بَلدa land قَدindeed خَلَتhas become empty مِنof الحُسنbeauty حَتّىso that
بَلد قَد خَلَت مِن الحُسن حَتّى
لاno حَبيبbeloved إلَيهِtoward him قَلبيmy heart يَميلُinclines
لا حَبيب إلَيهِ قَلبي يَميلُ
A land has become so devoid of beauty that
A land devoid of beauty, to the point
there is no beloved toward whom my heart inclines.
That my heart inclines toward no beloved.
وَإِذاand when ماemphatic particle نَظمتI compose شعراًverse فَقُلthen tell ليto me
وَإِذا ما نَظمت شعراً فَقُل لي
أَيwhich شَخصperson بِهِof him المَديحpraise أَقولُI speak
أَي شَخص بِهِ المَديح أَقولُ
And when I compose verse, tell me:
And if I compose poetry, tell me then—
of whom am I to speak in praise?
To whom should I direct my praise?
عَصفتhas raged لِلهُمومof sorrows ريحa wind سُمومa scorching wind
عَصفت لِلهُموم ريح سُموم
وَتَوَلَتand has turned away عَنfrom الرِياضthe gardens القُبولُthe east wind
وَتَوَلَت عَن الرِياض القُبولُ
A scorching wind of sorrows has raged,
The winds of woe have stirred up poisonous gales,
and the east wind has turned away from the gardens.
And acceptance has turned from the gardens.
لاno عَجَيبwonder إِنif عادَturns into دَمعيmy tears دِماءًblood
لا عَجَيب إِن عادَ دَمعي دِماءً
فَمَناميfor my sleep بَينَbetween الجُفونthe eyelids قَتيلُslain
فَمَنامي بَينَ الجُفون قَتيلُ
No wonder if my tears turn to blood,
No wonder if my tears again turn bloody,
for my sleep lies slain between my eyelids.
For sleep’s slain victim lies between my lids.
Sol 6.1