لَقَدindeed رَنَّقَتgrew drowsy عَينُthe eye النَهارِof day وَأَسدَلَتand let fall
لَقَد رَنَّقَت عَينُ النَهارِ وَأَسدَلَت
ضَفائِرَهاits tresses فَوقَover المُروجِthe meadows الدِياجِرُthe darkness
ضَفائِرَها فَوقَ المُروجِ الدِياجِرُ
Day's eye has grown drowsy, and darkness has let fall
The eye of daylight grew weary and cast
its tresses over the meadows.
Its braids over the slumbering meadows.
وَقَدand indeed خَرَجَcame out الخُفّاشُthe bat يَهمِسُwhispers فيin الدُجىthe gloom
وَقَد خَرَجَ الخُفّاشُ يَهمِسُ في الدُجى
وَدَبَتand crept عَلىalong الشَطِّthe bank الهَوامُthe creeping creatures النَوافِرُthe skittish
وَدَبَت عَلى الشَطِّ الهَوامُ النَوافِرُ
And the bat has come out, whispering in the gloom,
The bat slipped out, whispering in the gloom,
and skittish creatures have crept along the bank.
While beasts prowled the riverbanks.
وَطارَتand flew مِنَfrom الجَميزِthe sycamore تَصرُخُshrieking بومَةٌan owl
وَطارَت مِنَ الجَميزِ تَصرُخُ بومَةٌ
عَلىat صَوتِthe sound هِرٍّof a cat فيin الدُجىthe darkness يَتَشاجَرُquarrelling
عَلى صَوتِ هِرٍّ في الدُجى يَتَشاجَرُ
And an owl flew shrieking from the sycamore,
An owl shrieked from the acacia tree
at the sound of a cat quarrelling in the darkness.
At the snarling of some beast in the dark.
وَفيand at فَتَراتٍintervals يَنبَحُbarks الكَلبُthe dog عابِساًscowling
وَفي فَتَراتٍ يَنبَحُ الكَلبُ عابِساً
فَيَعويthen howls لَهُto it ذِئبٌa wolf مِنَfrom الحَقلِthe field خادِرُlurking
فَيَعوي لَهُ ذِئبٌ مِنَ الحَقلِ خادِرُ
And at intervals the dog barks, scowling,
Between bouts, the sullen hound would bay
then a lurking wolf howls to it from the field.
And a jackal would howl back from the field.
مَشيتُI walked وَحيداًalone مُطرِقُbowing الرَأسِthe head باكِياًweeping
مَشيتُ وَحيداً مُطرِقُ الرَأسِ باكِياً
وَقَدand indeed شَرَّدَتscattered فيin الحُزنِsorrow مِنّيfrom me خَواطِرُthoughts
وَقَد شَرَّدَت في الحُزنِ مِنّي خَواطِرُ
I walked alone, head bowed, weeping,
Alone I walked, head bowed, weeping,
and thoughts had scattered from me in sorrow.
My thoughts scattered, lost in sorrow.
حَزيناًsorrowful تَهادىdrifted gently فيin الظَلامِthe darkness كَأَنَّنيas though I
حَزيناً تَهادى في الظَلامِ كَأَنَّني
إِلىtoward الأُفقِthe horizon المَجهولِthe unknown فيin اللَيلِthe night سائِرُjourneying
إِلى الأُفقِ المَجهولِ في اللَيلِ سائِرُ
Sorrowful, drifting through the darkness, as though I
Sadly I drifted in the dark, as though
were journeying at night toward the unknown horizon.
Heading into the vague horizon of night.
لَقَدindeed أَشعَلَتlit كُلَّall المَآذِنِthe minarets نورَهاtheir light
لَقَد أَشعَلَت كُلَّ المَآذِنِ نورَها
وَلاحَتand appeared عَلىon الأُفقِthe horizon البَعيدِthe distant المَقابِرُthe graveyards
وَلاحَت عَلى الأُفقِ البَعيدِ المَقابِرُ
All the minarets have kindled their light,
The minarets had kindled all their lights
and the graveyards appeared on the distant horizon.
And the distant cemeteries glimmered.
وَقَدand indeed عَقَدَتformed نارُthe fire العُروشِof the arbors سَحائِباclouds
وَقَد عَقَدَت نارُ العُروشِ سَحائِبا
عَلَيهاabove them وَفاحَتand wafted بِالدُخانِwith smoke المَجامِرُthe braziers
عَلَيها وَفاحَت بِالدُخانِ المَجامِرُ
And the arbors' fire has formed clouds
Fires of hearths had formed clouds
above them, and the braziers gave off smoke.
Over them, smoke rising from their embers.
وَمِنand from تَلعَةٍa rise تَبدوappear البُروجُthe towers وَفَوقَهاand above them
وَمِن تَلعَةٍ تَبدو البُروجُ وَفَوقَها
حَمامٌpigeons عَلىamid الصَمتِthe silence المُخيمِthe enveloping ذاكِرُremembering
حَمامٌ عَلى الصَمتِ المُخيمِ ذاكِرُ
And from a rise the towers appear, and above them
From a hill, the mansions appeared; above,
pigeons, remembering amid the enveloping silence,
A dove called to a friend lost in the gloom,
يُناديcalls أَليفاًa companion ضَلَّlost فيin الدَغلِthe thicket مَسلِكاًa path
يُنادي أَليفاً ضَلَّ في الدَغلِ مَسلِكاً
وَلَمand did not يُبصِرsee الأَبراجَthe towers وَالسَربُand the flock عابِرُpassing
وَلَم يُبصِر الأَبراجَ وَالسَربُ عابِرُ
call a companion who lost his way in the thicket
Unable to see the constellations or passing flocks.
and did not see the towers as the flock passed.
The biting cold had folded its wings.
وقَدand indeed جَمَشَpinched البَردُthe cold الشَفيفُthe piercing جَناحَهُhis wing
وقَد جَمَشَ البَردُ الشَفيفُ جَناحَهُ
فَمَدَّتso reached out لِنَتفِto pluck الريشِthe feathers مِنهُfrom him مَناقِرُbeaks
فَمَدَّت لِنَتفِ الريشِ مِنهُ مَناقِرُ
And the piercing cold had pinched his wing,
A plume reached out, searching for bits of down.
so beaks reached out to pluck the feathers from him.
By day it found no rest from the bustle within;
يُراعيwatches for نَهاراًa day لَيسَdoes not يَقبِلُcome لَيلُهُits night
يُراعي نَهاراً لَيسَ يَقبِلُ لَيلُهُ
مِنَfrom الفَختِthe moonlight فيهِin it تَستَكِنُّtake shelter الهَوادِرُthe cooing doves
مِنَ الفَختِ فيهِ تَستَكِنُّ الهَوادِرُ
He watches for a day whose night does not come,
By night the rabble quieted down.
in which the cooing doves take shelter from the moonlight.
Feelings of anxiety in the dark, of desolation,
شُعورُa feeling اِنقِباضٍof unease فيin الظَلامِthe darkness وَوَحشَةُand loneliness
شُعورُ اِنقِباضٍ في الظَلامِ وَوَحشَةُ
وَصَمتٌand a silence حُزنٍof sorrow شَدَّgripped ماwhat أَناI ناظِرُbehold
وَصَمتٌ حُزنٍ شَدَّ ما أَنا ناظِرُ
A sense of unease in the darkness, and loneliness,
Silence of sorrow was all I could see.
and sorrow's silence has gripped all I behold.
Whence comes the throbbing of my heart?
فَمِنso from أَينَwhere قَلبيmy heart يَستَمِدُّdraws خُفوقَهُits beating
فَمِن أَينَ قَلبي يَستَمِدُّ خُفوقَهُ
وَمِنand from أَيُّهاwhich of them ليfor me تَستَمِدُّdraw المَصادِرُthe sources
وَمِن أَيُّها لي تَستَمِدُّ المَصادِرُ
So from where does my heart draw its beating?
What is left to sustain me?
And from which of them do the sources draw for me?
Down in the valley floor, huts stood
وَفيand in مَهبَطِthe low point الواديof the valley تَقومُstand عَرائِشٌarbors
وَفي مَهبَطِ الوادي تَقومُ عَرائِشٌ
مِنَof الكَرمِthe grapevines وَالناطورُand the watchman فيin اللَيلِthe night ساهِرُkeeping vigil
مِنَ الكَرمِ وَالناطورُ في اللَيلِ ساهِرُ
And at the valley's bottom stand arbors
Of vines, and the watchman stayed up through the night.
of grapevines, and the watchman keeps vigil at night.
He had lit fires in them to warm himself.
وَقَدand indeed أَشعَلَlit النيرانَthe fires فيهاin them لِيَصطَليto warm himself
وَقَد أَشعَلَ النيرانَ فيها لِيَصطَلي
فَرَفَّso flickered لَهيبٌa flame فيin العَرائِشِthe arbors واهِرُblazing
فَرَفَّ لَهيبٌ في العَرائِشِ واهِرُ
And he has lit fires in them to warm himself,
Flames leapt up, blazing in the huts.
so a blazing flame flickered in the arbors.
He strummed his flute as the night listened
يَزمرُplays فيon الأَرغولِthe arghul reed pipe وَاللَيلُand the night سامِعٌlistening
يَزمرُ في الأَرغولِ وَاللَيلُ سامِعٌ
وَيُصغيand listens إِلىto الأَوهامِthe imaginings وَاللَيلُand the night زامِرُa piper
وَيُصغي إِلى الأَوهامِ وَاللَيلُ زامِرُ
He plays the arghul, and the night listens,
And dreamed to the strains as the night grew merry.
and he listens to imaginings, and the night is a piper.
I saw the plain in silent gloom,
أَرىI see السَهلَthe plain فيin صَمتٍsilence كَئيبٍmournful وَوَحشَةٍand desolation
أَرى السَهلَ في صَمتٍ كَئيبٍ وَوَحشَةٍ
تُخيمُsettles فَوقَover اللَيلِthe night وَالكَونُand the universe غامِرُengulfing
تُخيمُ فَوقَ اللَيلِ وَالكَونُ غامِرُ
I see the plain in mournful silence, and a desolation
Gloom hanging over the night and the teeming world.
that settles over the night, while the universe is all-engulfing.
Whence comes the throbbing of my heart?
فَمِنso from أَينَwhere قَلبيmy heart يَستَمِدُّdraws خُفوقَهُits beating
فَمِن أَينَ قَلبي يَستَمِدُّ خُفوقَهُ
وَمِنand from أَيُّهاwhich of them ليfor me تَستَمِدُّdraw المَصادِرُthe sources
وَمِن أَيُّها لي تَستَمِدُّ المَصادِرُ
So from where does my heart draw its beating?
What is left to sustain me?
And from which of them do the sources draw for me?
Partial English translation: 37 of 38 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1