لَقَدindeed كَرُمَتwas dear عَلَيكَto you فَتاةُa maiden قَومٍof a tribe
لَقَد كَرُمَت عَلَيكَ فَتاةُ قَومٍ
شَرِبتَyou drank بِفَضلِهاthrough her favor فَضَلاتِthe leavings كَرمِof a grapevine
شَرِبتَ بِفَضلِها فَضَلاتِ كَرمِ
A maiden of a tribe has indeed been dear to you;
The daughter of a people has honored you,
through her favor you drank the vine's leavings.
Through her grace you have drunk the choicest wine,
وَسُقتَand you brought إِلَيكَto yourself سوءَthe evil الجُرمِof wrongdoing عَمداًdeliberately
وَسُقتَ إِلَيكَ سوءَ الجُرمِ عَمداً
وَأَنتَand you مُعَلَّلٌkept content بِسَويقِwith roasted-grain meal جَرمِof Jarm
وَأَنتَ مُعَلَّلٌ بِسَويقِ جَرمِ
And you deliberately brought the evil of wrongdoing upon yourself,
Though you blame her, and purposely accuse her of sin,
while you are kept content with Jarm's roasted-grain meal.
While you are excused with barley gruel.
أَرىI see هَرِماًan aged man يُعيدُrenews نَباتَthe growth نَبعٍof a nabʿ tree
أَرى هَرِماً يُعيدُ نَباتَ نَبعٍ
وَإِنand even if كانَwas الصَليبُthe hard wood كَنَبتِlike the shoots هَرمِof saltwort
وَإِن كانَ الصَليبُ كَنَبتِ هَرمِ
I see an aged man renewing the growth of a nabʿ tree,
I see the pyramids restore the flow of a spring,
even if the hard wood were like saltwort shoots.
Though the cross be like the shoot of a pyramid.
لَقَدindeed خابَhas failed الَّذيthe one who حَلَبَتmilked يَداهُhis two hands
لَقَد خابَ الَّذي حَلَبَت يَداهُ
سَفاهَةَthe folly عَقلِهِof his mind بِأَذىًwith harm وَغَرمِand loss
سَفاهَةَ عَقلِهِ بِأَذىً وَغَرمِ
He has indeed failed whose hands have milked
Disappointed is he who milked with his hands,
the folly of his mind, with harm and loss.
The foolishness of his mind with harm and loss.
سَيُخفِتُwill hush كُلَّevery صَوتٍvoice زَأرُa roar لَيثٍof a lion
سَيُخفِتُ كُلَّ صَوتٍ زَأرُ لَيثٍ
وَنَبأَةُand a faint cry باغِمٍof a calling gazelle وَهَديرُand a bellow قَرمِof a stud camel
وَنَبأَةُ باغِمٍ وَهَديرُ قَرمِ
A lion's roar will hush every voice,
The roar of a lion will silence every voice,
as will a gazelle's faint cry and a stud camel's bellow.
And the news of a mournful one and the murmur of locusts.
رَمانيhe shot me مَنthe one who لَهُbelonging to him وَتَريmy bowstring وَقَوسيand my bow
رَماني مَن لَهُ وَتَري وَقَوسي
وَكَفّيand my hand وَالسِهامُand the arrows فَكَيفَso how أَرميI shoot
وَكَفّي وَالسِهامُ فَكَيفَ أَرمي
He shot me—he who owns my bowstring and my bow,
She has thrown at me when I have a lute and a bow,
and my hand and the arrows—so how can I shoot?
My hands and arrows - so how can I shoot?
Sol 6.1