يَصُدُّturns away غُواةُthe wayward الناسِpeople عَنّيfrom me كَأَنَّماas though
يَصُدُّ غُواةُ الناسِ عَنّي كَأَنَّما
يَصُدّونَthey turn away عَنfrom لَيثٍa lion بِخَفّانَat Khaffan خادِرِsheltering in its lair
يَصُدّونَ عَن لَيثٍ بِخَفّانَ خادِرِ
The wayward among men turn away from me, as though
The wrongdoers deter people from me as if
They were turning away from a lion in its lair at Khaffan.
They deter a lion with scared bleating sheep.
وَمُحَتمِلٍand one harboring ضِغناًa grudge عَلَيَّagainst me تَرَكتُهُI left him
وَمُحَتمِلٍ ضِغناً عَلَيَّ تَرَكتُهُ
يُعالِجُstruggles with مِنّيbecause of me غُصَّةًa choking lump بِالحَناجِرِin the throats
يُعالِجُ مِنّي غُصَّةً بِالحَناجِرِ
And many a man who bore a grudge against me I left
Bearing spite against me that I let pass,
Struggling with a choking lump in his throat because of me.
He tries to vent his anger through his throat.
فَماتَso he died فَلَمand did not تَذهَبdepart حَسيفَةُrancor صَدرِهِhis breast
فَماتَ فَلَم تَذهَب حَسيفَةُ صَدرِهِ
يُخَبِّرُreports عَنهُabout him ذاكَthat أَهلُthe dwellers المَقابِرِthe graves
يُخَبِّرُ عَنهُ ذاكَ أَهلُ المَقابِرِ
So he died, yet the rancor in his breast did not depart;
He died but the anger in his chest remained;
The dwellers of the graves report that about him.
His condition is known to the gravediggers.
وَلاand not يُبرِئُcures الدِرياقُthe antidote لَدغيmy sting وَلاnor الرُقىthe healing spells
وَلا يُبرِئُ الدِرياقُ لَدغي وَلا الرُقى
وَلاnor موعِديone who threatens me عِندَat اللِقاءِthe encounter بِضائِريharmful to me
وَلا موعِدي عِندَ اللِقاءِ بِضائِري
And neither antidote nor healing spells can cure my sting;
The antidote cannot cure my bite, or spells,
Nor can the one who threatens me harm me when we meet.
Nor the day I meet my victims for revenge.
وَإِنّيand indeed I لَمِزجاءٌsurely a hard driver لِمُهريof my colt عَلىdespite الوَجيhoof soreness
وَإِنّي لَمِزجاءٌ لِمُهري عَلى الوَجي
وَتارِكُهُand leaving him يَشكوhe complains of بُطونَthe undersides الدَوابِرِthe hoof-heels
وَتارِكُهُ يَشكو بُطونَ الدَوابِرِ
And indeed I drive my colt hard despite his sore hooves,
I do not care for my paid assassin;
And leave him complaining of the sore undersides of his hoof-heels.
I leave him complaining of saddle sores.
فَإِنfor if أُدعَI call upon يَومَthe day of الرَوعِterror حَسبيmy lineage أَجابَنيanswered me
فَإِن أُدعَ يَومَ الرَوعِ حَسبي أَجابَني
ذَوُوmen possessing حَسَبٍnoble lineage فيat ذِروَةِthe summit المَجدِglory فاخِرِillustrious
ذَوُو حَسَبٍ في ذِروَةِ المَجدِ فاخِرِ
For if I call upon my lineage on the day of terror, I am answered
If called on the day of panic I will answer;
By men of illustrious lineage at the summit of glory.
Men of repute, at the peak of glory proud.
Sol 6.1