يُمسيhe spends the evening ضَجيعَbedfellow خَريدَةٍa virgin maiden وَمُضاجِعيand my bedfellow
يُمسي ضَجيعَ خَريدَةٍ وَمُضاجِعي
عَضبٌa keen sword رَقيقُthin الشَفرَتَينِthe two edges حُسامُa cleaving sword
عَضبٌ رَقيقُ الشَفرَتَينِ حُسامُ
He spends the evening beside a maiden, while my bedfellow
My bedfellow sleeps while I keep vigil,
is a keen, cleaving sword, thin at both edges.
With a sword, sharp and keen of edge.
وَالحَربُand war حِرفَتُناour trade وَبِئسَتand wretched is حِرفَةٌa trade
وَالحَربُ حِرفَتُنا وَبِئسَت حِرفَةٌ
إِلّاexcept لِمَنfor whoever هُوَhe فيin الوَغىbattle مِقدامُdauntless
إِلّا لِمَن هُوَ في الوَغى مِقدامُ
And war is our trade—and a wretched trade it is,
War is our livelihood, a wretched trade,
except for one who is dauntless in battle.
Save for one with courage amidst the fray.
نُعريwe bare السُيوفَthe swords فَلاso do not تَزالُcease to be عَوارِياًbare
نُعري السُيوفَ فَلا تَزالُ عَوارِياً
حَتّىuntil تَكونَbecome جُفونَهُنَّtheir scabbards الهامُthe heads
حَتّى تَكونَ جُفونَهُنَّ الهامُ
We bare the swords, and they remain naked
We bare our blades that remain sheathed
until heads become their scabbards.
Until their very hilts bring death.
وَالمَوتُand death يَسبِقُناoutstrips us إِلىtoward أَعدائِناour enemies
وَالمَوتُ يَسبِقُنا إِلى أَعدائِنا
تَهفوflutter بِهِwith it الراياتُthe banners وَالأَعلامِand the standards
تَهفو بِهِ الراياتُ وَالأَعلامِ
And death races ahead of us toward our enemies;
Yet death precedes us to our foes,
the banners and standards flutter with it.
Yearned for by banners and flags.
Sol 6.1