وَعَاذِلَةٍand many a reproving woman وَالفَجْرُand dawn فيin حِجْرِthe lap of أُمِهِits mother
وَعَاذِلَةٍ وَالفَجْرُ في حِجْرِ أُمِهِ
تَلُوُمُshe reproaches وَمَاand not أَدْريI know عَلامَfor what reason تَلومُshe reproaches
تَلُوُمُ وَمَا أَدْري عَلامَ تَلومُ
And many a reproving woman, while dawn lies in its mother's lap,
While blaming at dawn, and dawn in its mother's lap,
Reproaches me, and I do not know why she reproaches me.
You blame me, yet I know not for what you blame,
تُعَيّرُنيshe taunts me أَنْthat يَرْضَعَsuckles الحَمْدُpraise نَائِليmy bounty
تُعَيّرُني أَنْ يَرْضَعَ الحَمْدُ نَائِلي
وَتَعْلَمُand she knows مَاwhat أَسْعَىI strive لَهُfor it وَأَرُومُand I seek
وَتَعْلَمُ مَا أَسْعَى لَهُ وَأَرُومُ
She taunts me because praise suckles at my bounty,
You reproach me that glory should suckle my hopes,
And she knows what I strive for and seek.
Yet you know what I strive for and scheme,
وَلَيand I have هِممُaspirations لاnot يُنكِرُdenies المَجْدُglory أَنَّهاthat they
وَلَي هِممُ لا يُنكِرُ المَجْدُ أَنَّها
بِأَطْرارِat the edges of آفَاقِthe horizons of السَّماءِthe sky نُجُومُstars
بِأَطْرارِ آفَاقِ السَّماءِ نُجُومُ
And I have aspirations—glory does not deny that they
My ambitions which glory acknowledges not to be
Are stars at the edges of heaven's horizons.
Like the stars adorning the horizons of the sky,
وَفِيهاand in them سُرُورُthe delight of النَّفْسِthe soul وَاليُسْرُand prosperity جَاذِبٌdrawing
وَفِيها سُرُورُ النَّفْسِ وَاليُسْرُ جَاذِبٌ
بِضَبْعِيby my upper arm وَإِنْand if أَعْسَرْتُI become poor فَهْيَthen they are هُمومُcares
بِضَبْعِي وَإِنْ أَعْسَرْتُ فَهْيَ هُمومُ
And in them is the soul's delight, while prosperity draws
In it is the soul's joy, and ease that lures
Me by the upper arm; but if I grow poor, they are cares.
My energy, and if I weary, it is anxieties,
وَدُونَand before المَعاليhigh honors مُنْيَةٌa cherished wish أَوْor مَنِيَّةٌdeath
وَدُونَ المَعالي مُنْيَةٌ أَوْ مَنِيَّةٌ
وَكُلٌّand everyone عَلىabout وِرْدِthe watering place of المَنُونِdeath يَحُومُcircles
وَكُلٌّ عَلى وِرْدِ المَنُونِ يَحُومُ
And on the way to high honors lies hope—or death,
And below ambitions, death or perishing,
And everyone circles about death's watering place.
And all hover around the frequented abode of death,
سَأَطْلُبُهاI shall seek them وَالنَّقْعُand the battle-dust يَضْفُوspreads wide رِداؤُهُits cloak
سَأَطْلُبُها وَالنَّقْعُ يَضْفُو رِداؤُهُ
وَجُرْدُand sleek المَذاكيfull-grown steeds فيin الدِّماءِblood تَعومُswim
وَجُرْدُ المَذاكي في الدِّماءِ تَعومُ
I shall seek them while the battle-dust's cloak spreads wide,
I will seek it while extermination dons its robe,
And sleek, full-grown steeds swim in blood.
And naked swords in blood are swimming,
فَماfor ... not أَرَبيmy desire إِلَّاexcept سَريرٌa throne وَمِنْبَرٌand a pulpit
فَما أَرَبي إِلَّا سَريرٌ وَمِنْبَرٌ
وَذِكْرٌand renown عَلىthrough مَرِّthe passage of الزَّمانِtime يَدومُendures
وَذِكْرٌ عَلى مَرِّ الزَّمانِ يَدومُ
For my desire is nothing but a throne and a pulpit,
So I wish for nothing but a throne and a pulpit,
And renown that endures through the passage of time.
And a remembrance lasting over the ages.
Sol 6.1