خَلِيلَيَّmy two friends مَسَّhas touched اَلمطاياthe riding camels لَغَبْweariness
خَلِيلَيَّ مَسَّ اَلمطايا لَغَبْ
وَأَلْوَىand has worn down بِأَشْباحِهنَّtheir frames الدَّأَبْrelentless toil
وَأَلْوَى بِأَشْباحِهنَّ الدَّأَبْ
My two friends, weariness has touched the riding camels,
My beloveds, the horses have been saddled,
And relentless toil has worn down their frames.
And headed off eagerly at dawn.
وَقَدْand indeed نَصَلَتْthey have emerged مِنْfrom حَواشِيthe fringes الدُّجَىof darkness
وَقَدْ نَصَلَتْ مِنْ حَواشِي الدُّجَى
تَمايَلُsway أَعْناقُهاtheir necks مِنْfrom نَصَبْexhaustion
تَمايَلُ أَعْناقُها مِنْ نَصَبْ
And they have emerged from the fringes of darkness,
The edges of darkness have scattered,
Their necks swaying with exhaustion.
Their necks swaying with exertion.
وَأَلْويَةُand the banners الصُّبْحِof dawn مُذْsince فُصِمَتْwere broken
وَأَلْويَةُ الصُّبْحِ مُذْ فُصِمَتْ
عُراthe bonds اللَّيْلِof night مُنْتَشِراتُunfurled العَذَبْthe streamers
عُرا اللَّيْلِ مُنْتَشِراتُ العَذَبْ
And dawn's banners, since the breaking
The twilight twists at dawn
Of night's bonds, have their streamers unfurled.
As the lovely night releases its braids.
كَأَنَّas though تَأَلُّقَهُits radiance جَذْوَةٌa firebrand
كَأَنَّ تَأَلُّقَهُ جَذْوَةٌ
تُناجِيwhispers to الصَّباthe east wind بِلِسانِwith the tongue اللَّهَبْof flame
تُناجِي الصَّبا بِلِسانِ اللَّهَبْ
As though its radiance were a firebrand
Its radiance is like an ember
Whispering to the east wind with a tongue of flame.
Whispering to the morning breeze.
فَلاso let no يَسْلَمَنَّescape unharmed لَهاof theirs غَارِبٌwithers
فَلا يَسْلَمَنَّ لَها غَارِبٌ
وَلاnor مَنْسِمٌa camel's foot بِالنَّجيعِwith fresh blood اخْتَضَبْhas been dyed
وَلا مَنْسِمٌ بِالنَّجيعِ اخْتَضَبْ
So let no withers of theirs be spared,
No setting sun escapes it,
Nor a foot dyed with fresh blood.
Nor a star twinkling in the blackness of night.
وَلاand do not تَنِياslacken, you two فيin ابْتِغاءِseeking العُلاhigh honor
وَلا تَنِيا في ابْتِغاءِ العُلا
فَكَمْfor many a راحَةٍease تُجْتَنىis harvested مِنْfrom تَعَبْtoil
فَكَمْ راحَةٍ تُجْتَنى مِنْ تَعَبْ
Nor slacken, you two, in seeking high honor,
Do not wander seeking exaltation-
For much ease is harvested from toil.
How much comfort is gained from fatigue!
وَلاand do not تَتْرُكانيleave me, you two لَقىًa castoff لِلْهُمومِfor cares
وَلا تَتْرُكاني لَقىً لِلْهُمومِ
بِحَيْثُwhere يُرىis seen الرَّأْسُthe head تِلْوَfollowing الذَّنَبْthe tail
بِحَيْثُ يُرى الرَّأْسُ تِلْوَ الذَّنَبْ
Nor leave me a castoff for cares,
Do not leave me a victim of worries,
Where the head is seen following the tail.
Where the head follows the tail.
فَإنَّfor indeed علىrests with اللهGod نَيْلَthe attainment الَّذيthat which
فَإنَّ على الله نَيْلَ الَّذي
سَعَيْناwe have striven لَهُfor it وَعَلَيْناand upon us الطَّلَبْthe seeking
سَعَيْنا لَهُ وَعَلَيْنا الطَّلَبْ
For with God rests the attainment of what
It is for God to grant what
We have striven for; with us rests the seeking.
We strive for, and it is ours to seek.
وَإنّيand I إذاwhen أَنْكرَتْنيdisowned me البِلادُthe lands
وَإنّي إذا أَنْكرَتْني البِلادُ
وَشِيبَand was mingled رِضَىthe favor أَهْلِهاof their people بِالغَضَبْwith anger
وَشِيبَ رِضَى أَهْلِها بِالغَضَبْ
And I, when the lands disown me,
When my country rejects me
And their people's favor is mingled with anger,
And its people's approval turns to anger,
لَكَالضَّيْغَمِsurely like the lion الوَرْدِtawny كادalmost الهَوانُdisgrace
لَكَالضَّيْغَمِ الوَرْدِ كاد الهَوانُ
يَدِبُّcreeps إِلىinto غَابِهِhis thicket فَاغْتَرَبْso he went abroad
يَدِبُّ إِلى غَابِهِ فَاغْتَرَبْ
Am surely like the tawny lion: disgrace almost
I am like a wilted rose whose abasement
Crept into his thicket, so he went abroad.
Creeps to its thickets, so it departs.
فَشَيَّدْتُso I raised مَجْداًglory رَسَاstands firm أَصْلهُits root
فَشَيَّدْتُ مَجْداً رَسَا أَصْلهُ
أَمُتُّI am connected إلَيْهِto it بِأُمٍّthrough a mother وَأَبْand a father
أَمُتُّ إلَيْهِ بِأُمٍّ وَأَبْ
So I raised a glory whose root stands firm,
I built glory on a firm base
To which I am bound through mother and father.
To which I cling through family and origin.
وَلَمْand did not أَنْظِمِI compose الشِّعْرَpoetry عُجْباًout of conceit بهِin it
وَلَمْ أَنْظِمِ الشِّعْرَ عُجْباً بهِ
وَلَمْand did not أَمْتَدِحْI praise أَحَداًanyone عَنْout of أَرَبْself-interest
وَلَمْ أَمْتَدِحْ أَحَداً عَنْ أَرَبْ
Nor did I compose verse out of pride in it,
I did not versify out of self-conceit,
Nor did I praise anyone out of self-interest.
Nor praise anyone for material gain.
ولاnor هَزَّنيstirred me طَمَعٌgreed لِلْقَريضِtoward poetry
ولا هَزَّني طَمَعٌ لِلْقَريضِ
ولكِنَّهُand yet it تَرْجُمانُan interpreter الأَدَبْof refinement
ولكِنَّهُ تَرْجُمانُ الأَدَبْ
Nor did greed spur me to poetry;
But it translates refinement and manners-
But it is the interpreter of refinement.
Not for riches, but pride in my family.
ولِلْفَخْرِand for glory أُعْنىI concern myself بِهِwith it لاnot الغِنَىwealth
ولِلْفَخْرِ أُعْنى بِهِ لا الغِنَى
فَعَنْfor, from كِسْرِthe side بَيْتيَof my tent جِيبَwere cut out العَرَبْthe Arabs
فَعَنْ كِسْرِ بَيْتيَ جِيبَ العَرَبْ
And I devote myself to it for glory, not wealth,
God and the noble know
For from my tent's side the Arabs were cut.
That ours is the choicest lineage.
وَقَدْand indeed عَلِمَhas known اللهُGod والنَّاسِبُوand the genealogists (continued)
وَقَدْ عَلِمَ اللهُ والنَّاسِبُو
نَcompletes 'genealogists' أَنَّthat لناbelongs to us صَفْوَthe pure stock هذاthis النَّسَبْlineage
نَ أَنَّ لنا صَفْوَ هذا النَّسَبْ
And God and the genealogists know full well
If time has worn me down,
That ours is the pure stock of this lineage.
And we are the butt of blame,
وَإنّيand I وَإِنْand though نَالَhas taken a toll مِنِّيon me الزَّمانُTime
وَإنّي وَإِنْ نَالَ مِنِّي الزَّمانُ
وَنَحْنُand we كَذلكlikewise سُؤْرُthe remnant النُّوَبْof calamities
وَنَحْنُ كَذلك سُؤْرُ النُّوَبْ
And I—though Time has taken its toll on me,
I will lift the veil from my clear lineage
And we are likewise the remnant of calamities—
And mend my reputation, pride of my people.
لأَرْفَعُI surely lift عَنْfrom شَمَمٍa high-bridged nose واضِحٍplainly visible
لأَرْفَعُ عَنْ شَمَمٍ واضِحٍ
لِثامِيmy face-veil وَأَرْقَعُand I patch وَهْيَthe rents الحَسَبْin ancestral honor
لِثامِي وَأَرْقَعُ وَهْيَ الحَسَبْ
Surely lift from a plainly high-bridged nose
I will not fawn over the wealthy man
My veil, and patch the rents in ancestral honor.
Who would mint a father from gold if he wished.
وَلاand do not أَسْتَكينُI humble myself لِذيbefore one possessing ثَرْوَةٍwealth
وَلا أَسْتَكينُ لِذي ثَرْوَةٍ
إذاif شَاءَhe wishes صَاغَhe fashioned أَبَاًa father مِنْof ذَهَبْgold
إذا شَاءَ صَاغَ أَبَاً مِنْ ذَهَبْ
Nor do I humble myself before a wealthy man,
My honor and virtue are my assets-
Who, if he wishes, can fashion a father of gold.
Slender but sufficient are my means.
فَحَسْبيso enough for me وَعِرْضيand my honor نَقِيُّunsullied الأَدِيمِin its skin
فَحَسْبي وَعِرْضي نَقِيُّ الأَدِيمِ
مِنَof المَالِwealth نَهْدُstout القُصَيْرَىthe lowest rib أَقَبّْlean-bellied
مِنَ المَالِ نَهْدُ القُصَيْرَى أَقَبّْ
Enough for me—with my honor's skin unsullied—
My whiteness shines if the nights
Of wealth is a stout-ribbed, lean-bellied steed,
Are pierced by the tail of the morning star.
وَأَبْيَضُand a bright sword إنْif لاحَit flashes خِلْتَyou would think العَجاthe dust-cloud (continued)
وَأَبْيَضُ إنْ لاحَ خِلْتَ العَجا
جَcompletes 'dust-cloud' لَيْلاًa night بِذَيْلِwith the hem الصَّباحِof morning انْتَقَبْveiled itself
جَ لَيْلاً بِذَيْلِ الصَّباحِ انْتَقَبْ
And a bright sword: if it flashes, you would think the dust-cloud
A night veiled with the hem of morning.
Partial English translation: 38 of 40 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1