عادَتreturned رِياضُgardens القَوافيthe rhymes وَهيَwhile they are حالِيَةٌadorned
عادَت رِياضُ القَوافي وَهيَ حالِيَةٌ
وَكانَand had صَوَّحَwithered فيهاin them الزَهرُthe flowers وَالعُشُبُand the grass
وَكانَ صَوَّحَ فيها الزَهرُ وَالعُشُبُ
The gardens of rhyme have returned, adorned,
The gardens of poetry have regained their vitality,
The gardens of rhyme have returned, adorned in finery,
Though their flowers and grass had withered.
The flowers and grass flourishing once again.
After the flowers and grass within them had withered away.
وَاِستَرجَعَتand regained دَولَةُrealm الأَقلامِthe pens نَخوَتَهاits pride
وَاِستَرجَعَت دَولَةُ الأَقلامِ نَخوَتَها
وَكانَand had أَدرَكَهاovertaken it الإِعياءُexhaustion وَالتَعَبُand weariness
وَكانَ أَدرَكَها الإِعياءُ وَالتَعَبُ
And the realm of pens has regained its pride,
The inkwells have renewed their vigor,
The realm of the quill has regained its noble spirit,
Though exhaustion and weariness had overtaken it,
After languishing in exhaustion and toil-
After exhaustion and weariness had overtaken it.
بِشاعِرٍthrough a poet عَبقَرِيٍّof genius فيin قَصائِدِهِhis poems
بِشاعِرٍ عَبقَرِيٍّ في قَصائِدِهِ
عِطرٌfragrance وَخَمرٌand wine وَسِحرٌand magic رائِقٌexquisite عَجَبُwondrous
عِطرٌ وَخَمرٌ وَسِحرٌ رائِقٌ عَجَبُ
Through a poet of genius, in whose poems
Thanks to a master poet whose verses
Through a genius poet, in whose verses lie
Are fragrance, wine, and wondrous, exquisite magic.
Are fragrant, intoxicating, beautifully enchanting.
Fragrance, and wine, and a pure, wondrous magic.
فَاِشرَبso drink بِروحِكَwith your soul خَمراًwine كُلُّهاall of it أَرَجٌfragrance
فَاِشرَب بِروحِكَ خَمراً كُلُّها أَرَجٌ
وَاِنشُقand inhale بِروحِكَwith your soul عِطراًperfume كُلُّهُall of it طَرَبُrapture
وَاِنشُق بِروحِكَ عِطراً كُلُّهُ طَرَبُ
So drink with your soul a wine that is all fragrance,
Savor with your soul wine wholly aromatic,
So drink with your soul a wine that is entirely scent,
And inhale with your soul a perfume that is all rapture.
Inhale with your soul a scent wholly delightful.
And inhale with your spirit a fragrance that is pure rapture.
وَاِمرَحand revel بِدُنياin a world جَمالٍbeauty مِنfrom تَصَوُّرِهِhis imagination
وَاِمرَح بِدُنيا جَمالٍ مِن تَصَوُّرِهِ
فَإِنَّهاfor it is السِحرُmagic إِلّاexcept أَنَّهُthat it is أَدَبُliterature
فَإِنَّها السِحرُ إِلّا أَنَّهُ أَدَبُ
And revel in a world of beauty from his imagination,
Revel in a world of beauty from his imagination-
And rejoice in a world of beauty born of his imagination,
For it is magic, except that it is literature.
It is sorcery, though of literary refinement.
For it is sorcery, save that it is literature.
وَاِلبِسand wear مَطارِفَbordered robes حاكَتهاwove them يَراعَتُهُhis reed pen
وَاِلبِس مَطارِفَ حاكَتها يَراعَتُهُ
تَبقىwill endure عَلَيكَupon you وَيَبلىand wears out الخَزُّthe silken cloth وَالقَصَبُand the fine linen
تَبقى عَلَيكَ وَيَبلى الخَزُّ وَالقَصَبُ
And wear the bordered robes his reed pen has woven;
Don his well-tailored garments and they will remain,
And don the cloaks that his reed pen has woven;
They will endure upon you while silken cloth and fine linen wear out.
While silk and satin fray and tear away.
They shall endure upon you, while silk and brocade wear thin.
كَمhow many a دُرَّةٍpearl يَتَمَنّىwishes البَحرُthe sea لَوif only نُسِبَتwere attributed
كَم دُرَّةٍ يَتَمَنّى البَحرُ لَو نُسِبَت
إِلَيهِto it باتَتhas come to إِلىto مَسعودَMasoud تَنتَسِبُtraces its lineage
إِلَيهِ باتَت إِلى مَسعودَ تَنتَسِبُ
How many a pearl the sea wishes were attributed
How many gems the sea wishes were ascribed
How many pearls the sea wishes were attributed
To it now traces its lineage to Masoud!
To it - they belong to Mas'ud, that cannot be denied.
To itself, yet they have come to belong to Massoud.
لَوif أَنَّهاthat it فيهِin it لَمdid not تَهتَجrage غَوارِبُهُits wave-crests
لَو أَنَّها فيهِ لَم تَهتَج غَوارِبُهُ
لَكِنَّهاbut it لِسِواهُto someone other than it فَهوَso it يَصطَخِبُroars
لَكِنَّها لِسِواهُ فَهوَ يَصطَخِبُ
If it were within the sea, its wave-crests would not rage;
Were they to adorn its depths, waves would not roar,
Had they remained within the deep, its waves would not rage,
But it belongs to another, so the sea roars.
But belonging to another, angrily they stir and pour.
But they belong to another, so it crashes in clamor.
فَلاso no جَناحٌblame إِذاif ماemphatic particle قالَsays شاعِرُناour poet
فَلا جَناحٌ إِذا ما قالَ شاعِرُنا
لِلبَحرِto the sea ياO بَحرُsea أَغلىthe most precious الدُرِّthe pearls ماwhat أَهَبُI bestow
لِلبَحرِ يا بَحرُ أَغلى الدُرِّ ما أَهَبُ
So there is no blame if our poet says
No offense if our poet says to the sea:
So there is no fault if our poet says
To the sea, 'O sea, what I bestow is the most precious of pearls.'
“O sea, the finest pearls are not yours to keep!”
To the sea: "O Sea, the most precious pearls are what I bestow."
ياO شاعِرَpoet اَلدَيرِal-Deir كَمhow many هَلهَلتَyou made delicate قافِيَةًa rhyme
يا شاعِرَ اَلدَيرِ كَم هَلهَلتَ قافِيَةً
غَنّىsang الرُواةُthe reciters بِهاwith it وَاِختالَتِand strutted proudly الكُتُبُthe books
غَنّى الرُواةُ بِها وَاِختالَتِ الكُتُبُ
O poet of al-Deir, how many a rhyme you have delicately woven!
O poet of the monastery, how you have revived meter,
O Poet of the Convent, how many rhymes have you finely spun,
Reciters sang it, and books strutted with pride.
Singers chant it, books are enlivened with its spirit.
That narrators have sung, and books have carried with pride.
طَلاقَةُcheerful brightness الفَجرِthe dawn فيهاin it وَهوَas it is مُنبَثِقٌbreaking forth
طَلاقَةُ الفَجرِ فيها وَهوَ مُنبَثِقٌ
وَرِقَّةُand softness الماءِthe water فيهاin it وَهوَas it is مُنسَكِبُpouring forth
وَرِقَّةُ الماءِ فيها وَهوَ مُنسَكِبُ
In it is dawn's joyous brightness as it breaks,
The fluidity of dawn as it emerges,
In them lies the freedom of the dawn as it breaks,
And in it is water's softness as it pours forth.
The softness of water as it spills and surges,
And the softness of water as it pours forth.
مَرَّتpassed عَلىover هَضَباتِhills الدَيرِal-Deir هائِمَةًenraptured
مَرَّت عَلى هَضَباتِ الدَيرِ هائِمَةً
فَكادَso nearly يورِقُputs forth leaves فيهاin them الصَخرُthe rocks وَالحَطَبُand the firewood
فَكادَ يورِقُ فيها الصَخرُ وَالحَطَبُ
It passed over the hills of al-Deir, enraptured,
Have coursed over the monastery's plateaus,
They passed over the hills of the Convent, wandering in love,
So rocks and firewood there almost put forth leaves.
Nearly bringing to bloom its stone and timber.
Until the very rocks and firewood nearly sprouted leaves.
إِذاwhen تَساقىshared drink النُدامىthe drinking companions الراحَthe wine صافِيَةًclear
إِذا تَساقى النُدامى الراحَ صافِيَةً
كانَتwere قَوافيكَyour rhymes فيin الراحِthe wine الَّتيwhich شَرِبواthey drank
كانَت قَوافيكَ في الراحِ الَّتي شَرِبوا
When drinking companions pass around clear wine,
When boon companions imbibe wine pure and clear,
When drinking companions share the pure vintage,
Your rhymes are in the wine they drink.
Your rhymes are in the drink they sip and they cheer.
Your rhymes are infused within the wine they sip.
فَأَنتَso you فيon أَلسُنِtongues الأَشياخِthe elders إِنif نَطَقواthey speak
فَأَنتَ في أَلسُنِ الأَشياخِ إِن نَطَقوا
وَأَنتَand you فيin هِمَمِresolves الشُبّانِthe young men إِنif وَثَبواthey leap
وَأَنتَ في هِمَمِ الشُبّانِ إِن وَثَبوا
So you are on the tongues of elders when they speak,
You are on the tongues of the elders when they speak,
You are upon the tongues of the elders when they speak,
And you are in young men's resolve when they leap.
You are in the hearts of youth when they leap.
And in the aspirations of the youth when they leap to strive.
مَسعودُMasoud عيدُكَyour feast day وَالشَهرُand the month الجَميلُbeautiful مَعاًtogether
مَسعودُ عيدُكَ وَالشَهرُ الجَميلُ مَعاً
قَدindeed أَقبَلاboth have arrived وَأَناwhile I فيon الأَرضِthe earth أَضطَرِبُI wander restlessly
قَد أَقبَلا وَأَنا في الأَرضِ أَضطَرِبُ
Masoud, your feast day and the beautiful month together
Mas'ud, your feast day and this beautiful month arrive,
Massoud, your feast day and the beautiful month together
Have both arrived, while I wander restlessly over the earth.
As I remain far, restless, and deprived.
Have arrived, while I toss restlessly across the land.
يَحُزُّcuts into نَفسِيَmy soul أَنّيthat I اليَومَtoday مُبتَعِدٌfar away
يَحُزُّ نَفسِيَ أَنّي اليَومَ مُبتَعِدٌ
وَأَنتَand you مِنfrom حَولِكَaround you الأَنصارُthe supporters وَالصُحُبُand the companions
وَأَنتَ مِن حَولِكَ الأَنصارُ وَالصُحُبُ
It cuts into my soul that today I am far away,
It grieves me that today I am distanced,
It cuts deep into my soul that I am distant today,
While you have supporters and companions around you.
While your supporters and friends are around you.
While you are surrounded by supporters and friends.
البيدُthe deserts وَالناسُand the people ماwhat بَينيbetween me وَبَينَكُمُand between you all
البيدُ وَالناسُ ما بَيني وَبَينَكُمُ
لَيتَif only المَهامِهَthe trackless wastes تُطوىwere folded up ليfor me فَأَقتَرِبُso I might draw near
لَيتَ المَهامِهَ تُطوى لي فَأَقتَرِبُ
Deserts and people are what stand between me and you;
The expanse and people separate you and I -
Deserts and crowds stand between me and you;
If only the trackless wastes were folded up for me, so I could draw near!
Would that this vast space for me could be defied,
Would that the wastelands were folded beneath me, that I might draw near.
ماhow كانَwould be أَسعَدَنيmade me happy لَوif كُنتُI were بَينَكُمُamong you all
ما كانَ أَسعَدَني لَو كُنتُ بَينَكُمُ
كَيماso that يُؤَدّيfulfills لِسانيmy tongue بَعضَsome ماwhat يَجِبُis due
كَيما يُؤَدّي لِساني بَعضَ ما يَجِبُ
How happy I would be if I were among you,
That I could draw near and fulfill in part
How happy I would have been were I among you,
So that my tongue might fulfill some of what is due
What one should say and do on your behalf.
That my tongue might fulfill a fraction of its duty,
لِصاحِبٍto a friend أَناI تَيّاهٌproud بِصُحبَتِهِof his companionship
لِصاحِبٍ أَنا تَيّاهٌ بِصُحبَتِهِ
وَشاعِرٍand a poet طالَماlong تاهَتhave taken pride بِهِin him العَرَبُthe Arabs
وَشاعِرٍ طالَما تاهَت بِهِ العَرَبُ
To a friend in whose companionship I take pride,
For a companion I ache in his absence,
To a friend in whose companionship I glory,
And a poet in whom the Arabs have long taken pride.
A poet with whom the Arabs have always been enthralled.
And a poet of whom the Arabs have long been proud.
Sol 6.1