إِنّيindeed I أَتانيreached me كَلامٌwords ماnot غَضِبتُI became angry لَهُat it
إِنّي أَتاني كَلامٌ ما غَضِبتُ لَهُ
وَقَدand indeed أَرادَintended بِهِby it مَنthe one who قالَspoke إِغضابيangering me
وَقَد أَرادَ بِهِ مَن قالَ إِغضابي
Indeed, words reached me that did not anger me,
Words came to me that I was not angered by
though their speaker meant by them to provoke my anger—
Though he who spoke them meant to provoke my ire
جُنادِفٌa squat, thickset man لاحِقٌreaching بِالرَأسِto the head مَنكِبُهُhis shoulder
جُنادِفٌ لاحِقٌ بِالرَأسِ مَنكِبُهُ
كَأَنَّهُas though he were كَودَنٌa sluggish nag يوشىis goaded بِكُلّابِwith an iron hook
كَأَنَّهُ كَودَنٌ يوشى بِكُلّابِ
a squat, thickset fellow whose shoulder reaches his head,
A persistent slanderer, his neck thrust forward
as though he were a sluggish nag goaded with an iron hook,
As if a scabby mangy dog set on by mongrels
مِنfrom مَعشَرٍa clan كُحِلَتwere lined with kohl بِاللُؤمِwith baseness أَعيُنُهُمtheir eyes
مِن مَعشَرٍ كُحِلَت بِاللُؤمِ أَعيُنُهُم
قُفدِbent backward الأَكُفِّthe hands لِئامِignoble men غَيرِnot صُيّابِmen of worth
قُفدِ الأَكُفِّ لِئامِ غَيرِ صُيّابِ
from a clan whose eyes are lined with the kohl of baseness,
Of a band whose eyes were blackened with villainy
crooked of hand, ignoble, not men of worth.
Fettered knaves, evil men of no repute
قَولُthe speech اِمرِئٍof a man غَرَّdeceived قَوماًa people مِنabout نُفوسِهِمُtheir own selves
قَولُ اِمرِئٍ غَرَّ قَوماً مِن نُفوسِهِمُ
كَخَرزِlike the stitching مُكرَهَةٍof a woman forced to sew فيin غَيرِthe absence of إِطنابِthorough workmanship
كَخَرزِ مُكرَهَةٍ في غَيرِ إِطنابِ
The speech of a man who deceived a people about themselves
The speech of a man who provoked a people against themselves
is like the stitching of a woman forced to sew, done without care.
Like unwanted beads in a worthless string
هَلّاwhy did you not سَأَلتَyou asked هَداكَmay He guide you اللَهُGod ماwhat حَسَبيmy honor
هَلّا سَأَلتَ هَداكَ اللَهُ ما حَسَبي
إِذاwhen رُعائِيَmy shepherds راحَتreturned at evening قَبلَbefore حُطّابيmy firewood-gatherers
إِذا رُعائِيَ راحَت قَبلَ حُطّابي
Why did you not ask—may God guide you—what honor I can claim,
Why did you not ask, may God guide you, about my lineage
when my shepherds return before my firewood-gatherers?
When my sheep went to pasture before the fuel gatherers
إِنّيindeed I أُقَسِّمُdistribute قِدريmy cooking pot وَهيَwhile it is بارِزَةٌexposed
إِنّي أُقَسِّمُ قِدري وَهيَ بارِزَةٌ
إِذwhen كُلُّevery قِدرٍcooking pot عَروسٌa bride ذاتُhaving جِلبابِan outer cloak
إِذ كُلُّ قِدرٍ عَروسٌ ذاتُ جِلبابِ
Indeed, I share out my pot's contents while it stands in the open,
I share out my fate while it is still on display
when every pot is a bride wrapped in a cloak.
Since each fate is a bride in her wedding clothes
كَأَنَّas though هِنداًHind ثَناياهاher front teeth وَبَهجَتُهاand her radiance
كَأَنَّ هِنداً ثَناياها وَبَهجَتُها
لَمّاwhen اِلتَقَيناwe met عَلىby أَدحالِthe caverns of دَبّابِDabbab
لَمّا اِلتَقَينا عَلى أَدحالِ دَبّابِ
Hind's front teeth and her radiance were like—
As if she were an Indian, her charms and her allure
when we met by the caverns of Dabbab—
When we met on the trampled remains of the encampment
مَوليَّةٌwatered by later rains أُنُفٌungrazed; untouched جادَlavishly rained الرَبيعُspring بِهاupon it
مَوليَّةٌ أُنُفٌ جادَ الرَبيعُ بِها
عَلىon أَبارِقَstony, sandy rises قَدalready هَمَّتwere poised بِإِعشابِto sprout grass
عَلى أَبارِقَ قَد هَمَّت بِإِعشابِ
an ungrazed meadow fed by later rains, richly drenched by spring,
A woman of mine, the spring came forth through her
on stony, sandy rises already poised to sprout grass.
Onto the lightnings that looked to burst into greenery
Sol 6.1