أَكابدI suffer مِنfrom برحagonizing pain النَوىseparation ماwhat أَكابدُI suffer
أَكابد مِن برح النَوى ما أَكابدُ
وَأَنيand indeed I عَلَيهاover it لَوif يفيدwould avail لواجِدُam indeed grieving
وَأَني عَلَيها لَو يفيد لواجِدُ
I suffer what I suffer from the agony of separation;
The pangs of longing since we parted I've endured,
And I grieve over it—if grieving could avail.
Yet my longing for you no solace affords.
أَئنُّI moan مِنfrom الشَوقlonging المُبرحagonizing وَالجَوىand burning heartache
أَئنُّ مِن الشَوق المُبرح وَالجَوى
أَنينa moan عَليلan invalid أَسلَمتُهُhave forsaken him العَوائِدُwomen visiting the sick
أَنين عَليل أَسلَمتُهُ العَوائِدُ
I moan from agonizing longing and burning heartache,
I pine from yearning and heartfelt desire,
The moan of an invalid forsaken by his women visitors.
I moan like one sick, whom fate won't conspire,
كَأَنَّas though بِقَلبيin my heart نارa fire سَفرtravelers تَشبهاkindle it
كَأَنَّ بِقَلبي نار سَفر تَشبها
بِنشزon a rise مِنof الأَرضthe earth الرِياحthe winds الصَوارِدُchill
بِنشز مِن الأَرض الرِياح الصَوارِدُ
As though in my heart were a travelers' fire, kindled
As if my heart's a hearth aflame fed by sighs,
On a rise of ground by chill winds.
That stir like gusts making embers arise.
يَكادُalmost يَشفbecomes transparent الجسمthe body عَنهاto reveal it مِنfrom الضَناwasting sickness
يَكادُ يَشف الجسم عَنها مِن الضَنا
فَيبصرهاso sees it مَحسوسةperceptible مِنwhoever يُشاهِدُlooks
فَيبصرها مَحسوسة مِن يُشاهِدُ
My body, wasted by sickness, almost lets it show through,
My body is gaunt from the pain and distress,
So whoever looks can see it as something tangible.
That others can see, when my state they assess.
أَبيتُI spend the night عَليلاًailing لاnot أَرىI see لِيَfor me عائِداًa visitor to the sick
أَبيتُ عَليلاً لا أَرى لِيَ عائِداً
سِوىexcept زَفراتsighs فيin الحَشاthe breast تَتَصاعَدُrise
سِوى زَفرات في الحَشا تَتَصاعَدُ
I spend the night ailing, with no visitor to be seen,
Sleepless I lie there's no comfort for me,
Save sighs that rise within my breast.
Just groans through the night, my sad state they relay.
وَأَنيand indeed I لَمُشتاقam indeed longing إِلىfor الأَهلthe family وَالحمىand the homeland
وَأَني لَمُشتاق إِلى الأَهل وَالحمى
وَلَكنand yet إِلىfor مَولايَmy lord شَوقيَmy longing زائِدُgreater
وَلَكن إِلى مَولايَ شَوقيَ زائِدُ
And indeed I long for my family and homeland,
I long for my family, clan and abode,
But my longing for my lord is greater still.
But stronger by far is my longing for God.
صَفاis clear وَدَناour affection مِماof what يَكدرclouds غَيرُهُother than it
صَفا وَدَنا مِما يَكدر غَيرُهُ
فَماso there is no ثمَّthere فيin هَذاthis البعادdistance تَباعدُestrangement
فَما ثمَّ في هَذا البعاد تَباعدُ
Our affection is clear of what clouds other affections,
Joy and nearness, no other compares,
So there is no estrangement in this distance.
No distance divides, this exile He shares.
لَئِنif indeed كُنتَyou were قَدalready ساعَدتَنيyou helped me فيin ملمةa calamity
لَئِن كُنتَ قَد ساعَدتَني في ملمة
رَمانيstruck me بِهاwith it الدَهرTime الظَلومdeeply unjust المُعاندُobstinate
رَماني بِها الدَهر الظَلوم المُعاندُ
If indeed you have helped me in a calamity
Whence storms would dishearten, you lent me your strength,
That unjust, obstinate Time hurled upon me,
Though time in its fury sought to go to great lengths.
فَمثلكَthen one like you مَذخورheld in reserve لَهاfor it وَمُؤملand looked to with hope
فَمثلكَ مَذخور لَها وَمُؤمل
وَمثلكَand one like you لِلأَحرارfor the freeborn فيهِin it مُساعِدُa helper
وَمثلكَ لِلأَحرار فيهِ مُساعِدُ
Then one like you is held in reserve for it, and looked to with hope,
A help you will prove when foes give me strife,
And one like you helps the freeborn in such times.
To the noble your aid brings fullness of life.
وَماand not زالَceased يُبدوappear مِنكَfrom you ليto me مُتطولاًshowing generosity
وَما زالَ يُبدو مِنكَ لي مُتطولاً
عَوارفfavors لَيسَتare not تَنقَضيcome to an end وَمَحامدُand praiseworthy deeds
عَوارف لَيسَت تَنقَضي وَمَحامدُ
And from you, in your generosity, there have always come to me
Still you show a kindness that never grows old,
Favors without end and deeds worthy of praise.
Your graces exceed what can ever be told.
وَماand not كانَwas منيon my part بِاِختيارby choice فراقكمparting from you
وَما كانَ مني بِاِختيار فراقكم
وَلَكنَّand yet رَيبvicissitudes الدَهرof Time ماthat which لاnot يُعانِدُis resisted
وَلَكنَّ رَيب الدَهر ما لا يُعانِدُ
And my parting from you was not of my own choosing,
Our parting was not of my own free accord,
But the vicissitudes of Time cannot be resisted.
But what will of fate can resist or be ignored?
بِأَدنىat the least الَّذيof what أَلقاهُI endure it مِنof لاعجsearing الأَسىsorrow
بِأَدنى الَّذي أَلقاهُ مِن لاعج الأَسى
تَمورheave وَتندكand crumble الجِبالthe mountains الرَواكِدُimmovable
تَمور وَتندك الجِبال الرَواكِدُ
The least of the searing sorrow I endure
The least of the burdens of sorrow it brought,
Would make the immovable mountains heave and crumble.
Would shake mountains firm that centuries wrought.
وَلَوand if بحتُI spoke openly بِالشَكوىin complaint لرقتwould surely soften لَهاat it العِدىthe foes
وَلَو بحتُ بِالشَكوى لرقت لَها العِدى
وَذابَتand would melt لَهاat it صمhard الحَصاpebbles وَالجلامدُand boulders
وَذابَت لَها صم الحَصا وَالجلامدُ
And if I voiced my complaint, even foes would soften at it,
And if I should voice the complaints in my soul,
And hard pebbles and boulders would melt at it.
Even rocks would be melted, iron rend and extol.
وَمَهماand however much اِشتَكَيتI complain of الدَهرTime مِنbecause of جورthe injustice صَرفِهِof its reversals
وَمَهما اِشتَكَيت الدَهر مِن جور صَرفِهِ
فَأَنيstill, indeed I لَماfor what أَولانيَhas bestowed on me اللَهGod حامدُthankful
فَأَني لَما أَولانيَ اللَه حامدُ
And however much I complain of Time for its cruel reversals,
Yet whatever injustice time's vicissitudes give,
I am still thankful for what God has bestowed on me.
I'm resigned, God granted, I'm blessed that I live.
Sol 6.1