ماnot كانَthere was فيon الأَرضِthe earth مِنany خَيرٍgoodness وَلاnor كَرَمُgenerosity
ما كانَ في الأَرضِ مِن خَيرٍ وَلا كَرَمُ
فَضَلَّso went astray مَنwhoever قالَsaid إِنَّthat الأَكرَمينَthe noblest فَنواthey perished
فَضَلَّ مَن قالَ إِنَّ الأَكرَمينَ فَنوا
There was no goodness on earth, nor generosity;
There was no good nor generosity on earth,
so whoever said the noblest had perished went astray.
Superior to one who said the noblest perished,
وَإِنَّماand only نَحنُwe فيin سَوداءَa black sea طامِيَةٍsurging
وَإِنَّما نَحنُ في سَوداءَ طامِيَةٍ
وَهَلand can تُخَلِّصُrescue مِنfrom أَمثالِهاthe likes of it السُفُنُships
وَهَل تُخَلِّصُ مِن أَمثالِها السُفُنُ
And we are but in a black, surging sea;
We are merely in a dark and murky sea,
and can ships rescue us from the likes of it?
Can ships escape from such as this?
وَالشيبُand the gray-haired أَولىmore deserving مِنَthan الشُبّانِthe young men لَوif عُبِطواthey were taken untimely
وَالشيبُ أَولى مِنَ الشُبّانِ لَو عُبِطوا
لِأَنَّهُbecause he مُكثَبٌclose مِنto حَتفِهِhis death اليَفَنُthe aged man
لِأَنَّهُ مُكثَبٌ مِن حَتفِهِ اليَفَنُ
And the gray-haired are more deserving of death than the young, if taken untimely,
Grey hair suits the aged more than youth,
for the aged man is close to his death.
If they are chided, for it springs from the brink of demise,
أَعفىmost restful المَنازِلَdwellings قَبرٌa grave يُستَراحُrest is found بِهِin it
أَعفى المَنازِلَ قَبرٌ يُستَراحُ بِهِ
وَأَفضَلُand the best اللُبسِclothing فيماas far as أَعلَمُI know الكَفَنُthe shroud
وَأَفضَلُ اللُبسِ فيما أَعلَمُ الكَفَنُ
The most restful of dwellings is a grave in which one finds repose;
The most spacious homes become a grave for rest,
and the best clothing, as far as I know, is the shroud.
And the finest garb is what we know the shroud,
إِنَّindeed الَّذينَthose who عَلىon وَجهِthe surface of الثَرىthe earth وُطِئواwere trampled upon
إِنَّ الَّذينَ عَلى وَجهِ الثَرى وُطِئوا
يُشابِهونَthey resemble أُناساًpeople تَحتَهُbeneath it دُفِنواwere buried
يُشابِهونَ أُناساً تَحتَهُ دُفِنوا
Indeed, those trampled upon the face of the earth
Those trampled on the earth's face,
resemble people buried beneath it—
Resemble people buried underneath,
الضاحِكينَthose who laugh إِذاwhen ماemphatic particle خيضَwas indulged in فيin سَفَهٍfolly
الضاحِكينَ إِذا ما خيضَ في سَفَهٍ
وَإِنand if أُريدواthey were asked عَلىto أُكرومَةٍa noble deed شَفَنواthey looked askance
وَإِن أُريدوا عَلى أُكرومَةٍ شَفَنوا
those who laugh when folly is indulged in,
The laughers, when immersed in idiocy,
and if asked to do a noble deed, look askance.
And if they aspired to nobility, interred,
وَماand not أَصابَهُمُbefell them أَفِنٌloss of reason فَغَيَّرَهُمso changed them
وَما أَصابَهُمُ أَفِنٌ فَغَيَّرَهُم
لَكِنbut أُراهُمI deem them عَلىthroughout طولِthe length of المَدىtime أَفِنواthey were foolish
لَكِن أُراهُم عَلى طولِ المَدى أَفِنوا
And no loss of reason befell them to change them;
An end did not alter them,
but I deem them to have been foolish all along.
But I see them, in the long run, perished,
وَلاnor تُنَجّيsave دُروعٌcoats of mail أَهلَهاtheir wearers سُبُغٌample
وَلا تُنَجّي دُروعٌ أَهلَها سُبُغٌ
وَلاnor جِيادٌfine steeds عَلىat أَبوابِهِمtheir gates صُفُنُstanding with one hoof raised
وَلا جِيادٌ عَلى أَبوابِهِم صُفُنُ
Nor can ample coats of mail save their wearers,
No coats of mail rescue their people, polished,
nor fine steeds standing at their gates with one hoof raised.
No steeds at their gates aligned,
إِنّاindeed we لَرَكبُsurely a band of riders لَيالٍnights غَيرِnot وانِيَةٍflagging
إِنّا لَرَكبُ لَيالٍ غَيرِ وانِيَةٍ
فَقوتِلَتso cursed be they مِنas رِكابٍriding camels ماnot لَهاthey have ثَفَنُkneeling calluses
فَقوتِلَت مِن رِكابٍ ما لَها ثَفَنُ
We are indeed riders upon nights that never flag;
We are night riders, not eternal,
so cursed be those mounts, which have no kneeling calluses!
Some of our riders, for them no revival,
Sol 6.1