أَرىI see شَجَراًtrees فيin السَماءِthe sky اِحتَجَبvanished from sight
أَرى شَجَراً في السَماءِ اِحتَجَب
وَشَقَّand pierced العَنانَthe clouds بِمَرأىas a sight عَجَبwondrous
وَشَقَّ العَنانَ بِمَرأى عَجَب
I see trees that vanish into the sky,
I see a tree in the sky that hid away,
And pierce the clouds—a wondrous sight.
And broke the reins in amazing display,
مَآذِنُminarets قامَتrose هُناhere أَوor هُناكَthere
مَآذِنُ قامَت هُنا أَو هُناكَ
ظَواهِرُهاtheir outer surfaces دَرَجٌsteps مِنof شَذَبpruned branch stubs
ظَواهِرُها دَرَجٌ مِن شَذَب
Minarets have risen here or there,
Minarets erected here and there,
Their exteriors are stairways of branch stubs.
Their features, steps made with great care,
وَلَيسَand not يُؤَذِّنُcall to prayer فيهاwithin them الرِجالُthe men
وَلَيسَ يُؤَذِّنُ فيها الرِجالُ
وَلَكِنand yet تَصيحُcry out عَلَيهاupon them الغُرُبthe crows
وَلَكِن تَصيحُ عَلَيها الغُرُب
And no men call to prayer within them;
No men make the call to prayer in them,
But crows cry out upon them.
But sunsets cry out as dusk makes its hymn,
وَباسِقَةٍand a towering one مِنamong بَناتِdaughters of الرِمالِthe sands
وَباسِقَةٍ مِن بَناتِ الرِمالِ
نَمَتgrew وَرَبَتand rose فيin ظِلالِthe shade of الكُثُبthe dunes
نَمَت وَرَبَت في ظِلالِ الكُثُب
And many a towering daughter of the sands
And tall ones amid daughters of sands,
Grew and rose in the shade of dunes,
Grew and nurtured in shades of dunes.
كَسارِيَةِlike the mast of الفُلكِthe ship أَوor كَالمِسَلlike an obelisk (first part)
كَسارِيَةِ الفُلكِ أَو كَالمِسَل
لَةِcompletion of 'obelisk' أَوor كَالفَنارِlike a lighthouse وَراءَbeyond العَبَبthe billows
لَةِ أَو كَالفَنارِ وَراءَ العَبَب
Like a ship's mast, or like an obelisk,
Like ship masts or caravans’ flags,
Or like a lighthouse beyond the billows.
Or lighthouses beyond the crags,
تَطولُgrows tall وَتَقصُرُand grows short خَلفَbehind الكَثيبِthe dune
تَطولُ وَتَقصُرُ خَلفَ الكَثيبِ
إِذاwhen الريحُthe wind جاءَcame بِهِwith it أَوor ذَهَبwent away
إِذا الريحُ جاءَ بِهِ أَو ذَهَب
It lengthens and shortens behind the dune
Swaying short and tall behind a dune,
When the wind brings it in or carries it away.
When the wind blows or goes immune.
تُخالُis imagined to be إِذاwhen اِتَّقَدَتblazed فيin الضُحىmidmorning
تُخالُ إِذا اِتَّقَدَت في الضُحى
وَجَرَّand dragged الأَصيلُlate afternoon عَلَيهاover it اللَهَبthe flame
وَجَرَّ الأَصيلُ عَلَيها اللَهَب
You would imagine it, when it blazes at midmorning,
Appearing like flames at dawn’s first light,
And late afternoon trails flame across it,
With dawn’s rays or clouds’ fringes bright,
وَطافَand passed عَلَيهاover it شُعاعُrays of النَهارِthe day
وَطافَ عَلَيها شُعاعُ النَهارِ
مِنَfrom الصَحوِthe clear sky أَوor مِنfrom حَواشيedges of السُحُبthe clouds
مِنَ الصَحوِ أَو مِن حَواشي السُحُب
And daylight's rays pass over it,
And Pharaoh’s summering consort on a yard,
From clear skies or the edges of clouds,
Of the palace, waiting and on guard,
وَصيفَةَa handmaiden of فِرعَونَPharaoh فيin ساحَةٍa courtyard
وَصيفَةَ فِرعَونَ في ساحَةٍ
مِنَof القَصرِthe palace واقِفَةًstanding تَرتَقِبwaiting watchfully
مِنَ القَصرِ واقِفَةً تَرتَقِب
To be Pharaoh's handmaiden in a courtyard
Adorned with carnelian necklaces fine,
Of the palace, standing in watchful wait.
Joined with pieces of gold that shine,
قَدِalready اِعتَصَبَتbound her head بِفُصوصِwith gems of العَقيقِagate
قَدِ اِعتَصَبَت بِفُصوصِ العَقيقِ
مُفَصَّلَةًinterspersed بِشُذورِwith small pieces of الذَهَبgold
مُفَصَّلَةً بِشُذورِ الذَهَب
She has bound her brow with gems of agate,
And pearls around her neck descended,
Interspersed with little pieces of gold,
And silk around her waist upended,
وَناطَتand hung قَلائِدَnecklaces of مَرجانِهاher coral
وَناطَت قَلائِدَ مَرجانِها
عَلىupon الصَدرِthe breast وَاِتَّشَحَتand draped herself بِالقَصَبin brocade
عَلى الصَدرِ وَاِتَّشَحَت بِالقَصَب
And hung her necklaces of coral
From her head to toes in a sash knitted,
Upon her breast, and draped herself in brocade;
Is this the palm tree, meadows’ prince,
وَشَدَّتand tied عَلىon ساقِهاher leg مِئزَراًa waistcloth
وَشَدَّت عَلى ساقِها مِئزَراً
تَعَقَّدَwas knotted مِنfrom رَأسِهاher head لِلذَنَبto the tail
تَعَقَّدَ مِن رَأسِها لِلذَنَب
And tied a waistcloth around her leg,
Master of fields, dunes’ bride to convince,
Knotted from her head to her tail.
Food of poor and candy of rich,
أَهَذاis this هُوَit النَخلُthe date palm مَلكُking of الرِياضِthe gardens
أَهَذا هُوَ النَخلُ مَلكُ الرِياضِ
أَميرُprince of الحُقولِthe fields عَروسُbride of العِزَبthe farmsteads
أَميرُ الحُقولِ عَروسُ العِزَب
Is this the date palm, king of gardens,
Travelers’ and emigrants’ cache.
Prince of the fields, bride of the farmsteads,
Oh palm tree of the sand, you never stint,
طَعامُfood of الفَقيرِthe poor وَحَلوىand sweets of الغَنِيِّthe rich
طَعامُ الفَقيرِ وَحَلوى الغَنِيِّ
وَزادُand provisions for المُسافِرِthe traveler وَالمُغتَرِبand the one far from home
وَزادُ المُسافِرِ وَالمُغتَرِب
Food for the poor and sweets for the rich,
Nor do palms of dust their yield stint,
And provisions for the traveler and the one far from home?
Most wondrous is how your fame waned,
فَياso, O نَخلَةَpalm of الرَملِthe sand لَمdid not تَبخَليbe stingy (you)
فَيا نَخلَةَ الرَملِ لَم تَبخَلي
وَلاnor قَصَّرَتfell short نَخَلاتُpalms of التُرَبthe soils
وَلا قَصَّرَت نَخَلاتُ التُرَب
So, O palm of the sand, you have not been miserly,
As Arab poets no more remained,
Nor have the palms of the soil fallen short.
Is it not so wrong poetry devoid,
وَأَعجَبُand I marvel كَيفَhow طَوىfolded away ذِكرَكُنَّmention of you
وَأَعجَبُ كَيفَ طَوى ذِكرَكُنَّ
وَلَمand did not يَحتَفِلpay heed شُعَراءُpoets of العَرَبthe Arabs
وَلَم يَحتَفِل شُعَراءُ العَرَب
And I marvel how they folded away mention of you,
Of describing you, books occulted.
And paid you no heed—the poets of the Arabs.
You are, in emigrants, shady and grand,
أَلَيسَis it not حَراماًa shame خُلُوُّthe emptiness of القَصاthe poems (first part)
أَلَيسَ حَراماً خُلُوُّ القَصا
ئِدِcompletion of 'poems' مِنof وَصفِكُنَّdescription of you وَعُطلُand the bareness of الكُتُبthe books
ئِدِ مِن وَصفِكُنَّ وَعُطلُ الكُتُب
Is it not a shame that poems are devoid
As though your tops touch the clouds’ stand,
Of descriptions of you, and books lie bare?
You are, in the desert, ewe that feeds many a mouth,
وَأَنتُنَّand you فيin الهاجِراتِthe scorching noons الظِلالُthe shade
وَأَنتُنَّ في الهاجِراتِ الظِلالُ
كَأَنَّas though أَعالِيَكُنَّyour tops العَبَبthe billows
كَأَنَّ أَعالِيَكُنَّ العَبَب
And in the scorching noons, you are the shade,
Besides another, milking throughout,
As though your crowns were billowing waves.
You are, in the mansions’ yards, beautiful columns, adorning the wide.
وَأَنتُنَّand you فيin البيدِthe deserts شاةُthe ewe of المُعيلِthe family provider
وَأَنتُنَّ في البيدِ شاةُ المُعيلِ
جَناهاits fruit بِجانِبbeside أُخرىanother (ewe) حَلَبmilk
جَناها بِجانِب أُخرى حَلَب
And in the deserts, you are the family provider's ewe:
Your yields, in taste, are of generosity wide,
Its fruit, beside another ewe, is milk.
And like honey, in each color, craved.
وَأَنتُنَّand you فيin عَرَصاتِthe courtyards of القُصورِthe palaces
وَأَنتُنَّ في عَرَصاتِ القُصورِ
حِسانُbeautiful الدُمىthe statues الزائِناتُadorning الرَحَبthe open spaces
حِسانُ الدُمى الزائِناتُ الرَحَب
And you, in the courtyards of palaces,
Are lovely statues adorning the open spaces.
جَناكُنَّyour fruit كَالكَرمِlike the grapevine شَتّىvaried المَذاقِthe flavor
جَناكُنَّ كَالكَرمِ شَتّى المَذاقِ
وَكَالشَهدِand like honey فيin كُلِّevery لَونٍcolor يُحَبis loved
وَكَالشَهدِ في كُلِّ لَونٍ يُحَب
Your fruit, like the vine's, has many flavors,
And, like honey, is loved in every hue.
Partial English translation: 38 of 42 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1