خَلاstands deserted الجِزعُthe valley bend مِنof سَلمىSalma وَهاتيكَand yonder دارُهاher dwelling
خَلا الجِزعُ مِن سَلمى وَهاتيكَ دارُها
كَأَنَّas though مَخَطَّthe traced outline of النُؤيَthe encircling trench مِنهاof it سِوارُهاher bracelet
كَأَنَّ مَخَطَّ النُؤيَ مِنها سِوارُها
The valley bend stands deserted of Salma; yonder is her dwelling.
The grief left Salma's abode and those ruins
As though the trace of its encircling trench were her bracelet.
As if the wrists erased their bracelets
وَقَدand already نَزَفَhas drained الوَجدُlonging المُبَرِّحُagonizing أَدمُعيmy tears
وَقَد نَزَفَ الوَجدُ المُبَرِّحُ أَدمُعي
فَهَلso is there عَبرَةٌa tear ياO صاحِبَيَّmy two companions أُعارُهاI may be lent it
فَهَل عَبرَةٌ يا صاحِبَيَّ أُعارُها
And agonizing longing has already drained my tears.
And unrestrained sorrow made my tears flow
Is there, then, a tear I may borrow, O my two companions?
Can you relate, my friend, and understand it?
هيَit الدَّارُthe dwelling جادَتهاdrenched it الغَواديthe morning rains مُلِثَّةًunceasingly
هيَ الدَّارُ جادَتها الغَوادي مُلِثَّةً
تُهَيِّجُstirs أَشجاناًsorrows فأَينَso where is نَوارُهاits chaste maiden
تُهَيِّجُ أَشجاناً فأَينَ نَوارُها
It is the dwelling; morning rains have drenched it unceasingly.
It is the house whose valleys the torrents crossed
It stirs sorrows—where, then, is its chaste maiden?
Stirring sorrows, so where is its light?
ضَعيفَةُlanguid رَجعِthe return of النَّاظرَينِthe two eyes خَريدَةٌa shy maiden
ضَعيفَةُ رَجعِ النَّاظرَينِ خَريدَةٌ
يَرِقُّnarrows لأَثناءِat the folds of الوِشاحِthe sash إِزارُهاher waist-wrap
يَرِقُّ لأَثناءِ الوِشاحِ إِزارُها
A shy maiden, her eyes languid when they glance back,
Weakened by the gaze of passersby, decrepit
Her waist-wrap narrows at the folds of her sash.
Its wraparound dress drapes down in shame
وَقَفتُI stood بِهاat it أَبكيI weep وَتَذكُرُand recall أَينُقيmy she-camels
وَقَفتُ بِها أَبكي وَتَذكُرُ أَينُقي
مَناهِلَwatering places يَندىis dewy رَندُهاtheir laurel وَعرارُهاand their wild daisies
مَناهِلَ يَندى رَندُها وَعرارُها
I stood there weeping, while my she-camels recalled
I stood there crying, remembering its glory
Watering places whose laurel and wild daisies are damp with dew.
Its springs flowed, and its hills were verdant
وَتَمتاحُand draws up ماءَthe water of العَينِthe eye مِنيَfrom me لَوعَةٌa burning pang
وَتَمتاحُ ماءَ العَينِ مِنيَ لَوعَةٌ
مِنَof الوَجدِlonging تَستَقريsearches through الجَوانِحَthe ribs نارُهاits fire
مِنَ الوَجدِ تَستَقري الجَوانِحَ نارُها
And my eye's water is drawn from me by a pang
My tears freely flowed in agony
Of longing, whose fire searches through my ribs.
From the passion, igniting my soul aflame
وَأَذكُرُand I recall لَيلاًa night خُضتُI waded through قُطرَيهِits two ends بالحِمىin the protected pasture
وَأَذكُرُ لَيلاً خُضتُ قُطرَيهِ بالحِمى
وَبِتُّand I spent the night يُلَّهينيbeguiles me بِسَلمىwith Salma سِرارُهاher whispered talk
وَبِتُّ يُلَّهيني بِسَلمى سِرارُها
And I recall a night I waded through from end to end in the protected pasture,
I recall a night I crossed its streams in yearning
And I spent the night, beguiled by Salma's whispered talk.
Spent the night reminiscing of Salma's secrets
نَفَضتُI shook بِهِin it بُرديَّmy two cloaks عَنof كُلِّevery ريبَةٍsuspicion
نَفَضتُ بِهِ بُرديَّ عَن كُلِّ ريبَةٍ
تَشينُdisgraces وَلَمَّاand not yet يَلتَبسْclings بِيَto me عارُهاits shame
تَشينُ وَلَمَّا يَلتَبسْ بِيَ عارُها
That night I shook my two cloaks free of every suspicion
I shook off my cloak from all doubts
That brings dishonor; its shame had not yet clung to me.
Lest dishonor taints me from its blame
Sol 6.1