ماno لِلكَبيرِfor the old man فيin الغَوانيbeautiful women مِنany أَرَبdesire
ما لِلكَبيرِ في الغَواني مِن أَرَب
ماتَhas died الهوىlove فَلاso no جَوىًheartache وَلاand no طَرَبrapture
ماتَ الهوى فَلا جَوىً وَلا طَرَب
The old man has no desire for beautiful women.
What joy does old age have in sighs and sorrows?
Love has died: no heartache, no rapture.
Love is dead, there is no intimacy or confusion.
ياO رَبَّةَmistress of الخِدرِthe secluded chamber قَريremain راضيَةًcontent
يا رَبَّةَ الخِدرِ قَري راضيَةً
فَإِنand if أَبَيتِyou refuse فَاِتلَفيthen perish مِنَfrom الغَضَبrage
فَإِن أَبَيتِ فَاِتلَفي مِنَ الغَضَب
O mistress of the secluded chamber, remain content;
O beauty with languid eyes, be content and gentle,
and if you refuse, then perish of rage.
If you refuse then destroy me in anger!
هَيهاتِfar from it لاnot آسىI grieve عَلىover فَقدِthe loss of الصِباyouth
هَيهاتِ لا آسى عَلى فَقدِ الصِبا
وَلاand not يُرىis seen دَمعيmy tears لِشَوقٍfrom longing يَنسَكِبُflows
وَلا يُرى دَمعي لِشَوقٍ يَنسَكِبُ
Far from it! I do not mourn the loss of youth,
Alas! I have no regrets for the loss of youth,
nor are my tears seen flowing from longing.
Nor do tears of yearning flow from me.
كانَwas الهوىlove خِدنيmy intimate companion فَقَدand indeed وَدَّعتُهُI bade it farewell
كانَ الهوى خِدني فَقَد وَدَّعتُهُ
وَقَلَّماand seldom يَعودُreturns شَيءٌa thing قَدalready ذَهَبhas gone
وَقَلَّما يَعودُ شَيءٌ قَد ذَهَب
Love was my companion; I have now bid it farewell,
Love once seduced me, now I have bid it farewell,
and seldom does a thing once gone return.
Rarely does something that's gone return.
وَرُبَّand many a يَومٍday قَصَّرَتهُshortened it خَلوَتيmy private seclusion
وَرُبَّ يَومٍ قَصَّرَتهُ خَلوَتي
بِفاتِرِwith one languid of الطَرفِgaze خَلوبٍcaptivating مُختَلَبcaptivated
بِفاتِرِ الطَرفِ خَلوبٍ مُختَلَب
And many a day my private seclusion shortened
Many are the days my seclusion shortened,
with a languid-eyed charmer, himself captivated.
With a languid, sidelong glance from sleepy, made up eyes.
يَسلُبُنيhe robs me of عَقليmy reason بِحُسنِwith the beauty of وَجهِهِhis face
يَسلُبُني عَقلي بِحُسنِ وَجهِهِ
وَهوَand he منَfrom الإِعجابِadmiration بيfor me كَالمُستَلَبlike one carried away
وَهوَ منَ الإِعجابِ بي كَالمُستَلَب
He robs me of my reason with the beauty of his face,
My mind robbed by the beauty of his face,
and he, in his admiration for me, seems himself carried away.
While he regards me with wonder like one bewitched.
كَأَنَّماas though هاروتُHarut فيin أَجفانِّهِhis eyelids
كَأَنَّما هاروتُ في أَجفانِّهِ
يُنصِفُhe deals justly إِنif شاءَhe wills وَإِنand if شاءَhe wills غَصَبhe takes by force
يُنصِفُ إِن شاءَ وَإِن شاءَ غَصَب
It is as though Harut were in his eyelids:
As if Harut's eyes judge, to favor or wrong as he pleases,
he deals justly if he wills, and if he wills, he takes by force.
Fluttering, quivering in their sockets,
مُهَفهَفٌslender يَرتَجُّhe trembles فيin أَقطارِهِhis limbs
مُهَفهَفٌ يَرتَجُّ في أَقطارِهِ
كَمازَفَتas ... swept ريحٌa wind بِآجامِthrough thickets of قَصَبreeds
كَمازَفَت ريحٌ بِآجامِ قَصَب
Slender, he trembles in every limb,
Like the breeze that sways the stalks of cane.
as a wind sweeps through thickets of reeds.
I know not if his glance or wine called daughter of the vine intoxicated me,
لَمdid not أَدرِI know ماwhat أَسكَرَنيintoxicated me أَطَرفُهُwas it his gaze?
لَم أَدرِ ما أَسكَرَني أَطَرفُهُ
أَمor الَّتيthat which يَدعونَهاthey call it بِنتُdaughter of العِنَبthe grape
أَم الَّتي يَدعونَها بِنتُ العِنَب
I knew not what intoxicated me: was it his gaze,
As if his face were pearl water and his body finer than liquid gold.
or what they call the daughter of the grape?
You'd think it a ruby in its cup,
كَأَنَّماas though الدُرَّةُthe pearl ماءُthe lustre of وَجهِهِhis face
كَأَنَّما الدُرَّةُ ماءُ وَجهِهِ
وَجِسمُهُand his body أَحسَنُmore beautiful مِنthan ماءِthe liquid of الذَهَبgold
وَجِسمُهُ أَحسَنُ مِن ماءِ الذَهَب
It is as though a pearl were his face's lustre,
Or an ember set aflame with purpose and thus kindled.
and his body is more beautiful than liquid gold.
This one's that, and Fate is the key to bounty,
تَحسِبُهاyou would think it فيin كَأسِهاits cup ياقوتَةًa ruby
تَحسِبُها في كَأسِها ياقوتَةً
أَوor قَبَساًa firebrand أُلهِبَwas kindled عَمداًdeliberately فَاِلتَهَبand so blazed
أَو قَبَساً أُلهِبَ عَمداً فَاِلتَهَب
You would think it, in its cup, a ruby,
Flower of life, spring of manners.
or a firebrand deliberately kindled, then blazing.
He is pleased and generously casts favors,
هَذاthis لِذاfor that وَالفَتحُand al-Fath مِفتاحُthe key to النَدىgenerosity
هَذا لِذا وَالفَتحُ مِفتاحُ النَدى
وَزَهرَةُand the flower of الدُنياthe world وَيَنبوعُand the fountainhead of الأَدَبletters
وَزَهرَةُ الدُنيا وَيَنبوعُ الأَدَب
This for that; and al-Fath is the key to generosity,
Death is angered when Fate is ireful.
and the world's flower and the fountainhead of letters.
Consider his traces with bounty,
يَرضىhe is pleased فَيَرميthen he scatters بِاللُهىwith gifts سَماحَةًgenerously
يَرضى فَيَرمي بِاللُهى سَماحَةً
وَيَغضَبُand grows angry المَوتُDeath إِذاwhen الفَتحُal-Fath غَضِبis angry
وَيَغضَبُ المَوتُ إِذا الفَتحُ غَضِب
He is pleased, and scatters gifts generously;
Like traces of rain upon grass.
and Death grows angry when al-Fath is angry.
If Glory were told, attach thyself to a man,
أُنظُرlook إِلىat آثارِهِhis effects عِندَwhen giving اللُهىgifts
أُنظُر إِلى آثارِهِ عِندَ اللُهى
تَنظُرyou will see إِلىat آثارِthe traces of غَيثٍrain فيin عُشُبgrass
تَنظُر إِلى آثارِ غَيثٍ في عُشُب
Look at his effects when he gives gifts:
None would it seek but him as its origin.
you will see the traces of rain in the grass.
A lion, gallant, generous, glorious,
لَوif قيلَit were said لِلمَجدِto glory اِنتَسِبtrace your lineage إِلىto اِمرِئٍa man
لَو قيلَ لِلمَجدِ اِنتَسِب إِلى اِمرِئٍ
لَمnot تُلفِهِyou would find it إِلّاexcept إِلَيهِto him يَنتَسِبtraces its lineage
لَم تُلفِهِ إِلّا إِلَيهِ يَنتَسِب
Were glory told, 'Trace your lineage to a man,'
Wealth suffices him, to grant and gift.
you would find it tracing its lineage to him alone.
Good fortune to one loyal to Abu Muhammad,
لَيثٌa lion وَغَيزٌand rain (probable reading) وَجَوادٌand a generous man ماجِدٌnoble
لَيثٌ وَغَيزٌ وَجَوادٌ ماجِدٌ
كَفّاهُhis two hands بِالأَموالِwith wealth تَحبوbestow gifts وَتَهَبand give
كَفّاهُ بِالأَموالِ تَحبو وَتَهَب
A lion and rain [probable reading], a generous, noble man;
And say to one hostile, prepare for perdition.
his two hands bestow wealth and give gifts.
His obedience is duty, if you disobey him,
طوبىblessedness لِمَنto whoever والىhe befriends أَبوAbu مُحَمَّدٍMuhammad
طوبى لِمَن والى أَبو مُحَمَّدٍ
وَقُلand say لِمَنto whoever عادىhe opposes تأَهَّبprepare yourself لِلعَطَبfor ruin
وَقُل لِمَن عادى تأَهَّب لِلعَطَب
Blessed is whoever Abu Muhammad befriends;
You'll be firewood for Hell in your disobedience.
and tell whoever he opposes: 'Prepare for ruin.'
O you who praise Fate and hope in it,
طاعاتُهُacts of obedience to him فَرضٌa duty فَإِنand if عَصَيتَهُyou disobey him
طاعاتُهُ فَرضٌ فَإِن عَصَيتَهُ
كُنتَyou would be بِعِصيانِكَthrough your disobedience لِلنارِfor the fire حَطَبfirewood
كُنتَ بِعِصيانِكَ لِلنارِ حَطَب
Obedience to him is a duty; and if you disobey him,
You are no man who failed or speaker who lied.
you become, through your disobedience, firewood for the fire.
When Fate clothes me in robes of wealth,
ياO مادِحَpraiser of الفَتحِal-Fath وَياand O آمِلَهُone who hopes in him
يا مادِحَ الفَتحِ وَيا آمِلَهُ
لَستَyou are not اِمرَأًa man خابَwas disappointed وَلاnor مُثنٍa praiser كَذَبlied
لَستَ اِمرَأً خابَ وَلا مُثنٍ كَذَب
O praiser of al-Fath, and O you who hope in him,
My raiment of it is choice poetry.
you are no disappointed man, nor a praiser who has lied.
Poems that delight those to whom they are gifted,
إِذاwhen كَسانيclothes me الفَتحُal-Fath أَثوابَgarments of الغِنىwealth
إِذا كَساني الفَتحُ أَثوابَ الغِنى
فَكُسوَتيthen my clothing of إياهُhim مَدحٌpraise مُنتَخَبchoice
فَكُسوَتي إياهُ مَدحٌ مُنتَخَب
When al-Fath clothes me in robes of wealth,
And the soul's pleasure in refined living.
then I clothe him in choice praise:
I never borrowed their adornments, nor
قَصائِدٌpoems يَطرَبُrejoices مَنwhoever تُهدىare given as gifts لَهُto him
قَصائِدٌ يَطرَبُ مَن تُهدى لَهُ
وَلَذَّةُand the pleasure of النَفسِthe soul مِنَfrom العَيشِlife الطَرَبrapture
وَلَذَّةُ النَفسِ مِنَ العَيشِ الطَرَب
poems that delight the one to whom they are given,
Did I pretend in reciting them in books.
and the soul's pleasure in life is rapture.
They came like pearls in necklaces of gold,
لَمdid not أَستَعِرI borrow حِليَتَهاtheir adornment يَوماًever وَلاnor
لَم أَستَعِر حِليَتَها يَوماً وَلا
أَغَرتُI raided حينَwhen قُلتُهاI composed them عَلىupon الكُتُبbooks
أَغَرتُ حينَ قُلتُها عَلى الكُتُب
I never borrowed their adornment, nor
On the neck of a beauty, or like rods of gold.
did I raid books when I composed them.
Sorcery, permitted, I did not string its beads
جاءَتthey came كَدُرٍّlike fine pearls فيin سِماطِa strand of لُؤلُؤٍpearls
جاءَت كَدُرٍّ في سِماطِ لُؤلُؤٍ
فيon جيدِthe neck of خَودٍa lovely maiden أَوor كَعِقيانِlike pure gold الذَهَبgold
في جيدِ خَودٍ أَو كَعِقيانِ الذَهَب
They came like fine pearls in a strand of pearls,
Save to raise my station above the ranks.
on a lovely maiden's neck, or like pure gold.
How could one hopeful of you not hope for wealth,
سِحرٌmagic حَلالٌlawful لَمdid not أُؤَلِّفI string together عِقدَهُits necklace
سِحرٌ حَلالٌ لَم أُؤَلِّف عِقدَهُ
إِلّاexcept لِتَعلوso that ... may rise رُتبَتيmy rank عَلىabove الرُتَبthe ranks
إِلّا لِتَعلو رُتبَتي عَلى الرُتَب
Lawful magic—I did not string its necklace
When you are the pinnacle of glory while people are the tail?
save that my rank might rise above all ranks.
وَكَيفَand how لاnot يَأمُلُhopes for راجيكَone who hopes in you الغِنىwealth
وَكَيفَ لا يَأمُلُ راجيكَ الغِنى
وَأَنتَwhile you رَأسُthe head of المَجدِglory وَالناسُand the people ذَنَبa tail
وَأَنتَ رَأسُ المَجدِ وَالناسُ ذَنَب
And how can one who hopes in you not hope for wealth,
when you are glory's head and the people its tail?
Partial English translation: 47 of 50 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1