خَليليmy friend وَلاand not أَدعوI call سِواكَanyone but you بِمِثلِهاby a name like it
خَليلي وَلا أَدعو سِواكَ بِمِثلِها
سِوىexcept مَلَقٍflattery تَهذِيbabble بِهِwith it أَلسُنُtongues الشِّعرِpoetry
سِوى مَلَقٍ تَهذِي بِهِ أَلسُنُ الشِّعرِ
My friend—and I call no one but you by that name,
My friend I call no other by the like of her name,
except in flattery babbled by the tongues of poetry.
Save mere fancy with which the tongues of verse make free.
أَخُصُّكَI single you out لاnot أَنّيbecause I اِزدَهَيتُI grew proud عَلىover الوَرىhumankind
أَخُصُّكَ لا أَنّي اِزدَهَيتُ عَلى الوَرى
وَلَكِنand yet تَخَطَّيتُI stepped past التُّرابَdust إِلىto التِّبرraw gold
وَلَكِن تَخَطَّيتُ التُّرابَ إِلى التِّبر
I single you out, not out of arrogance toward humankind,
Chiefly for thee, not that I am grown thee above,
but because I have stepped past dust to reach gold.
Nay but that I have passed the dust o'er to pure gold.
Sol 6.1