ أَعلى مِنهُ في الفَضلِ وَالعُلى
وَأَمضىand more forceful يَداًof hand وَالنارُand fire والِدُهاits parent زَندُa fire-stick
وَأَمضى يَداً وَالنارُ والِدُها زَندُ
A father—you rise above him in excellence and high standing,
I praised them but my words were seen as ugly
And are more forceful of hand; fire's parent is a fire-stick.
Oh how many necks unfit for a necklace!
وَماand not عارِضٌa cloud عُنوانُهُits sign البيضُbright swords وَالقَناand spears
وَما عارِضٌ عُنوانُهُ البيضُ وَالقَنا
أَخوthe brother of عارِضٍa cloud عُنوانُهُits sign البَرقُlightning وَالرَعدُand thunder
أَخو عارِضٍ عُنوانُهُ البَرقُ وَالرَعدُ
No cloud whose signs are bright swords and spears
I renounced though my asceticism in life had cause
Is kin to a cloud whose signs are lightning and thunder.
Unconvincing is the asceticism of unrealized hopes
وَكَمand how many لَكَfor you فيin صَدرِthe breast of العَدُوِّthe enemy مَرَشَّةٌa blood-spraying wound
وَكَم لَكَ في صَدرِ العَدُوِّ مَرَشَّةٌ
يُخَضِّبُdyes مِنهُfrom him الرَمحَthe spear مُنبَعِقٌa gushing flow وَردُcrimson
يُخَضِّبُ مِنهُ الرَمحَ مُنبَعِقٌ وَردُ
How many a spraying wound you have made in the enemy's chest,
Time and its people mean little to my heart
A crimson torrent from him dyes the spear.
Though our souls and death seek us, are lost
وَفَوقَand above شَواةِthe scalp of الذِمرِthe champion ضَربَةُa blow of ثائِرٍan avenger
وَفَوقَ شَواةِ الذِمرِ ضَربَةُ ثائِرٍ
يَكادُalmost لَهُbecause of it السَيفُthe sword اليَمانيُّYemeni يَنقَدُsplits
يَكادُ لَهُ السَيفُ اليَمانيُّ يَنقَدُ
And above a champion's scalp, an avenger's blow
I accept that the days do not kill me
At which the Yemeni sword nearly splits.
While their woes remain distinct from my peers
يَوَدُّwish رِجالٌmen أَنَّنيthat I كُنتُhad been مُفحَماًsilenced
يَوَدُّ رِجالٌ أَنَّني كُنتُ مُفحَماً
وَلَولاand were it not for خِصاميmy disputing لَمnot يَوَدّواthey would have wished الَّذيwhat وَدّواthey wished
وَلَولا خِصامي لَم يَوَدّوا الَّذي وَدّوا
Men wish that I had been silenced,
But without my disputing them, they would not have wished what they wished.
مَدَحتُهُمُI praised them فَاِستُقبِحَso was deemed ugly القَولُthe speech فيهِمُabout them
مَدَحتُهُمُ فَاِستُقبِحَ القَولُ فيهِمُ
أَلاah رُبَّmany a عُنقٍneck لاnot يَليقُbefits بِهِit عِقدُa necklace
أَلا رُبَّ عُنقٍ لا يَليقُ بِهِ عِقدُ
I praised them, and praise of them was deemed ugly:
Ah, many a neck is unfit for a necklace.
زَهِدتُI renounced وَزُهديand my renunciation فيin الحَياةِlife لِعِلَّةٍfor a reason
زَهِدتُ وَزُهدي في الحَياةِ لِعِلَّةٍ
وَحُجَّةُand the excuse of مَنone who لاnot يَبلُغُattains الأَمَلَthe hope الزُهدُrenunciation
وَحُجَّةُ مَن لا يَبلُغُ الأَمَلَ الزُهدُ
I turned away, and my renunciation of life has a cause;
Renunciation is the excuse of one who cannot attain his hopes.
وَهانَand became insignificant عَلىto قَلبيmy heart الزَمانُtime وَأَهلُهُand its people
وَهانَ عَلى قَلبي الزَمانُ وَأَهلُهُ
وَوِجدانُناand our gaining وَالمَوتُwhile death يَطلُبُناpursues us فَقدُloss
وَوِجدانُنا وَالمَوتُ يَطلُبُنا فَقدُ
Time and its people have become insignificant to my heart,
And all we gain, while death pursues us, is loss.
وَأَرضىand I am content مِنَfrom الأَيّامِthe days أَنthat لاnot تُميتَنيthey kill me
وَأَرضى مِنَ الأَيّامِ أَن لا تُميتَني
وَبيwhile upon me دونِto the exclusion of أَقرانيmy peers نَوائِبُهاtheir calamities النُكدُbaleful
وَبي دونِ أَقراني نَوائِبُها النُكدُ
And I would be content if the days did not kill me
While I alone among my peers bear their baleful calamities.
Partial English translation: 92 of 102 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1