سَلَّتْunsheathed جُفُونُكَyour eyelids ليfor me سُيوفَswords حِدَادِsharp
سَلَّتْ جُفُونُكَ لي سُيوفَ حِدَادِ
فَقَتَلْنَنِيso they slew me وَلَبَسْنَand they donned ثَوْبَa robe حِدَادِmourning
فَقَتَلْنَنِي وَلَبَسْنَ ثَوْبَ حِدَادِ
Your eyelids drew sharp swords against me;
so they slew me and donned a robe of mourning.
وَطَفِقْنَand they began يُبْدِينَthey display الذُّبُولَlanguor تَصَوُّنَاin modest reserve
وَطَفِقْنَ يُبْدِينَ الذُّبُولَ تَصَوُّنَا
أَنَسَيْنَhave they forgotten? أَنَّthat دَمِيmy blood بِخَدِّكَon your cheek بَادِيvisible
أَنَسَيْنَ أَنَّ دَمِي بِخَدِّكَ بَادِي
And they began to show languor in modest reserve.
Have they forgotten that my blood is visible on your cheek?
يَاO بَدْرَfull moon تَمٍّfullness سَلْوَتيmy solace كَمَحَاقِهِlike its dark phase
يَا بَدْرَ تَمٍّ سَلْوَتي كَمَحَاقِهِ
وكَمَاand fullness (word fragment) لُهُits (word ending) وَنُمُوُّهُand its growth كَوِدَادِيlike my love
وكَمَا لُهُ وَنُمُوُّهُ كَوِدَادِي
O full moon, my solace is like its dark phase,
and its fullness and waxing are like my love.
لَوْif أَنَّthat فَرْطَexcess نُعَاسِdrowsiness جَفْنِكَyour eyelid مَانِحيgranting me
لَوْ أَنَّ فَرْطَ نُعَاسِ جَفْنِكَ مَانِحي
مَاwhat عَنْهُfrom it يَفْضُلُis left over مَاnot شَكَيْتُI complained of سُهَادِيmy sleeplessness
مَا عَنْهُ يَفْضُلُ مَا شَكَيْتُ سُهَادِي
If your eyelid's abundant drowsiness granted me
what it has to spare, I would not lament my sleeplessness.
بَرِّدْcool بِظَلْمِكَwith your saliva حَرُّthe heat ظُلْمِكَyour cruelty جَارِياًproceeding
بَرِّدْ بِظَلْمِكَ حَرُّ ظُلْمِكَ جَارِياً
فِيهِin this عَلىaccording to مَاwhat لَيْسَis not بِالمُعْتَادِcustomary
فِيهِ عَلى مَا لَيْسَ بِالمُعْتَادِ
Cool your cruelty's heat with your saliva, acting
in this in a way that is not customary.
أَوَor فَارْتَجِعْthen reclaim قَلْبِيmy heart الذَّيِwhich أَعْدَيْتَنيyou infected me
أَوَ فَارْتَجِعْ قَلْبِي الذَّيِ أَعْدَيْتَني
فِيهِin it كَمِثْلِjust like قَوَامِكَyour figure المَيَّادِswaying
فِيهِ كَمِثْلِ قَوَامِكَ المَيَّادِ
Or reclaim my heart, where you have infected me
with a sway like that of your swaying form.
وَعَجِبْتُand I marveled مِنْat وِرْدِcoming to water العِطَاشِthe thirsty بِمْنَهَلٍat a watering place
وَعَجِبْتُ مِنْ وِرْدِ العِطَاشِ بِمْنَهَلٍ
وَعُيُونُهُand its springs مِنْfrom أَعْيُنِthe eyes الوُرَّادِthose coming to drink
وَعُيُونُهُ مِنْ أَعْيُنِ الوُرَّادِ
And I marveled at the thirsty coming to a watering place,
while its springs flow from the eyes of those who come to drink.
أَرْسَلْتُI sent طَرْفِيmy gaze نَحْوَtoward خَدِّكَyour cheek رَائِداًas a scout
أَرْسَلْتُ طَرْفِي نَحْوَ خَدِّكَ رَائِداً
فَعَلِمْتُso I learned كَيْفَhow خِيَانَةَbetrayal الرُّوَادِthe scouts
فَعَلِمْتُ كَيْفَ خِيَانَةَ الرُّوَادِ
I sent my gaze toward your cheek as a scout;
so I learned what scouts' betrayal is like.
قَالُواthey said القَضِيبُthe bough عَلىupon الكَثِيبِthe sand dune نَظِيرُهُhis equal
قَالُوا القَضِيبُ عَلى الكَثِيبِ نَظِيرُهُ
أَرَأَيْتَhave you seen? كَيْفَhow تَقَوُّلُfabrication الحُسَّادِthe envious
أَرَأَيْتَ كَيْفَ تَقَوُّلُ الحُسَّادِ
They said, 'A bough upon a dune is his equal.'
Have you seen how the envious fabricate lies?
مَنْwho لِيfor me لَوif only أنَّكَthat you كَالقَضِيبِlike a bough تَنَالُهُreaches it
مَنْ لِي لَو أنَّكَ كَالقَضِيبِ تَنَالُهُ
كَفِّيmy hand وَيُصْبحُand comes to be زَهْرُهُits blossom بِوِسَادِيon my pillow
كَفِّي وَيُصْبحُ زَهْرُهُ بِوِسَادِي
Who will grant my wish? If only you were like a bough, within reach
of my hand, its blossom lying on my pillow!
قَالَsaid العَذُولُthe reproacher أَرَىI regard حَلاَوَةَthe sweetness وَعْدِهِhis promise
قَالَ العَذُولُ أَرَى حَلاَوَةَ وَعْدِهِ
لِخِدَاعِهِbecause of his deceit ضَرْباًa kind مِنَof الإِيعَادِthreatening
لِخِدَاعِهِ ضَرْباً مِنَ الإِيعَادِ
The reproacher said, 'I regard the sweetness of his promise,
because of his deceit, as a kind of threat,
كَالعُودِlike a lute يَضْرِبُplays فيin فُؤَادٍa heart فَارغٍempty
كَالعُودِ يَضْرِبُ في فُؤَادٍ فَارغٍ
فَتَأَسَّso take comfort لَوif أَحْتَالُI contrive a way بِالإِنْشَادِthrough reciting verse
فَتَأَسَّ لَو أَحْتَالُ بِالإِنْشَادِ
like a lute sounding in an empty heart—
so take comfort, if I contrive a way through reciting verse.'
لاَdo not تَعْذِلَنِّيreproach me مَاnot فُؤَادُكَyour heart فِيin يَديmy hand
لاَ تَعْذِلَنِّي مَا فُؤَادُكَ فِي يَدي
صَبْراًpatience! وَلَمْand not يَكُwas فيin يَدَيْكَyour hands فُؤَادِيmy heart
صَبْراً وَلَمْ يَكُ في يَدَيْكَ فُؤَادِي
Do not reproach me: your heart is not in my hand;
patience! Nor was my heart in your hands.
وَتَنحْand draw back عَنْfrom زَفَراتِthe sighs أَنْفَاسِيmy breaths التِّيwhich
وَتَنحْ عَنْ زَفَراتِ أَنْفَاسِي التِّي
لَوْلاَwere it not for الدُّمُوعُthe tears لأَحْرَقَتْwould surely have burned عُوَّادِيmy sickbed visitors
لَوْلاَ الدُّمُوعُ لأَحْرَقَتْ عُوَّادِي
And draw back from the sighs of my breath, which,
were it not for tears, would have burned my visitors.
Sol 6.1