ياO صَاحِبَيَّmy two companions خُذاyou two, take لِلسَّيْرِfor the journey أُهْبَتَهُits gear
يا صَاحِبَيَّ خُذا لِلسَّيْرِ أُهْبَتَهُ
فَغَيْرُناfor others, not us بِمُناخِat an encampment السُّوءِof misfortune يَحْتَبِسُremain confined
فَغَيْرُنا بِمُناخِ السُّوءِ يَحْتَبِسُ
O my two companions, take up the journey's gear;
My friend, prepare your ride, the early dawn is nigh,
for others, not we, remain trapped in a wretched encampment.
While others in their wretched rest are tarried by.
أَتَرْقُدانِdo you two sleep? وَفَرْعُwhile the tresses الصُّبْحِof dawn مُنْتَشِرٌare spreading
أَتَرْقُدانِ وَفَرْعُ الصُّبْحِ مُنْتَشِرٌ
عَلَيكُماover you two وَذَماءُand the last breath اللَّيْلِof night مُخْتَلَسُis snatched away
عَلَيكُما وَذَماءُ اللَّيْلِ مُخْتَلَسُ
Do you two sleep while dawn's tresses spread
Will you two slumber while the morn its leaves spread wide,
over you, and night's last breath is snatched away?
O'er you, as the black night in fear creeps off to hide?
إِنْif تَجْهَلاyou two do not know ماwhat يُناجِينيwhispers to me الحِفاظُthe sense of honor بِهِabout it
إِنْ تَجْهَلا ما يُناجِيني الحِفاظُ بِهِ
فَالرُّمْحُthen the spear يَعْلَمُknows ماwhat أَبْغِيهِI seek it وَالفَرَسُand the horse
فَالرُّمْحُ يَعْلَمُ ما أَبْغِيهِ وَالفَرَسُ
If you two do not know what honor whispers to me,
If you're unaware what whispers to me my sheathed blade,
then the spear knows what I seek, and so does the horse.
Then know my spear and steed discern what I have made.
لِلَّهِto God دَرِّيmy prowess فَكَمْfor how often أَسْمُوI rise إِلىtoward أَمَدٍa goal
لِلَّهِ دَرِّي فَكَمْ أَسْمُو إِلى أَمَدٍ
والدَّهْرُwhile Time فيin ناظِرَيْهِits two eyes دُونَهُbefore it شَوَسُa hostile glare
والدَّهْرُ في ناظِرَيْهِ دُونَهُ شَوَسُ
God bless my prowess! How often I rise toward a goal,
My God, so far I’ve aimed, when will my goal be met?
while Time scowls with both eyes, barring the way to it.
While fate regards me as to it I am in debt.
أَبْغَيI seek عُلاًglory رامَهاhe sought it جَدِّيmy grandfather فَأَدْرَكَهاand so attained it
أَبْغَي عُلاً رامَها جَدِّي فَأَدْرَكَها
وَكانَand he would فيinto غَمْرَةِthe thick الهَيْجاءِof battle يَنْغَمِسُplunge
وَكانَ في غَمْرَةِ الهَيْجاءِ يَنْغَمِسُ
I seek the glory my grandfather sought and attained,
The heights my grandfather sought and grasped in his day,
and he would plunge into the thick of battle.
Engulfed in the turmoil of battle holding sway.
وَفيand in يَدِيmy hand كَلِسانِlike the tongue الأَيْمِof a serpent مُرْهَفَةٌa keen-edged blade
وَفي يَدِي كَلِسانِ الأَيْمِ مُرْهَفَةٌ
غِرارُهاits cutting edge بِمَقيلِwith the resting place الرُّوحِof the soul مُلْتَبِسُmingled
غِرارُها بِمَقيلِ الرُّوحِ مُلْتَبِسُ
And in my hand, like a serpent's tongue, is a keen-edged blade,
My Indian sword with hilt like soul’s abode embossed,
its edge mingled with the soul's resting place,
In the melee its light with the breasts of foes crossed.
فيon مَعْرَكٍa battlefield يَتَشَكّىcomplains of النَسْرُthe vulture بِطْنَتَهُits overfull belly
في مَعْرَكٍ يَتَشَكّى النَسْرُ بِطْنَتَهُ
بِهِin it وَلِلذِئْبِand for the wolf فيamong قَتْلاهُits slain مُنْتَهَسُflesh to tear
بِهِ وَلِلذِئْبِ في قَتْلاهُ مُنْتَهَسُ
on a battlefield where the vulture complains of its surfeit
Where the eagle rips open its victims without cease,
there, and the wolf has flesh to tear among its slain.
And for the wolf a feeding frenzy of flesh increased.
وَذابِليand my slender spear مِنْfrom نَجيعِthe blood القِرْنِof the adversary مُغْتَرِفٌscooping up
وَذابِلي مِنْ نَجيعِ القِرْنِ مُغْتَرِفٌ
وَمِنْand from لَظَىthe blaze الحِقُدِof hatred فيwithin جَنْبَيْهِhis two flanks مُقْتَبِسُtaking fire
وَمِنْ لَظَى الحِقُدِ في جَنْبَيْهِ مُقْتَبِسُ
And my slender spear scoops up my adversary's blood,
My emaciated mounts from the herd I heed,
and takes fire from hatred's blaze within his flanks.
My flanks kindled with intense, hateful fire feed.
فَأَيَّso what a أَرْوَعَgallant man مِنّيfrom within me نَبَهَّتْhave roused هِمَميmy aspirations
فَأَيَّ أَرْوَعَ مِنّي نَبَهَّتْ هِمَمي
وَأَيَّand what a شَأْوٍheight مِنَof العَلْياءِglory أَلْتَمسُI seek
وَأَيَّ شَأْوٍ مِنَ العَلْياءِ أَلْتَمسُ
So what a gallant man my aspirations have roused in me,
What grandeur have I, my ambitions roused?
and what a height of glory I seek!
What lofty glories and triumphs have I espoused?
Sol 6.1