قَنِعْتُI was content وَرَيْعانُand the bloom الشَّبابِof youth بِمائِهِwith its sap
قَنِعْتُ وَرَيْعانُ الشَّبابِ بِمائِهِ
وَلَمْand had not يَتَبَسَّمْsmiled وافِدٌa herald الشَّيْبِof gray hair فيin الرَّاسِthe head
وَلَمْ يَتَبَسَّمْ وافِدٌ الشَّيْبِ في الرَّاسِ
I was content while youth’s bloom still held its sap,
I am content, though springtime of my youth has passed
And gray hair’s herald had not yet smiled upon my head.
And no more smiles the aged man with hair now white
وَأَعْرَضْتُand I turned away عَنْfrom دُنياa world تَوَلَّىdeparted نَعيمُهاits bliss
وَأَعْرَضْتُ عَنْ دُنيا تَوَلَّى نَعيمُها
فَماfor nothing بِيَدِin the hand of السّاقيthe cupbearer سِوَىexcept فَضْلَةِthe remainder of الكاسِthe cup
فَما بِيَدِ السّاقي سِوَى فَضْلَةِ الكاسِ
And I turned away from a world whose bliss had departed,
I've turned away from a life whose joys cannot last
For the cupbearer holds only what remains in the cup.
What's left for me but dregs the cupbearer pours at night?
وَلاand no عِزَّhonor حَتَّىuntil يَضْرِبَsteels المَرْءُa man جَأْشَهُhis heart
وَلا عِزَّ حَتَّى يَضْرِبَ المَرْءُ جَأْشَهُ
عَلىto اليَأْسِgiving up hope فَانْفُضْso shake رَاحَتَيْكَyour two palms مِنfree of النَّاسِpeople
عَلى اليَأْسِ فَانْفُضْ رَاحَتَيْكَ مِن النَّاسِ
And there is no honor until a man steels his heart
True glory comes when one defiantly looks at loss-
To relinquish hope—so shake your hands free of people.
So cast off all who bring you comfort or delight
Sol 6.1