مَوْلاتُناour mistress ياO غُلامُboy مُبْتَكِرَهْarriving early
مَوْلاتُنا يا غُلامُ مُبْتَكِرَهْ
فَباكِرِso bring early الكَأْسَthe wine-cup لِيْfor me بِلاَwithout نَظِرَهْdelay
فَباكِرِ الكَأْسَ لِيْ بِلاَ نَظِرَهْ
Our mistress, boy, has come early;
Our lord, O early rising lad
so bring me the cup early, without delay.
Serve the wine cup to me without delay
غَدَتْshe went out early علىfor اللّهوِrevelry والمُجونِand wantonness علىdespite
غَدَتْ على اللّهوِ والمُجونِ على
أَنَّthat الفَتاةَthe maiden الحَيِيّةَbashful الخَفِرَهْdemure
أَنَّ الفَتاةَ الحَيِيّةَ الخَفِرَهْ
She has gone out for revelry and wantonness, although
The next day, to entertainment and fun
the maiden is bashful and demure.
As if the modest, lively, young girl
لِحُبِّهاfor love of her لاmay not عَدِمْتُهاI lose her حُرَقٌburning pangs
لِحُبِّها لا عَدِمْتُها حُرَقٌ
مَطْوِيّةٌfolded away فيin الحَشَاthe breast ومُنْتَشِرَهْand spreading
مَطْوِيّةٌ في الحَشَا ومُنْتَشِرَهْ
Love of her—may I never lose her—brings burning pangs,
For love of her, I felt no loss
folded within my breast and spreading.
Folded, in the night, widespread
ماnot ذُقْتُI tasted منهاof her سِوىexcept مُقبَّلِهاher lips
ما ذُقْتُ منها سِوى مُقبَّلِها
وَضَمِّand clasping تلكَthose الفُروعِthe branches of hair مُنْحَدِرَهْhanging down
وَضَمِّ تلكَ الفُروعِ مُنْحَدِرَهْ
I have tasted nothing of her but her lips
I have not tasted of her except her kisses
and clasping those drooping branches of hair.
And the embrace of her cascading branches
وانْتَهَرَتْنيand she scolded me فَمِتُّso I died مِنْfrom فَرَقٍfright
وانْتَهَرَتْني فَمِتُّ مِنْ فَرَقٍ
ياO حُسْنَهاher beauty فيin الرِّضَاcontentment ومُنْتَهِرَهْand scolding
يا حُسْنَها في الرِّضَا ومُنْتَهِرَهْ
And she scolded me, so I died of fright.
She rebuked me, so I died of separation
Ah, how beautiful she is when pleased, and when she scolds!
Oh her beauty in consent and refusal
ثُمَّthen انْثَنَتْturned back سَوْرَةُthe surge الخُمارِwine's lingering stupor بناwith us
ثُمَّ انْثَنَتْ سَوْرَةُ الخُمارِ بنا
خِلالَamid تلكَthose الغَدائرِthe braids الخَمِرَهْdense
خِلالَ تلكَ الغَدائرِ الخَمِرَهْ
Then the surge of wine's lingering stupor turned us back
Then the veil of her veil inclined toward us
amid those dense braids.
Through that intoxicating, redolent hair
ولَيْلَةٍand many a night أَشْرَفَتْloomed بِكَلْكَلِهاwith its breast
ولَيْلَةٍ أَشْرَفَتْ بِكَلْكَلِها
عَلَيَّover me كالطّيْلَسَانِlike a head-shawl مُعْتَجِرَهْswathed about the head
عَلَيَّ كالطّيْلَسَانِ مُعْتَجِرَهْ
And many a night loomed with its breast
On a night that leaned toward me
over me, swathed like a head-shawl.
Like a new moon, turbanned
فَتّقْتُI tore open دَيْجُورَهَاits pitch-darkness إلىtoward قَمَرٍa moon
فَتّقْتُ دَيْجُورَهَا إلى قَمَرٍ
أَثْوابُهُhis robes بالعَفَافِby chastity مُسْتَتِرَهْveiled
أَثْوابُهُ بالعَفَافِ مُسْتَتِرَهْ
I tore its pitch-darkness open toward a moon
So I steered her planet to a moon
whose robes were veiled by chastity.
Whose clothes are veiled in chastity
عُجْturn عَبَراتِthe tears المُدامِof wine نَحوِيَtoward me مِنْfrom
عُجْ عَبَراتِ المُدامِ نَحوِيَ مِنْ
عَشْرٍten وعِشْرينَand twenty واثْنَتَيْand two عَشَرَهْten
عَشْرٍ وعِشْرينَ واثْنَتَيْ عَشَرَهْ
Turn wine's tears toward me, from
Urge the steps of the wine bearer toward me
ten, twenty, and twelve years.
Twelve, twenty-two, thirty-two
قَدْalready ذكرَmentioned الناسُthe people عنof قِيامِهِمُtheir rising
قَدْ ذكرَ الناسُ عن قِيامِهِمُ
ذِكْرَىa recollection بِعَقْليin my mind أَصْبَحتْhas become نَكرَهْunfamiliar
ذِكْرَى بِعَقْلي أَصْبَحتْ نَكرَهْ
People have spoken of their rising—
Though people mention their rising
a recollection that has become strange to my mind.
My mind has forgotten
مَعْرِفَتيmy knowledge بالصَّوابِof what is right مَعْرِفَةٌa knowledge
مَعْرِفَتي بالصَّوابِ مَعْرِفَةٌ
غَرَّاءُresplendent إِمّاif عَرَفْتُمُyou recognize النّكرهْthe unfamiliar
غَرَّاءُ إِمّا عَرَفْتُمُ النّكرهْ
My knowledge of right is a knowledge
My knowledge of right - exalted knowledge
resplendent—if you recognize the unfamiliar.
Praiseworthy, whether you know the unknown
ياO عَجَباًa wonder مِنْat أَبيmy father الخَبيثِvile ومِنْand at
يا عَجَباً مِنْ أَبي الخَبيثِ ومِنْ
سُروحِهِhis roaming فيin البَقَائرِthe sleeveless tunics الدَّثِرَهْthreadbare
سُروحِهِ في البَقَائرِ الدَّثِرَهْ
Ah, how astonishing are my vile father and
Oh, the wonder of my wicked father and his
his roaming in threadbare sleeveless tunics!
Putrid brain inside a rubbish heap
يَحملُhe carries رَأْساًa head تَنْبُوrebound المعاوِلُthe pickaxes عنْfrom
يَحملُ رَأْساً تَنْبُو المعاوِلُ عنْ
صَفْحَتِهِits surface والجَلامِدُand the boulders الوَعِرَهْrugged
صَفْحَتِهِ والجَلامِدُ الوَعِرَهْ
He bears a head: pickaxes rebound from
Bearing a head which tools recoil from
its surface, and rugged boulders too.
And solid rocks avoid
لَوِif البِغَالُthe mules الكُمْتُdark-bay ارْتَقَتْclimbed سَنَداًa slope
لَوِ البِغَالُ الكُمْتُ ارْتَقَتْ سَنَداً
فيهِon it لَمدَّتْthey would stretch out قَوائِماًlegs خَدِرَهْnumb
فيهِ لَمدَّتْ قَوائِماً خَدِرَهْ
Were the dark-bay mules to climb a slope
If plodding mules ascended his body
on it, they would stretch out numbed legs.
They would stretch out paralyzed legs
ومَاand not المَجانيقُthe catapults فيهagainst it مُغْنِيَةٌof any use
ومَا المَجانيقُ فيه مُغْنِيَةٌ
أَلْفٌa thousand تَسَامَىrise high وأَلْفُand a thousand مُنْكَدِرَهْplunging down
أَلْفٌ تَسَامَى وأَلْفُ مُنْكَدِرَهْ
Nor are catapults of any use against it:
A thousand catapults could not help him
a thousand soaring, and a thousand plunging down.
Rising and falling again without effect
أُنْظُرْlook إلىat مَوْضعِthe place المَقَصِّof the shears مِنَon الهَاstart of 'the head'
أُنْظُرْ إلى مَوْضعِ المَقَصِّ مِنَ الهَا
مَةِend of 'head' تلكَthat الصَّفيحةِthe slab العَجِرَهْknobbly
مَةِ تلكَ الصَّفيحةِ العَجِرَهْ
Look at where the shears go upon the
Look at the place of his skull blade
head—that knobbly slab.
That rough, coarse plate
فَلَوْso if أَخَذْتُمْyou took لهاto it المَطَارِقَthe hammers حَرَّاstart of 'Harranian'
فَلَوْ أَخَذْتُمْ لها المَطَارِقَ حَرَّا
نِيّةًend of 'Harranian' صَنْعَةَthe workmanship اليَدِof the hand الخَبِرَهْexpert
نِيّةً صَنْعَةَ اليَدِ الخَبِرَهْ
Had you taken to it hammers from
If you took the hammers to it intensely
Harran, wrought by an expert hand,
With the skilled hand's artistry
إذاًthen لَرَاحَتْwould come away أَكُفُّthe palms جُلّتِهِمْof their finest men
إذاً لَرَاحَتْ أَكُفُّ جُلّتِهِمْ
كَلِيلَةًweary والأَداةُand the tool مُنْكَسِرَهْbroken
كَلِيلَةً والأَداةُ مُنْكَسِرَهْ
then their finest men's palms would come away
Then the fists of his skull would go
wearied, and the tool shattered.
Shattered, and the tools smashed
كَمْhow many طَرَباتٍraptures أَفْسَدْتَهُنَّyou spoiled them وكَمْand how much
كَمْ طَرَباتٍ أَفْسَدْتَهُنَّ وكَمْ
صَفْوَةِpure sweetness عَيْشٍof life غَادَرْتَهاyou left it كَدرَهْclouded
صَفْوَةِ عَيْشٍ غَادَرْتَها كَدرَهْ
How many raptures you have spoiled, and how much
How many happy times you have ruined
of life's clear sweetness you have left clouded!
And how much good living you have embittered
وكَمْand how many إذاwhen ماever (emphasis) رَأَوْكَthey see you ياO مَلَكَangel of المstart of 'death'
وكَمْ إذا ما رَأَوْكَ يا مَلَكَ الم
وتِend of 'death' لهمْthey have مِنْof أَنامِلٍfingertips خَصِرَهْnumb with cold
وتِ لهمْ مِنْ أَنامِلٍ خَصِرَهْ
And how many—when they see you, O angel of
And how many, when they see you death's angel
death—are their cold-numb fingertips!
Clench their fingers in lament
وكَمْand how many لَهُمْthey have دَعْوَةٌa curse عليكَagainst you وكَمْand how many
وكَمْ لَهُمْ دَعْوَةٌ عليكَ وكَمْ
قَذْفَةِa slander أَمٍّof a mother شَنْعاءَhideous مُشْتَهِرَهْnotorious
قَذْفَةِ أَمٍّ شَنْعاءَ مُشْتَهِرَهْ
And how many curses they have against you, and how many
And how many curses upon you, and how many
hideous, notorious slanders against a mother,
Vile, notorious mothers' stones are cast
كَرِيمَةٍnoble لُؤْمُكَyour baseness اسْتَخَفَّmade light بهاof her
كَرِيمَةٍ لُؤْمُكَ اسْتَخَفَّ بها
ونالَهاand harmed her بالمَثَالِبِwith disgraceful faults الأَشِرَهْwanton
ونالَها بالمَثَالِبِ الأَشِرَهْ
a noble woman your baseness made light of
Noble woman, whom you toyed with
and stained with wanton vices.
And gained through the most evil treacheries
قِفُواstop علىat رَحْلِهِhis dwelling تَرَوْاyou will see عَجَباًa marvel
قِفُوا على رَحْلِهِ تَرَوْا عَجَباً
فيin الجَهْلِignorance يَحْكيresembles طَرائِفَcuriosities البَصَرَهْBasra
في الجَهْلِ يَحْكي طَرائِفَ البَصَرَهْ
Stop at his dwelling; you will see a marvel
Stop at his luggage, you will see wonders
of ignorance, rivaling Basra's curiosities.
Describing the curiosities of Basra
ياO كُلَّevery مَنْيٍdoom وكُلَّand every طالِعَةٍrising sign
يا كُلَّ مَنْيٍ وكُلَّ طالِعَةٍ
نَحْسٍof ill omen وياand O كُلَّevery سَاعةٍhour عَسِرَهْgrievous
نَحْسٍ ويا كُلَّ سَاعةٍ عَسِرَهْ
O every doom, and every rising sign
O every loathsome star and every
of ill omen, and O every grievous hour!
Hour of ill luck and hardship
سُبْحانَglory be to مَنْHim who يُمْسِكُholds up السّماءَthe sky علىabove الthe
سُبْحانَ مَنْ يُمْسِكُ السّماءَ على ال
أرْضearth وفيهاand in it أَخْلاقُكَyour ways القَذرَهْfilthy
أرْض وفيها أَخْلاقُكَ القَذرَهْ
Glory to Him who holds the sky above the
Glory to Him who holds up the sky over
earth, with your filthy ways upon it!
The earth in which your foul morals exist
Sol 6.1