طَرِبتُI was stirred with longing وَهاجَنيand roused me البَرقُthe lightning اليَمانيYemeni
طَرِبتُ وَهاجَني البَرقُ اليَماني
وَذَكَّرَنيand reminded me المَنازِلَthe dwellings وَالمَغانيand the haunts
وَذَكَّرَني المَنازِلَ وَالمَغاني
I was stirred with longing, and the lightning of Yemen roused me,
I thrilled and yearned when lightning lit Yemen’s sky,
And reminded me of the dwellings and the haunts,
Recalling homes and songs of love gone by.
وَأَضرَمَand kindled فيin صَميمِthe core of القَلبِthe heart ناراًa fire
وَأَضرَمَ في صَميمِ القَلبِ ناراً
كَضَربيlike my striking بِالحُسامِwith the keen sword الهُندُوانيIndian
كَضَربي بِالحُسامِ الهُندُواني
And kindled a fire in the very core of my heart,
It sparked a blaze within my heart’s deep core,
Like my blows with the keen Indian sword.
As blows my sword, a flaming torch spun high.
لَعَمرُكَby your life ماnot رِماحُthe spears of بَنيthe sons of بَغيضٍBaghid
لَعَمرُكَ ما رِماحُ بَني بَغيضٍ
تَخونُbetray أَكُفَّهُمtheir palms يَومَon the day of الطِعانِspear-fighting
تَخونُ أَكُفَّهُم يَومَ الطِعانِ
By your life, the spears of Banu Baghid do not
By God, no coward spears in ambush lie
Betray their hands on the day of spear-fighting.
When warriors of Baghdad charge and vie!
وَلاnor أَسيافُهُمtheir swords فيin الحَربِwar تَنبوglance off
وَلا أَسيافُهُم في الحَربِ تَنبو
إِذاwhen عُرِفَis distinguished الشُجاعُthe brave man مِنَfrom الجَبانِthe coward
إِذا عُرِفَ الشُجاعُ مِنَ الجَبانِ
Nor do their swords glance off in battle,
Their blades flash bright when bold meets craven heart,
When the brave man is distinguished from the coward.
As each is known - the brave, the coward's cry.
وَلَكِنand yet يَضرِبونَthey strike الجَيشَthe army ضَرباًblows
وَلَكِن يَضرِبونَ الجَيشَ ضَرباً
وَيَقرونَand feed as guests النُسورَthe vultures بِلاwithout جِفانِserving bowls
وَيَقرونَ النُسورَ بِلا جِفانِ
But they strike the army blow upon blow,
With stunning force they smash the enemy,
And feast the vultures without serving bowls,
While vultures shun the plain and turn to fly.
وَيَقتَحِمونَand plunge into أَهوالَthe terrors of المَناياdeaths
وَيَقتَحِمونَ أَهوالَ المَنايا
غَداةَon the morning of الكَرِّthe charge فيin الحَربِthe war العَوانِrenewed
غَداةَ الكَرِّ في الحَربِ العَوانِ
And plunge into the terrors of death,
They brave the jaws of death when battle calls,
On the morning of the charge in the renewed war.
As war drums sound the charge, the horse's neigh.
أَعَبلَةُO Abla لَوif سَأَلتِyou asked الرُمحَthe spear عَنّيabout me
أَعَبلَةُ لَو سَأَلتِ الرُمحَ عَنّي
أَجابَكِit would answer you وَهوَwhile it is مُنطَلِقُunfettered اللِسانِthe tongue
أَجابَكِ وَهوَ مُنطَلِقُ اللِسانِ
O Abla, if you asked the spear about me,
Ask of my lance, Ablah, and it relates
It would answer you, its tongue unfettered,
In tongue unbridled, while you stand close by
بِأَنّيthat I قَدindeed طَرَقتُI raided by night ديارَthe dwellings of تَيمٍTaym
بِأَنّي قَد طَرَقتُ ديارَ تَيمٍ
بِكُلِّwith every غَضَنفَرٍlion ثَبتِsteadfast الجَنانِthe heart
بِكُلِّ غَضَنفَرٍ ثَبتِ الجَنانِ
That I had raided the dwellings of Taym by night,
How we marched on Teym's abodes one day,
With every lion, steadfast of heart.
Each knight peerless, each steed fierce and spry.
وَخُضتُand I plunged through غُبارَهاits dust وَالخَيلُwhile the horses تَهويhurtle
وَخُضتُ غُبارَها وَالخَيلُ تَهوي
وَسَيفيand my sword وَالقَناand the spears فَرَساtwo steeds رِهانِa wagered race
وَسَيفي وَالقَنا فَرَسا رِهانِ
And I plunged through its dust while the horses hurtled,
We stirred the dust as horses reared on high,
And my sword and the spears were two steeds in a race.
My sword and spear two stakes I dare not fly.
وَإِنand even if طَرِبَrejoiced الرِجالُthe men بِشُربِby drinking خَمرٍwine
وَإِن طَرِبَ الرِجالُ بِشُربِ خَمرٍ
وَغَيَّبَand clouded رُشدَهُمtheir judgment خَمرُthe wine of الدِنانِthe jars
وَغَيَّبَ رُشدَهُم خَمرُ الدِنانِ
And even if men rejoice in drinking wine,
If drink beguiles some men till sense has fled
And wine from the jars clouds their judgment,
And wine of casks has dulled the drunkard's eye,
فَرُشديyet my judgment لاnot يُغَيِّبُهُclouds it مُدامٌwine
فَرُشدي لا يُغَيِّبُهُ مُدامٌ
وَلاnor أُصغيI listen لِقَهقَهَةِto the loud laughter of القَنانيthe bottles
وَلا أُصغي لِقَهقَهَةِ القَناني
Yet my judgment is not clouded by wine,
No draft makes my reason slip away;
Nor do I listen to the loud laughter of bottles.
No sip makes me heed the reveler's cry.
وَبَدرٌand Badr قَدindeed تَرَكناهُwe left him طَريحاًlying prone
وَبَدرٌ قَد تَرَكناهُ طَريحاً
كَأَنَّas though عَلَيهِupon him حُلَّةَa robe of أُرجُوانِcrimson
كَأَنَّ عَلَيهِ حُلَّةَ أُرجُوانِ
And Badr—we have left him lying prone,
Prone lies Badr we left as clay-hued corse,
As though he wore a robe of crimson.
As cloaked in purple dyed a prince laid by.
شَكَكتُI pierced فُؤادَهُhis heart لَمّاwhen تَوَلّىhe turned away
شَكَكتُ فُؤادَهُ لَمّا تَوَلّى
بِصَدرِwith the head of مُثَقَّفٍa straightened spear ماضيkeen السِنانِthe spearhead
بِصَدرِ مُثَقَّفٍ ماضي السِنانِ
I pierced his heart when he turned away,
I pierced his breast with aged spear right through
With the head of a straightened spear, keen of point.
When he abandoned the fray and turned to fly.
فَخَرَّso he fell عَلىupon صَعيدِthe surface of الأَرضِthe earth مُلقىًcast down
فَخَرَّ عَلى صَعيدِ الأَرضِ مُلقىً
عَفيرَdust-covered الخَدِّthe cheek مَخضوبَblood-stained البَنانِthe fingertips
عَفيرَ الخَدِّ مَخضوبَ البَنانِ
So he fell upon the face of the earth, cast down,
He fell stretched out on earth's bare floor, dust-smirched,
His cheek dust-covered, his fingertips blood-stained.
Cheek gashed, side bleeding crimson from sword ply.
وَعُدناand we returned وَالفَخارُand glory لَناfor us لِباسٌa garment
وَعُدنا وَالفَخارُ لَنا لِباسٌ
نَسودُwe hold sway بِهِthrough it عَلىover أَهلِthe people of الزَمانِthe age
نَسودُ بِهِ عَلى أَهلِ الزَمانِ
And we returned, with glory as our garment,
We turned away; our glory raiment fair
Through it we hold sway over the people of our time.
Which we don o'er all people of this time.
Sol 6.1