بِقَلبيin my heart لِلنَوائِبِfrom calamities جانِحاتٍswooping down
بِقَلبي لِلنَوائِبِ جانِحاتٍ
عِماقُdeep القَعرِin depth مُؤنِسَةُkeeping company with الأَواسيthe healers
عِماقُ القَعرِ مُؤنِسَةُ الأَواسي
In my heart, from calamities swooping down,
lie deep wounds that keep the healers company.
أُقارِعُI battle شَغبَهاtheir tumult لَوif only كانَwere يُغنيof use
أُقارِعُ شَغبَها لَو كانَ يُغني
قِراعيmy battling لِلنَوائِبِagainst calamities أَوor مِراسيmy grappling
قِراعي لِلنَوائِبِ أَو مِراسي
I battle their tumult—if only there were any use
in my battling calamities or grappling with them.
وَتَعذِمُنيand they nip me فَتُخطيyet miss صَفحَتَيهاtheir two flanks
وَتَعذِمُني فَتُخطي صَفحَتَيها
عَذاميmy nipping يَومَwhen أَعذِمُI nip أَوor ضَراسيmy grinding bites
عَذامي يَومَ أَعذِمُ أَو ضَراسي
They bite me, yet their two flanks escape
my nipping, when I nip, or my grinding bites.
كَأَنّيas though I بَينَbetween قادِمَتَيthe two forepaws of نَزورٍa seldom-bearing lioness
كَأَنّي بَينَ قادِمَتَي نَزورٍ
تُراوِحُshe alternates بَينَbetween وَلغيlapping my blood وَاِنتِهاسيand tearing my flesh
تُراوِحُ بَينَ وَلغي وَاِنتِهاسي
As though I were between the forepaws of a lioness that seldom bears,
who alternates between lapping my blood and tearing my flesh.
وَلَمand did not يَلبِثنَthey linger غِربانُthe ravens of اللَياليthe nights
وَلَم يَلبِثنَ غِربانُ اللَيالي
نَغيقاًcroaking أَنbefore أَطَرنَthey drove away غُرابَthe raven of راسيmy head
نَغيقاً أَن أَطَرنَ غُرابَ راسي
The ravens of the nights had scarcely begun
croaking before they drove the raven from my head.
وَماand did not زالَcease الزَمانُtime يَحيفُoppressing حَتّىuntil
وَما زالَ الزَمانُ يَحيفُ حَتّى
نَزَعتُI took off لَهُfor it عَلىwith مَضَضٍanguish لِباسيmy robe
نَزَعتُ لَهُ عَلى مَضَضٍ لِباسي
Time kept oppressing me until
I stripped off my robe for it in anguish.
نَضاit stripped عَنّيfrom me السَوادَblackness بِلاwithout مُراديmy willing it
نَضا عَنّي السَوادَ بِلا مُرادي
وَأَعطانيand gave me البَياضَwhiteness بِلاwithout التِماسيmy asking
وَأَعطاني البَياضَ بِلا التِماسي
It stripped me of blackness against my will,
and gave me whiteness without my asking.
أَروعُI frighten بِهِwith it الظِباءَthe gazelles وَقَدthough once أَرانيI saw myself
أَروعُ بِهِ الظِباءَ وَقَد أَراني
زَميلاًa companion لِلغَزالِto the gazelle إِلىas far as الكِناسِthe covert
زَميلاً لِلغَزالِ إِلى الكِناسِ
With it I frighten the gazelles, though once I saw myself
as the gazelle's companion, right into its covert.
لِمَسقِطِfor the falling of حامِلِthe bearer of الشَعَراتِthe hairs عَنّيfrom me
لِمَسقِطِ حامِلِ الشَعَراتِ عَنّي
بِحَدِّby the edge of السَيفِthe sword فيon اليَومِthe day العَماسِdark and fierce
بِحَدِّ السَيفِ في اليَومِ العَماسِ
For the bearer of these hairs to fall from me,
by the sword's edge on a grim day of battle,
أَحَبُّdearer إِلَيَّto me مِنthan نَزعيmy taking off رِداءًa cloak
أَحَبُّ إِلَيَّ مِن نَزعي رِداءً
كَسانيهِclothed me in it الشَبابُyouth وَأَيُّand what a كاسِgiver of clothing
كَسانيهِ الشَبابُ وَأَيُّ كاسِ
is dearer to me than taking off a cloak
that youth clothed me in—and what a giver of robes!
وَأَخلَقَand grew threadbare وَهوَwhile it يُذكِرُنيreminds me of التَصابيyouthful dalliance
وَأَخلَقَ وَهوَ يُذكِرُني التَصابي
وَعودُand a bough of النَبعِthe nabʿ tree يَغمِزُis tested by bending وَهوَthough it is عاسٍhard and dry
وَعودُ النَبعِ يَغمِزُ وَهوَ عاسٍ
It has grown threadbare, yet reminds me of youthful dalliance;
and a nabʿ bough is tested by bending, though hard and dry.
وَدَدتُI wished بِأَنَّthat ماwhat تَخبىhold in store المَواضيthe keen swords
وَدَدتُ بِأَنَّ ما تَخبى المَواضي
بَدالٌa substitute ليfor me بِماin exchange for what جَنَتِhave reaped المَواسيthe razors
بَدالٌ لي بِما جَنَتِ المَواسي
I wish that what the keen swords hold in store
were mine in exchange for what the razors have reaped.
وَبَغَّضَنيand made me hateful المَشيبُgray hair إِلىto لِداتيmy peers
وَبَغَّضَني المَشيبُ إِلى لِداتي
وَهَوَّنَنيand cheapened me البَقاءُliving on عَلىin the eyes of أُناسيmy people
وَهَوَّنَني البَقاءُ عَلى أُناسي
Gray hair has made me hateful to my peers,
and living on has cheapened me among my people.
خُذواtake hold بِأَزِمَّتيof my reins فَلَقَدfor indeed أَرانيI find myself
خُذوا بِأَزِمَّتي فَلَقَد أَراني
قَليلاًseldom ماever يَلينُyields لَكُمto you شِماسيmy unruliness
قَليلاً ما يَلينُ لَكُم شِماسي
Take hold of my reins, for I find
that my unruliness rarely yields to you.
أَليسَis it not إِلىto الثَلاثينَthirty اِنتِسابيmy belonging
أَليسَ إِلى الثَلاثينَ اِنتِسابي
وَلَمand not yet أَبلُغI have reached إِلىto القُلَلِthe summits الرَواسيfirmly rooted
وَلَم أَبلُغ إِلى القُلَلِ الرَواسي
Is not my age reckoned at thirty,
though I have not reached the steadfast summits?
فَمَنso who دَلَّguided المَشيبَgray hair عَلىto عِذاريmy cheek's down
فَمَن دَلَّ المَشيبَ عَلى عِذاري
وَماand what جَرَّbrought الذَبولَwithering عَلىupon غِراسيmy saplings
وَما جَرَّ الذَبولَ عَلى غِراسي
Who, then, guided gray hair to my cheek's down,
and what brought withering upon my saplings?
سَأَبكيI shall weep لِلشَبابِfor youth بِشارِداتٍwith far-ranging verses
سَأَبكي لِلشَبابِ بِشارِداتٍ
كَصارِدَةِlike piercing السِهامِarrows عَنِfrom القِياسِthe bows
كَصارِدَةِ السِهامِ عَنِ القِياسِ
I shall weep for youth in far-ranging verses,
like piercing arrows loosed from bows.
يُعَلِّلُsoothes شَدوَهاtheir song الطَلحَthe travel-worn camel المُعَنّىthe tormented
يُعَلِّلُ شَدوَها الطَلحَ المُعَنّى
إِذاwhen سَقَطَfall العَصيُّthe staffs مِنَfrom النُعاسِdrowsiness
إِذا سَقَطَ العَصيُّ مِنَ النُعاسِ
Their song soothes the travel-worn, tormented camel,
when drowsiness makes the driving-staffs fall.
فَمَنso whoever يَكُmay be ناسِياًforgetful of عَهداًa bond فَإِنّيthen indeed I
فَمَن يَكُ ناسِياً عَهداً فَإِنّي
لِعَهدِكَof your bond ياO شَبابيmy youth غَيرُnot ناسِforgetful
لِعَهدِكَ يا شَبابي غَيرُ ناسِ
Whoever may forget a bond, I
am not forgetful of yours, O my youth.
وَكُنتُand I was عَليكَover you مَعeven with طَمَعيmy hope جَزوعاًanguished
وَكُنتُ عَليكَ مَع طَمَعي جَزوعاً
فَكيفَso how يَكونُwill be وَجديmy grief بَعدَafter ياسيmy despair
فَكيفَ يَكونُ وَجدي بَعدَ ياسي
I grieved for you even while I still had hope;
how, then, is my grief now that I despair?
لَضاعَsurely is wasted بُكاءُthe weeping of مَنwhoever يَبكيكَweeps for you شَجواًin sorrow
لَضاعَ بُكاءُ مَن يَبكيكَ شَجواً
ضَياعَthe wasting of الدَمعِtears بِالطَلَلِat the campsite's ruins الطَماسِobliterated
ضَياعَ الدَمعِ بِالطَلَلِ الطَماسِ
Surely the weeping of one who mourns you in sorrow is wasted,
like tears wasted at an obliterated encampment.
وَلوand if أَجدىavailed البُكاءُweeping عَلىfor نَوارٍNawar
وَلو أَجدى البُكاءُ عَلى نَوارٍ
لَأَعياwould have exhausted الدَمعُtears عَينَthe eye of أَبيAbu فِراسِFiras
لَأَعيا الدَمعُ عَينَ أَبي فِراسِ
And had weeping been of any use for Nawar,
tears would have worn out Abu Firas's eye.
فَإِنَّfor indeed العَيشَlife بَعدَكَafter you غَيرُno عَيشٍlife
فَإِنَّ العَيشَ بَعدَكَ غَيرُ عَيشٍ
وَإِنَّand indeed الناسَpeople بَعدَكَafter you غَيرُno ناسِpeople
وَإِنَّ الناسَ بَعدَكَ غَيرُ ناسِ
For life after you is no life,
and people after you are no people.
Sol 6.1