قِفhalt بِالدِيارِat the dwellings وَصِحand cry out إِلىtoward بَيداهاtheir wilderness
قِف بِالدِيارِ وَصِح إِلى بَيداها
فَعَسىfor perhaps الدِيارُthe dwellings تُجيبُwill answer مَنwhoever ناداهاcalls to them
فَعَسى الدِيارُ تُجيبُ مَن ناداها
Halt at the dwellings and cry out toward their wilderness;
Stop at the abodes and call out to their ruins
For perhaps the dwellings will answer whoever calls to them.
Perhaps the dwellings will answer one who called them
دارٌa dwelling يَفوحُwafts المِسكُmusk مِنfrom عَرَصاتِهاits courtyards
دارٌ يَفوحُ المِسكُ مِن عَرَصاتِها
وَالعودُand aloeswood وَالنَدُّand blended incense الذَكِيُّfragrant جَناهاits harvest
وَالعودُ وَالنَدُّ الذَكِيُّ جَناها
A dwelling from whose courtyards musk wafts,
An abode where musk exudes from its patio
And aloeswood and fragrant incense are its harvest.
And fragrant wood and reeds surround it
دارٌa dwelling لِعَبلَةَbelonging to Abla شَطَّis far away عَنكَfrom you مَزارُهa visit to it
دارٌ لِعَبلَةَ شَطَّ عَنكَ مَزارُه
وَنَأَتand she has gone far away لَعَمريby my life ماnot أَراكَI think you تَراهاwill see her
وَنَأَت لَعَمري ما أَراكَ تَراها
A dwelling of Abla's, too far away for you to visit;
An abode for Abu-l-ʿAlāʾ whose tomb
And she has gone far away—by my life, I doubt you will see her.
Became too distant for me – would that I might see it!
ماwhat بالُis the matter with عَينِكَyour eye لاnot تَمُلُّgrows weary مِنَof البُكاweeping
ما بالُ عَينِكَ لا تَمُلُّ مِنَ البُكا
رَمَدٌeye inflammation بِعَينِكَin your eye أَمor جَفاكَhas forsaken you كَراهاits sleep
رَمَدٌ بِعَينِكَ أَم جَفاكَ كَراها
What ails your eye, never weary of weeping?
Why do your eyes not tire of weeping,
Is your eye inflamed, or has its sleep forsaken you?
Is it sleeplessness in your eyes or does hatred cause it?
ياO صاحِبيmy companion قِفhalt بِالمَطاياwith the mounts ساعَةًa while
يا صاحِبي قِف بِالمَطايا ساعَةً
فيin دارِthe dwelling of عَبلَةَAbla سائِلاًquestioning مَغناهاher dwelling-place
في دارِ عَبلَةَ سائِلاً مَغناها
O my companion, halt the mounts a while
My friend! Stop at the abodes awhile
At Abla's dwelling, questioning the place where she lived.
In the dwelling of Abu-l-ʿAlāʾ asking news of it.
أَمbut كَيفَhow تَسأَلُyou question دِمنَةًa ruined campsite عادِيَّةًancient
أَم كَيفَ تَسأَلُ دِمنَةً عادِيَّةً
سَفَتِhas swept away الجُنوبِthe south wind دِمانَهاits blackened traces وَثَراهاand its soil
سَفَتِ الجُنوبِ دِمانَها وَثَراها
But how can you question an ancient ruined campsite,
How can you ask a temporary land
Whose traces and soil the south wind has swept away?
Its broad southern lands and grassy knolls?
ياO عَبلَAbla قَدindeed هامَis crazed with love الفُؤادُthe heart بِذِكرِكُمat the thought of you all
يا عَبلَ قَد هامَ الفُؤادُ بِذِكرِكُم
وَأَرىand I see دُيونيmy debts ماnot يَحُلُّfalls due قَضاهاtheir repayment
وَأَرى دُيوني ما يَحُلُّ قَضاها
O Abla, my heart is crazed with love at the thought of you,
O Ablah! My heart is consumed with memory of you
And I see my debts, whose payment never falls due.
And I see my debts have no means to repay them
ياO عَبلَAbla إِنif تَبكيyou weep عَلَيَّfor me بِحُرقَةٍwith burning grief
يا عَبلَ إِن تَبكي عَلَيَّ بِحُرقَةٍ
فَلَطالَماfor many a time بَكَتِhave wept for الرِجالُmen نِساهاtheir women
فَلَطالَما بَكَتِ الرِجالُ نِساها
O Abla, if you weep for me with burning grief,
O Ablah! If you weep for me bitterly
For many a time have men wept for their women.
Men have long wept for their women
ياO عَبلَAbla إِنّيindeed I فيin الكَريهَةِbattle ضَيغَمٌa lion
يا عَبلَ إِنّي في الكَريهَةِ ضَيغَمٌ
شَرِسٌfierce إِذاwhen ماan emphatic particle الطَعنُspear-thrusts شَقَّsplit جِباهاforeheads
شَرِسٌ إِذا ما الطَعنُ شَقَّ جِباها
O Abla, in battle I am a lion,
O Ablah! I am wretched, irascible
Fierce when spear-thrusts split foreheads,
Fierce, when the piercing blades split open foreheads
وَدَنَتand draw near كِباشٌrams (champions) مِنto كِباشٍrams (champions) تَصطَليare scorched by
وَدَنَت كِباشٌ مِن كِباشٍ تَصطَلي
نارَthe fire of الكَريهَةِbattle أَوor تَخوضُwade through لَظاهاits blaze
نارَ الكَريهَةِ أَو تَخوضُ لَظاها
And rams close on rams, scorched by
Rams of rams drew near, kindling
The fire of battle, or wading through its blaze.
The fire of war or plunging into its inferno
وَدَناand draws near الشُجاعُthe brave warrior مِنَto الشُجاعِthe brave warrior وَأُشرِعَتand are leveled
وَدَنا الشُجاعُ مِنَ الشُجاعِ وَأُشرِعَت
سُمرُbrown الرِماحِthe spears عَلىwith اِختِلافِthe crossing of قَناهاtheir shafts
سُمرُ الرِماحِ عَلى اِختِلافِ قَناها
And brave man closes on brave man, and leveled are
The valiant approached the valiant and
The brown spears, their shafts crisscrossing.
The tips of spears were bared of diverse make
فَهُناكَthen there أَطعَنُI spear فيin الوَغىthe fray فُرسانَهاits horsemen
فَهُناكَ أَطعَنُ في الوَغى فُرسانَها
طَعناًwith thrusts يَشُقُّthat split قُلوبَهاtheir hearts وَكُلاهاand their kidneys
طَعناً يَشُقُّ قُلوبَها وَكُلاها
There, in the fray, I spear its horsemen
There I stab the steeds of its horsemen
With thrusts that split their hearts and kidneys.
A stab that splits their hearts and both ‘brother’ arms
وَسَليand ask الفَوارِسَthe horsemen يُخبِروكِthey will tell you بِهِمَّتيof my resolve
وَسَلي الفَوارِسَ يُخبِروكِ بِهِمَّتي
وَمَواقِفيand my stands فيin الحَربِwar حينَwhen أَطاهاI tread it
وَمَواقِفي في الحَربِ حينَ أَطاها
And ask the horsemen: they will tell you of my resolve,
Ask the horsemen about my resolve
And my stands in war when I set foot in it.
And my stand in war when it is spread
وَأَزيدُهاand I add to it مِنfrom نارِthe fire of حَربيmy war شُعلَةًa flame
وَأَزيدُها مِن نارِ حَربي شُعلَةً
وَأُثيرُهاand I stir it up حَتّىuntil تَدورَturns رَحاهاits millstone
وَأُثيرُها حَتّى تَدورَ رَحاها
And I add to it a flame from the fire of my war,
I increase its flames with the fire of my war
And I stir it until its millstone turns.
And stir it until its plain whirls
وَأَكُرُّand I charge فيهِمinto them فيamid لَهيبِthe blaze of شُعاعِهاits radiance
وَأَكُرُّ فيهِم في لَهيبِ شُعاعِها
وَأَكونُand I am أَوَّلَthe first واقِدٍkindler بِصَلاهاwith its burning heat
وَأَكونُ أَوَّلَ واقِدٍ بِصَلاها
And I charge into them amid its blazing radiance,
I charge against them amidst the blaze of its flashes
And I am the first to kindle its blaze.
And am the first who lights its first fire
وَأَكونُand I am أَوَّلَthe first ضارِبٍone striking بِمُهَنَّدٍwith an Indian-steel sword
وَأَكونُ أَوَّلَ ضارِبٍ بِمُهَنَّدٍ
يَفريcleaves الجَماجِمَskulls لاnot يُريدُseeks سِواهاanything besides them
يَفري الجَماجِمَ لا يُريدُ سِواها
And I am the first to strike with an Indian blade
I am the first striking with Indian blade
That cleaves skulls, seeking nothing else.
Splitting skulls that desire only them
وَأَكونُand I am أَوَّلَthe first فارِسٍhorseman يَغشىenters الوَغىthe fray
وَأَكونُ أَوَّلَ فارِسٍ يَغشى الوَغى
فَأَقودُso I lead أَوَّلَthe first فارِسٍhorseman يَغشاهاenters it
فَأَقودُ أَوَّلَ فارِسٍ يَغشاها
And I am the first horseman to enter the fray,
I am the first horseman to plunge into the fray
So I lead the first horseman who enters it.
So I lead the first horseman who plunges into it
وَالخَيلُand the horses تَعلَمُknow وَالفَوارِسُand the horsemen أَنَّنيthat I
وَالخَيلُ تَعلَمُ وَالفَوارِسُ أَنَّني
شَيخُthe elder of الحُروبِwars وَكَهلُهاand their man in his prime وَفَتاهاand their youth
شَيخُ الحُروبِ وَكَهلُها وَفَتاها
And the horses know, and the horsemen, that I
The steeds and horsemen know that I
Am the elder of wars, their man in his prime, and their youth.
Am the chieftain of wars – their elder and youth
ياO عَبلَAbla كَمhow many مِنof فارِسٍa horseman خَلَّيتَهُyou have left him
يا عَبلَ كَم مِن فارِسٍ خَلَّيتَهُ
فيin وَسطِthe midst of رابِيَةٍa hillock يَعُدُّhe counts حَصاهاits pebbles
في وَسطِ رابِيَةٍ يَعُدُّ حَصاها
O Abla, how many a horseman you have left
O Ablah! Many horsemen have I left
In the midst of a hillock, counting its pebbles!
In the midst of mellay counting its pebbles
ياO عَبلَAbla كَمhow many مِنof حُرَّةٍa freeborn woman خَلَّيتُهاI have left her
يا عَبلَ كَم مِن حُرَّةٍ خَلَّيتُها
تَبكيshe weeps وَتَنعىand mourns بَعلَهاher husband وَأَخاهاand her brother
تَبكي وَتَنعى بَعلَها وَأَخاها
O Abla, how many a freeborn woman I have left
Many bereaved women have I left
Weeping and mourning her husband and her brother!
Weeping and mourning their husbands and brothers
ياO عَبلَAbla كَمhow many مِنof مُهرَةٍa filly غادَرتُهاI have left her behind
يا عَبلَ كَم مِن مُهرَةٍ غادَرتُها
مِنfrom بَعدِafter صاحِبِهاher rider تَجُرُّdragging خُطاهاher steps
مِن بَعدِ صاحِبِها تَجُرُّ خُطاها
O Abla, how many a filly I have left behind,
Many a wife have I left
After her rider was gone, dragging her steps!
Dragging her skirts after her companion
ياO عَبلَAbla لَوif أَنّيthat I لَقيتُmet كَتيبَةًa host
يا عَبلَ لَو أَنّي لَقيتُ كَتيبَةً
سَبعينَseventy أَلفاًthousand ماnot رَهِبتُI feared لِقاهاmeeting it
سَبعينَ أَلفاً ما رَهِبتُ لِقاها
O Abla, were I to meet a host
O Ablah! Were I to meet a battalion
Seventy thousand strong, I would not fear to face it.
Of seventy thousand I would not dread the meeting
وَأَناand I المَنِيَّةُDeath وَاِبنُand the son of كُلِّevery مَنِيَّةٍdeath
وَأَنا المَنِيَّةُ وَاِبنُ كُلِّ مَنِيَّةٍ
وَسَوادُand the blackness of جِلديmy skin ثَوبُهاher robe وَرِداهاand her cloak
وَسَوادُ جِلدي ثَوبُها وَرِداها
And I am Death, and the son of every death,
I am demise, and son of every demise
And the blackness of my skin is her robe and cloak.
The blackness of my skin its garb and cloak
Sol 6.1