أَبولّوApollo مَرحَباًwelcome بِكِto you ياO أَبولّوApollo
أَبولّو مَرحَباً بِكِ يا أَبولّو
فَإِنَّكِfor indeed you are مِنof عُكاظِUkaz الشِعرِpoetry ظِلُّa shadow
فَإِنَّكِ مِن عُكاظِ الشِعرِ ظِلُّ
Apollo, welcome to you, O Apollo!
Apollo, welcome, O Apollo
For you are a shadow of poetry's Ukaz.
For you are from Ukaz, the poetry's shade
عُكاظُUkaz وَأَنتِand you لِلبُلَغاءِfor the eloquent سوقٌa marketplace
عُكاظُ وَأَنتِ لِلبُلَغاءِ سوقٌ
عَلىalong جَنَباتِهاits sides رَحَلواthey journeyed وَحَلّواand settled
عَلى جَنَباتِها رَحَلوا وَحَلّوا
Ukaz! And you are a marketplace for the eloquent,
Ukaz, and you are for the eloquent a market
Along whose sides they journeyed and settled.
Upon its sides they pitched their tents and lodged
وَيَنبوعٌand a spring مِنَof الإِنشادِpoetic recitation صافِclear
وَيَنبوعٌ مِنَ الإِنشادِ صافِ
صَدىthe thirst المُتَأَدِّبينَlovers of literature بِهِby it يُقَلُّis eased
صَدى المُتَأَدِّبينَ بِهِ يُقَلُّ
And a clear spring of poetic recitation,
A fountain of beautiful reciting
By which the thirst of lovers of literature is eased.
The echo of the cultivated with it is little
وَمِضمارٌand a racecourse يَسوقُleads إِلىtoward القَوافيrhymes
وَمِضمارٌ يَسوقُ إِلى القَوافي
سَوابِقُهاits front-runners إِذاwhen الشُعَراءُthe poets قَلّواbecame few
سَوابِقُها إِذا الشُعَراءُ قَلّوا
And a racecourse that leads toward rhymes
And a racecourse leading to rhymes
Its front-runners, when poets are few.
Its racers, when the poets speak
يَقولُutters الشِعرَpoetry قائِلُهُمtheir poet رَصيناًwell-wrought
يَقولُ الشِعرَ قائِلُهُم رَصيناً
وَيُحسِنُand excels حينَwhen يُكثِرُhe produces much أَوor يُقِلُّhe produces little
وَيُحسِنُ حينَ يُكثِرُ أَو يُقِلُّ
Their poet speaks in well-wrought verse,
He says poetry orderly
And excels whether he produces much or little.
And excels when he makes much or little
وَلَولاand were it not for المُحسِنونَthose who excel بِكُلِّin every أَرضِland
وَلَولا المُحسِنونَ بِكُلِّ أَرضِ
لَماwould not سادَrose to greatness الشُعوبُthe peoples وَلاnor اِستَقَلّواthey became independent
لَما سادَ الشُعوبُ وَلا اِستَقَلّوا
Were it not for those who excel in every land,
And were it not for the excellent everywhere
Peoples would neither rise to greatness nor gain independence.
No nations would prevail or become independent
عَسىmay تَأتينَناyou come to us بِمُعَلَّقاتٍwith Mu‘allaqat (odes)
عَسى تَأتينَنا بِمُعَلَّقاتٍ
نَروحُwe go forth عَلىover القَديمِthe poetry of old بِهاwith them نُدِلُّwe boast
نَروحُ عَلى القَديمِ بِها نُدِلُّ
May you bring us Mu‘allaqat,
May you bring us some Mu’allaqat
We go forth with them, boasting that they surpass the poetry of old.
We walk with it on the ancient softly
لَعَلَّperhaps مَواهِباًtalents خَفِيَتlay hidden وَضاعَتand went to waste
لَعَلَّ مَواهِباً خَفِيَت وَضاعَت
تُذاعُare made known عَلىthrough يَدَيكِyour two hands وَتُستَغَلُّand are put to use
تُذاعُ عَلى يَدَيكِ وَتُستَغَلُّ
Perhaps talents that lay hidden and went to waste
Maybe talents hidden were lost
Will be made known through your hands and put to use.
Broadcast through you and exploited
صَحائِفُكِyour pages المُدَبَّجَةُrichly embellished الحَواشيthe margins
صَحائِفُكِ المُدَبَّجَةُ الحَواشي
رُبىhills الوَردِroses المُفَتَّحِin bloom أَوor أَجَلُّmore splendid
رُبى الوَردِ المُفَتَّحِ أَو أَجَلُّ
Your pages, with their richly adorned margins,
Your leaves gilded margins
Are hills of roses in bloom—or more splendid still.
Were brought up on roses or more beautiful
رَياحينُfragrant blooms الرِياضِgardens يُمَلُّone tires مِنهاof them
رَياحينُ الرِياضِ يُمَلُّ مِنها
وَرَيحانُand the fragrant bloom القَرائِحِpoetic genius لاnot يُمَلُّis found tiresome
وَرَيحانُ القَرائِحِ لا يُمَلُّ
One tires of the gardens' fragrant blooms,
The gardens’ fragrances one would be fed up of
But never of the fragrant bloom of poetic genius.
Yet the scent of talents is never tiring
يُمَهِّدُprepares the way عَبقَرِيُّthe genius الشِعرِof poetry فيهاin it
يُمَهِّدُ عَبقَرِيُّ الشِعرِ فيها
لِكُلِّfor every ذَخيرَةٍtreasure فيهاin it مَحَلُّa place
لِكُلِّ ذَخيرَةٍ فيها مَحَلُّ
The genius of poetry prepares the way there;
The genius of poetry in it paves the way
Every treasure has a place there.
For every treasure in it a place
وَلَيسَand is not الحَقُّthe right بِالمَنقوصِdiminished فيهاin it
وَلَيسَ الحَقُّ بِالمَنقوصِ فيها
وَلاnor الأَعراضُpeople's honor فيهاin it تُستَحَلُّis violated
وَلا الأَعراضُ فيها تُستَحَلُّ
And no right is diminished there,
Truth is not diminished in it
Nor is anyone's honor violated there.
Nor chastity in it made licit
وَلَيسَتand it is not بِالمَجالِa forum لِنَقدِfor the criticism of باغٍa transgressor
وَلَيسَت بِالمَجالِ لِنَقدِ باغٍ
وَراءَbehind يَراعِهِhis reed pen حَسَدٌenvy وَغِلُّand rancor
وَراءَ يَراعِهِ حَسَدٌ وَغِلُّ
Nor is it a forum for a transgressor's criticism,
It is no place for critic’s abuse
Behind whose reed pen lie envy and rancor.
Beyond his pasture envy and rancor
Sol 6.1