يُنافسُنيcompetes with me فيin الشِّعْرِpoetry والشِّعرُand poetry كاسدُin little demand
يُنافسُني في الشِّعْرِ والشِّعرُ كاسدُ
حَسودٌan envious man كَباstumbled عنshort of غايتيmy mark ومُعانِدُand an obstinate rival
حَسودٌ كَبا عن غايتي ومُعانِدُ
He vies with me in poetry, though poetry is in little demand—
He competes with me in poetry, though poetry is dead,
An envious, obstinate man who has fallen short of my mark.
An envious fool, far from my goal, stubbornly misled.
وكلُّand every غَبيٍّfool لوif يُباشِرُwere to touch بَرْدُهُhis coldness
وكلُّ غَبيٍّ لو يُباشِرُ بَرْدُهُ
لظَىblaze النَّارِthe fire أضحَىwould become حرَّهاits heat وهوwhile he is بارِدُcold
لظَى النَّارِ أضحَى حرَّها وهو بارِدُ
And every fool, were his coldness to touch
And every idiot, if his nonsense could take form,
The fire's blaze, would become its heat, yet still be cold.
Would make hellfire seem cool, though it was cold instead.
إذاwhen سُئِلُواthey are asked عمَّاabout what يَلوحُis evident تبلَّدواthey grow dull-witted
إذا سُئِلُوا عمَّا يَلوحُ تبلَّدوا
كأنَّهمُas though they were عندَat السُؤالِthe questioning جَلامِدُboulders
كأنَّهمُ عندَ السُؤالِ جَلامِدُ
When asked about what is plain to see, they grow dull-witted,
Ask them about what's ahead, and they play deaf and dumb,
As though, when questioned, they were boulders.
As if, when asked, they're suddenly statues made of lead.
قِيامٌstanding يَهُزُّونَthey shake النُّسوعَthe leather straps كأنَّماas though
قِيامٌ يَهُزُّونَ النُّسوعَ كأنَّما
بأيديهمُin their hands حيَّاتُsnakes رَمْلٍsand أساوِدُblack ones
بأيديهمُ حيَّاتُ رَمْلٍ أساوِدُ
They stand shaking the leather straps, as though
They shake their sleeves as if they held black snakes inside,
In their hands were black snakes of the sand.
With hands that clutch dark serpents that fill them with dread.
يَموتُdies ذَكاءُintelligence الطِّفْلِthe child ماas long as دامَhe remains عندَهُمْwith them
يَموتُ ذَكاءُ الطِّفْلِ ما دامَ عندَهُمْ
وكيفَand how صَلاحُsoundness الفَرْعِthe branch والأصلُand the root فاسِدُrotten
وكيفَ صَلاحُ الفَرْعِ والأصلُ فاسِدُ
A child's intelligence dies as long as he remains with them;
A child's wit dies in their midst - how can a branch thrive
And how can the branch be sound when the root is rotten?
When the root itself is rotten, diseased, and near dead?
أَفيقُواcome to your senses فلنfor ... will never يُعطىbe given القريضَpoetry مُعلِّمٌa schoolmaster
أَفيقُوا فلن يُعطى القريضَ مُعلِّمٌ
وهلand does يتولَّىtake charge of الأغبياءَthe fools عطاردُMercury
وهل يتولَّى الأغبياءَ عطاردُ
Come to your senses, for no schoolmaster will be granted poetry;
Awake! No teacher awards a degree to fools.
And does Mercury take charge of fools?
Does Mercury himself take idiots under his stead?
فلاso do not تمنحواbestow منهfrom it الكرامَthe noble قلائداًnecklaces
فلا تمنحوا منه الكرامَ قلائداً
فليسَfor ... are not منfrom الحَصباءِpebbles تُهدَىgiven as gifts القَلائِدُthe necklaces
فليسَ من الحَصباءِ تُهدَى القَلائِدُ
So do not bestow necklaces made from it upon the noble,
So give no honors or garlands to one such as he,
For necklaces made of pebbles are not offered as gifts.
For laurels are not meant for weeds that should be weeded.
Sol 6.1