وَيَهماءand a trackless desert تسقطُfall short عنهاof it الظُنونُconjectures
وَيَهماء تسقطُ عنها الظُنونُ
ولاand not يَجِدُfinds الرَكبُthe caravan فيهاin it مقيلاa midday resting place
ولا يَجِدُ الرَكبُ فيها مقيلا
And a trackless desert where conjecture falls short,
The hills where all worries fall away,
And the caravan finds no place there for midday rest.
No caravan finds rest along the way.
تمَلُّgrow weary of الرياحُthe winds بهاthrough it مَرَّهاtheir passage
تمَلُّ الرياحُ بها مَرَّها
فتُمسيso reach evening العَواصِفُthe gales مِنهاfrom it كلولاexhausted
فتُمسي العَواصِفُ مِنها كلولا
The winds weary of their passage through it,
Winds blow and twist throughout the day,
So the gales reach evening exhausted by it.
Tempests swirl till night holds their sway.
إذاwhen ماemphatic particle تَرامَتit stretches far بأيديbeneath the forefeet of الرِكابِthe riding camels
إذا ما تَرامَت بأيدي الرِكابِ
لمnot يرجُhe hopes غائبُهاone who vanishes into it أنto يَؤولاreturn
لم يرجُ غائبُها أن يَؤولا
When it stretches away beneath the camels’ forefeet,
When reins are pulled by travelers' hands,
Whoever vanishes into it has no hope of returning.
None think to stop or make their stands.
تُكَذِّبُdispels عَنّاfrom us هُمومَcares القُلوبِthe heart
تُكَذِّبُ عَنّا هُمومَ القُلوبِ
إذاwhen أَزمَعresolves القَومُthe company مِنهاfrom it القُفولاthe return journey
إذا أَزمَع القَومُ مِنها القُفولا
It dispels from us the cares of the heart,
Our hearts' concerns seem far away,
When the company resolves to return from it.
When people leave to end their day.
وَيَنبوand recoils عَنِfrom العينِthe eye فيهاin it الكرىslumber
وَيَنبو عَنِ العينِ فيها الكرى
فلاso not يطعمُhe tastes النَومsleep إلّاexcept قليلاa little
فلا يطعمُ النَوم إلّا قليلا
And slumber shuns the eye within it,
Eyes look but see no trace remain,
So one tastes only a little sleep.
Except a little sleep to gain.
كأنَّas though عساقِلهاits mirages بالضحىat midmorning
كأنَّ عساقِلها بالضحى
طَرائدُfleeing quarry خَيلٍof horses تُباريracing خيولاhorses
طَرائدُ خَيلٍ تُباري خيولا
As though its mirages at midmorning
Her horses at dawn appear to race,
Were horses in flight, racing other horses.
Like prey pursued with hurried pace.
Sol 6.1