كَأَنas though الشعرpoetry رَوضa garden قَدalready جَنَتهُharvested it
كَأَن الشعر رَوض قَد جَنَتهُ
فَهومminds السابِقينthose who came before إِلىto الكَمالِperfection
فَهوم السابِقين إِلى الكَمالِ
It is as though poetry were a garden already harvested
Poetry is a garden we have planted
by the minds of those who first attained perfection.
Where the great minds run towards perfection
وَأَدركand found بَعدَهُمafter them قَومsome people بَقاياremnants
وَأَدرك بَعدَهُم قَوم بَقايا
تَوارتlay hidden تَحتَbeneath أَوراقleaves الخَيالِimagination
تَوارت تَحتَ أَوراق الخَيالِ
And after them, some people found remnants
And later some remnants are attained
hidden beneath the leaves of imagination.
Hidden beneath imagination's leaves
فَنَحنُso we إِذاwhen مَدَدناwe stretched out لِلمَعانيtoward meanings
فَنَحنُ إِذا مَدَدنا لِلمَعاني
يَدthe hand الأَفكارof thoughts تُعلقbecomes caught بِالمحالِin the impossible
يَد الأَفكار تُعلق بِالمحالِ
So when we stretch out toward meanings
So when we stretch our thoughts
the hand of thought, it becomes caught in the impossible.
To grasp meanings, we cling to the impossible
Sol 6.1