ماwhat لِلهُمومِwith the cares الطارِقاتِvisiting at night وَماليand what of me
ما لِلهُمومِ الطارِقاتِ وَمالي
أَسهَرنَنيthey kept me awake وَرَقَدنَand they slept عَنheedless of أَوجاليmy fears
أَسهَرنَني وَرَقَدنَ عَن أَوجالي
What have these night-visiting cares to do with me?
The sorrows that haunt me in the darkness, what business have they with me?
What have these nightly cares to do with me?
They kept me awake and slept heedless of my fears.
They have kept me awake and prevented me from resting.
They keep me wakeful while they sleep, heedless of my dread.
أَمسَينَthey became by evening مِلءَfilling جَوانِحيmy breast ماnot نابَنيbefell me
أَمسَينَ مِلءَ جَوانِحي ما نابَني
خَطبٌa calamity وَلاnor خَطَرَcrossed الغَرامُlove بِباليin my mind
خَطبٌ وَلا خَطَرَ الغَرامُ بِبالي
By evening they filled my breast, though no
My heart is full of cares that have not crossed my mind before.
They fill my ribs, though no fresh calamity has struck,
Calamity had befallen me, nor had love crossed my mind.
I am in love though age has sprinkled my temples with white.
Nor has the thought of passion crossed my mind.
أَهوىam I to love وَقَدand already عَبَثَtoyed المَشيبُgray hair بِمِفرَقيwith my parting
أَهوى وَقَد عَبَثَ المَشيبُ بِمِفرَقي
لَيسَis not الغِوايَةُwayward passion لِلكَبيرِfor the old man الباليworn-out
لَيسَ الغِوايَةُ لِلكَبيرِ البالي
Am I to love, when gray hair has toyed with my parting?
Indulgence does not become the aged and world-weary.
Shall I love, when gray hair has toyed with my crown?
Wayward passion is not for a worn-out old man.
There is no malady for which oblivion is the cure,
Such folly suits not one worn out by age.
ماnot ثَمَّthere داءٌan illness يُستَطارُis driven away لَهُbecause of it الكَرىsleep
ما ثَمَّ داءٌ يُستَطارُ لَهُ الكَرى
ماnot ثَمَّthere غَيرُanything but كَآبَةٍgloom وَمَلالِand tedium
ما ثَمَّ غَيرُ كَآبَةٍ وَمَلالِ
There is no illness here to put sleep to flight;
Only sadness and ennui remain.
There is no sickness here to banish sleep;
There is nothing but gloom and tedium.
I gaze at the stars in the dark as though they were
There is nothing here but melancholy and weariness.
أَرعىI watch الثَواقِبَthe piercing stars فيin الظَلامِthe darkness كَأَنَّهاas though they were
أَرعى الثَواقِبَ في الظَلامِ كَأَنَّها
زَهرُflowers الحَدائِقِof gardens أَوor نَثيرُa scattering لَآليof pearls
زَهرُ الحَدائِقِ أَو نَثيرُ لَآلي
I watch the piercing stars in the darkness, as though they were
The flowers of gardens or the tinkling of ornaments.
I watch the piercing stars in the darkness, as if they were
Garden flowers, or a scattering of pearls.
As though the thorns of the cactus were in my bed,
Garden blooms or scattered pearls.
وَكَأَنَّماand as though شَوكُthorns القَتادِof the qatad shrub بِمَضجَعيin my bed
وَكَأَنَّما شَوكُ القَتادِ بِمَضجَعي
وَكَأَنَّand as though حَشوَthe stuffing وِسادَتيof my pillow بَلباليmy turmoil
وَكَأَنَّ حَشوَ وِسادَتي بَلبالي
And as though qatad thorns lay in my bed,
And the stuffing of my pillows were hyacinths.
It is as if thorns of tragacanth fill my bed,
And the stuffing of my pillow were my turmoil.
When my disquieting thoughts close in upon me
And as if my pillow is stuffed with my own unease.
حَتّىuntil إِذاwhen عَكَفَتclung persistently عَلَيَّto me وَساوِسيmy obsessive fears
حَتّى إِذا عَكَفَت عَلَيَّ وَساوِسي
وَنَباand grew unwelcoming الفِراشُthe bed نَزَعتُI felt drawn لِلتَجوالِto roaming
وَنَبا الفِراشُ نَزَعتُ لِلتَجوالِ
Until, when my obsessive fears clung to me
And the bed becomes uncomfortable, I get up and go out walking,
Until, when my dark whispers crowded round me,
And my bed offered no rest, I felt drawn to wander.
I come out like the dead emerging from their graves
And the bed grew harsh, I longed to roam.
فَخَرجتُso I went out كَالمَشورِlike one resurrected (text unclear) بَعدَafter مَماتِهِhis death
فَخَرجتُ كَالمَشورِ بَعدَ مَماتِهِ
وَرَكِبتُand I rode مَتنَthe back اللَيلِof night غَيرُwithout مُبالِcaring
وَرَكِبتُ مَتنَ اللَيلِ غَيرُ مُبالِ
So I went out like one resurrected after death,
And mount the back of the night uncaring,
So I went forth like a spirit risen from the dead,
And rode the back of night without a care.
I go along the paths with their shadows, released, it seems
Riding the back of the night, indifferent to all.
وَذَهَبتُand I went on أَختَرِقُcutting through المَسالِكَthe pathways مُدلِجاًtraveling by night
وَذَهَبتُ أَختَرِقُ المَسالِكَ مُدلِجاً
وَكَأَنَّماand as though أُطلِقتُI had been freed مِنfrom أَغلالِshackles
وَكَأَنَّما أُطلِقتُ مِن أَغلالِ
I went on, cutting through the pathways by night,
From my shackles, speeding though I know not whither
I went piercing the pathways in the deep dark,
And as though I had been freed from shackles.
In pursuit of some hope among hopes.
As though I had been unleashed from iron chains.
أَسعىI wander وَماand there is no مِنany غايَةٍgoal أَسعىI pursue لَهاtoward it
أَسعى وَما مِن غايَةٍ أَسعى لَها
سَعيِstriving إِلىtoward أَمَلٍa hope مِنَamong الآمالِhopes
سَعيِ إِلى أَمَلٍ مِنَ الآمالِ
I wander, with no goal that I pursue
I am stopped in my tracks by the clamour of a tavern
I wander with no destination in sight,
As one pursues a hope among hopes.
That holds its habitués enthralled.
Unlike one who strives toward a cherished hope.
فَاِستَوقَفَتنيthen stopped me ضَجَّةٌa clamor فيin حانَةٍa tavern
فَاِستَوقَفَتني ضَجَّةٌ في حانَةٍ
حَبَسَتit reserved مَقاعِدَهاits seats عَلىfor الجُهّالِthe ignorant
حَبَسَت مَقاعِدَها عَلى الجُهّالِ
Then a clamor in a tavern stopped me—
They crowd around the dancing girl drinking her in
Then I was halted by a clamor from a tavern,
One that reserved its seats for the ignorant.
Like birds around a scarecrow with tinkling anklets.
Whose benches were reserved for the ignorant.
حامواthey hovered عَلىover الصَهباءِthe tawny wine يَرتَشِفونَهاsipping it
حاموا عَلى الصَهباءِ يَرتَشِفونَها
كَالطَيرِlike birds حَولَaround مُصَفِّقٍa rippling stream سَلسالِsweet-flowing
كَالطَيرِ حَولَ مُصَفِّقٍ سَلسالِ
They hovered over tawny wine, sipping it,
In the heedlessness of the drinkers in the deepening gloom -
They hovered over the wine, sipping it,
Like birds around a rippling, sweet-flowing stream.
Indeed, the heedlessness of the drinkers is happiness -
Like birds around a clear, flowing spring.
فيduring غَفلَةِthe heedlessness العُذّالِof the censurers فيin غَسَقِthe deep gloom الدُجىof night
في غَفلَةِ العُذّالِ في غَسَقِ الدُجى
إِنَّindeed السَعادَةَhappiness غَفلَةُthe heedlessness العُذّالِof the censurers
إِنَّ السَعادَةَ غَفلَةُ العُذّالِ
While their censurers were unaware, in the deep gloom of night;
Their reason and bloom of youth are plundered
Hidden from critics in the twilight gloom—
Happiness, indeed, is the censurers' heedlessness.
By the cunning and deceitful tavern keeper.
For happiness is but the absence of those who blame.
نَهبَplunder of الكُؤوسِthe cups عُقولُهُمtheir minds وَنُضارُهُمand their gold
نَهبَ الكُؤوسِ عُقولُهُم وَنُضارُهُم
نَهبَplunder of المُديرِthe cupbearer الخادِعِdeceitful الخَتّالِtreacherous
نَهبَ المُديرِ الخادِعِ الخَتّالِ
Their minds were the cups' plunder, and their gold
He sends them to their deaths under the guise of generosity;
Their minds are plundered by the cups, and their gold
The plunder of the deceitful, treacherous cupbearer.
Truly evil is the wine whose headache in the morning
Is the plunder of the cunning, treacherous host.
أَمسىhe came to يَسوقُdeliver إِلَيهِمto them آجالَهُمtheir appointed ends
أَمسى يَسوقُ إِلَيهِم آجالَهُم
وَحُتوفَهُمand their deaths فيin صورَةِthe guise الجِريالِof crimson wine
وَحُتوفَهُم في صورَةِ الجِريالِ
He brought them their appointed ends
Becomes the fetter of cares and the pledge of regrets.
He drives their dooms toward them,
And their deaths in the guise of crimson wine.
O robber of souls, show some pity,
Serving them death in the guise of red wine.
شَرَّthe worst الشَرابِof drinks الخَمرُwine يُصبِحُwakes صَبُّهاits ardent lover
شَرَّ الشَرابِ الخَمرُ يُصبِحُ صَبُّها
قَيدَbound by الضَنىwasting sickness وَيَبيتُand spends the night رَهنَin the grip of خِبالِmadness
قَيدَ الضَنى وَيَبيتُ رَهنَ خِبالِ
Wine is the worst of drinks; its lover wakes
It should suffice you that you have robbed them of their money.
The worst of drinks is wine; its lover wakes
Bound by sickness, and spends the night in madness's grip.
Do not debase those souls, though they are fickle;
Shackled by infirmity and sleeps a hostage to ruin.
ياO سالِبَstealer of الأَرواحِsouls بَعضَa little تَرَفُّقٍgentleness
يا سالِبَ الأَرواحِ بَعضَ تَرَفُّقٍ
يَكفيكَit suffices you أَنَّكَthat you are سالِبَa stealer of الأَموالِwealth
يَكفيكَ أَنَّكَ سالِبَ الأَموالِ
O stealer of souls, show a little gentleness;
Souls, however small, are a divine trust.
O thief of souls, have some mercy!
It is enough that you steal their wealth.
And then I see a drunkard wandering in a daze -
Is it not enough that you steal their wealth?
لاdo not تَفَعَنَّever drive (text unclear) تِلكَthose النُفوسِsouls إِلىto الرَدىdestruction
لا تَفَعَنَّ تِلكَ النُفوسِ إِلى الرَدى
إِنَّindeed النُفوسَsouls وَإِنand even if صَغُرنَthey are lowly غَواليprecious
إِنَّ النُفوسَ وَإِن صَغُرنَ غَوالي
Do not drive those souls to destruction;
Crazed, stumbling, wavering in his steps as though
Do not drive these souls to destruction,
Souls, however lowly, are precious.
He were walking on hot embers,
For souls are precious, however humble they may be.
وَإِذاand suddenly بِمَخمورٍthere was a drunken man يَتيهِswaggering مُعَربِداًbrawling
وَإِذا بِمَخمورٍ يَتيهِ مُعَربِداً
خَبَلٌmadness بِهِin him ماnot ذاكَthat تيهُswagger دَلالِof coquetry
خَبَلٌ بِهِ ما ذاكَ تيهُ دَلالِ
And suddenly, a drunken man was swaggering and brawling;
Reeling to and fro like a bough between the north wind and the zephyr,
Suddenly, a drunkard stumbled by, raving—
Madness possessed him; that was no coquettish swagger.
Wine has tied his tongue though he sees clearly and moves
Possessed by madness, not the swagger of pride.
حَيرانُbewildered مُضطَرِبُunsteady اخُطىthe steps (text unclear) فَكَأَنَّماso as though
حَيرانُ مُضطَرِبُ اخُطى فَكَأَنَّما
قَدalready راحَhe went يَمشيwalking فَوقَover جَمرٍembers صالِblazing
قَد راحَ يَمشي فَوقَ جَمرٍ صالِ
Bewildered, his steps unsteady, as though
His limbs with ease. He falls like a gallant steed to the ground,
Bewildered, his steps unsteady, as if
He were walking over blazing embers.
Crushed by burdens too heavy to bear.
He were walking upon burning coals.
مُتَخَمِّطٌswaggering فيin سَيرِهِhis gait مُتَأَوِّدٌswaying
مُتَخَمِّطٌ في سَيرِهِ مُتَأَوِّدٌ
كَالغُصنِlike a bough بَينَbetween صَباًan east wind وَبَينَand between شَمالِa north wind
كَالغُصنِ بَينَ صَباً وَبَينَ شَمالِ
Swaggering in his gait, swaying,
And the policeman approaches him with swaggering stride
He lurched in his gait, swaying
Like a bough between an east wind and a north wind.
Glancing to either side of him like a languishing lover
Like a branch between the east wind and the north.
عَقَدَtied الشَرابُthe drink لِسانَهُhis tongue وَلَقَدthough indeed يَرىhe deems
عَقَدَ الشَرابُ لِسانَهُ وَلَقَد يَرى
طَلقاًunfettered وَفَكَّand loosened مَجامِعَthe joints الأَوصالِof the limbs
طَلقاً وَفَكَّ مَجامِعَ الأَوصالِ
Drink had tied his tongue—though he thought it
Watching out for the forbidding chaperone.
Drink had knotted his tongue, once so eloquent,
Unfettered—and loosened the joints of his limbs.
And I saw his club sticking out of his pocket,
And unraveled the very joints of his limbs.
فَكَباthen he stumbled كَماjust as يَكبوstumbles الجَوادُa steed عَلىupon الثَرىthe earth
فَكَبا كَما يَكبو الجَوادُ عَلى الثَرى
شُدَّتwere strapped عَلَيهِupon it فَوادِحُthe crushing weight الأَثقالِof burdens
شُدَّت عَلَيهِ فَوادِحُ الأَثقالِ
Then he stumbled as a steed stumbles upon the earth,
So I understood the reason for the fraud's restlessness.
He collapsed face-down like a steed upon the earth,
With crushing burdens strapped upon it.
Do not wonder at what I tell you of him -
Weighed down by crushing burdens.
وَتَقَدَّمَand advanced الشُرطِيُّthe policeman يَمشيwalking نَحوَهُtoward him
وَتَقَدَّمَ الشُرطِيُّ يَمشي نَحوَهُ
مَشيَwith the gait الفَخورِof one proud بِنَفسِهِof himself المُختالِstrutting
مَشيَ الفَخورِ بِنَفسِهِ المُختالِ
And the policeman advanced toward him,
Imagine how much villainy that garment conceals!
Then a policeman advanced toward him,
With the strutting gait of a man proud of himself.
Then he bent over smiling, and I saw a youth
With the strut of the vainglorious and proud.
مُتَلَفِّتاًglancing about عَنtoward جانِبَيهِhis two sides كَعاشِقٍlike a lover
مُتَلَفِّتاً عَن جانِبَيهِ كَعاشِقٍ
مُتَلَفِّتٍglancing about حَذَرَfor fear of الرَقيبِthe watcher القاليhostile
مُتَلَفِّتٍ حَذَرَ الرَقيبِ القالي
Glancing to either side, like a lover
In tattered clothes lying prostrate.
Glancing side to side like a lover,
Looking around in fear of a hostile watcher.
He went up to him and nudged him but found only a lifeless body.
Who fears the gaze of a hateful spy.
وَرَأَيتُهُand I saw him وَبَنانُهُand his fingers فيin جَيبِهِhis pocket
وَرَأَيتُهُ وَبَنانُهُ في جَيبِهِ
فَعَلِمتُso I learned سِرَّthe secret تَلَفُّتِof the glances المُحتالِof the swindler
فَعَلِمتُ سِرَّ تَلَفُّتِ المُحتالِ
I saw him, his fingers in the drunkard's pocket,
He bent down over him, embracing him while copious tears
I saw his fingers slip into the man's pocket,
And learned the secret of the swindler's furtive glances.
Flowed from him like a streaming cloud.
And knew then the secret of his furtive glances.
لاdo not تَعجَبواmarvel مِمّاat what أُحَدِّثُكُمI tell you بِهِof it
لا تَعجَبوا مِمّا أُحَدِّثُكُم بِهِ
كَمhow many تَحتَbeneath ذاكَthat الثَوبِgarb مِنof نَشّالِa pickpocket
كَم تَحتَ ذاكَ الثَوبِ مِن نَشّالِ
Do not marvel at what I tell you:
He brought the news to his family and they broke into laments
Do not marvel at the tale I tell;
How many pickpockets hide beneath that garb!
While his wife loudly bewailed her misfortune.
How many pickpockets hide beneath that uniform!
ثُمَّthen اِنثَنىhe turned away مُتَبَسِّماًsmiling وَإِذاand suddenly فَتىًa youth
ثُمَّ اِنثَنى مُتَبَسِّماً وَإِذا فَتىً
غَضَّtender الإِهابَof skin مُمَزِّقَtearing السِربالِthe tunic
غَضَّ الإِهابَ مُمَزِّقَ السِربالِ
Then he turned away smiling; suddenly a youth,
They had wept until their tears were spent, then humiliated him
He turned away smiling. Then appeared a youth,
Tender-skinned, tearing his tunic,
Though tears may not always be shameful.
Tender of skin, with clothes in tatters.
وافىarrived فَحَرَّكَهُthen shook him فَأَلفىand found جُثَّةًa body
وافى فَحَرَّكَهُ فَأَلفى جُثَّةً
هَمَدَتlay lifeless فَأَجفَلَso he recoiled أَيُّماutter إِجفالِfright
هَمَدَت فَأَجفَلَ أَيُّما إِجفالِ
Came, shook him, and found a body.
And I saw his little children bewildered
He approached and shook him, finding only a corpse,
It lay lifeless; he recoiled in utter fright.
By their plight, yearning for their father.
Silent and cold, and he recoiled in sheer terror.
وَحَنىand bent عَلَيهِover him يَضُمُّهُembracing him وَدُموعُهُwhile his tears
وَحَنى عَلَيهِ يَضُمُّهُ وَدُموعُهُ
تَنهَلُّpoured مِثلَlike العارِضِa rain cloud الهَطّالِpouring heavily
تَنهَلُّ مِثلَ العارِضِ الهَطّالِ
He bent over him, embracing him, while his tears
They do not understand grief, only sob vaguely -
He bent over to embrace him, while his tears
Poured like a cloud shedding heavy rain.
What is grief to little ones but sobbing?
Poured down like rain from a heavy cloud.
وَأَتىand reached ذَويهِhis family نَعيُهُnews of his death فَتَأَلَّبواso they gathered
وَأَتى ذَويهِ نَعيُهُ فَتَأَلَّبوا
وَالغيدُand the fair women تُعيلُwailed أَيُّماutter إِعوالِwailing
وَالغيدُ تُعيلُ أَيُّما إِعوالِ
News of his death reached his family, and they gathered,
I did not know, until they enshrouded him,
The news of his death reached his kin; they gathered,
And the fair women wailed most bitterly.
That the truly wretched is he who leaves orphans.
And the young women raised a mighty wail.
أَرخَصنَthey deemed cheap ماءَthe water الجَفنِof the eyelid ثُمَّthen أَذَلنَهُthey spent it freely
أَرخَصنَ ماءَ الجَفنِ ثُمَّ أَذَلنَهُ
وَلَقَدthough indeed يَكونُmay be الدَمعُtears غَيرَnot مُذالِfreely squandered
وَلَقَد يَكونُ الدَمعُ غَيرَ مُذالِ
They held their eyelids' water cheap, then spent it freely,
I grieved for him, shroudless, his hand did not wield the sword
They spent the water of their eyes freely, humbling it,
Though tears are not always so freely shed.
Or march out to battle.
Though tears are usually held dear and not debased.
وَلَقَدand indeed شَهِدتُI saw صِغارَهُhis little ones فيin حَيرَةٍbewilderment
وَلَقَد شَهِدتُ صِغارَهُ في حَيرَةٍ
مِنabout أَمرِهِمtheir plight لَهَفيmy anguish عَلىfor الأَشبالِthe cubs
مِن أَمرِهِم لَهَفي عَلى الأَشبالِ
And I saw his little ones bewildered
He perished, victim of his ignorance - how many wretched souls
I saw his little ones lost in confusion—
By their plight—how I grieve for the cubs!
Have died as martyrs of ignorance and neglect!
Oh, how my heart aches for those young cubs!
لاnot يَفقَهونَthey understand الحُزنَsorrow غَيرَexcept تَأَوُّهٍmoaning
لا يَفقَهونَ الحُزنَ غَيرَ تَأَوُّهٍ
ماnot الحُزنُsorrow غَيرُanything but تَأُوُّهِthe moaning الأَطفالِof children
ما الحُزنُ غَيرُ تَأُوُّهِ الأَطفالِ
They understood sorrow only as moaning;
I returned, my heart rent with sorrow, and poured out my lament to you
They know not grief save as a sigh;
Sorrow is nothing but the moaning of children.
And mourned the condition of the workers:
Yet what is true grief if not the sighing of a child?
ماnot كُنتُI was أَعلَمُI knew قَبلَماbefore حَفّواthey gathered بِهِaround him
ما كُنتُ أَعلَمُ قَبلَما حَفّوا بِهِ
أَنَّthat الشَقِيَّthe unfortunate man الجَدَّin fortune رَبُّa provider for عِيالِdependents
أَنَّ الشَقِيَّ الجَدَّ رَبُّ عِيالِ
I had not known, before they gathered round him,
Shelterless, in the claws of hardship,
I did not know, until they gathered round him,
That this luckless man was the father of a family.
While over them hover the claws of beasts of prey.
That one so wretched was master of a household.
أَسَفيmy sorrow عَلَيهِfor him مُضَرَّجاًbloodstained لَمnever تَمتَشِقdrew
أَسَفي عَلَيهِ مُضَرَّجاً لَم تَمتَشِق
يَدُهُhis hand الحُسامَthe sword وَلَمand had not يَسِرgone لِقِتالِto battle
يَدُهُ الحُسامَ وَلَم يَسِر لِقِتالِ
How I mourn him, bloodstained, though he had never drawn
Ignorance and poverty - two fatal dangers! Nothing is more deadly
I grieve for him, fallen and bloodstained, though
A sword with his hand, nor marched to battle.
Than the coming together of ignorance and want.
His hand drew no sword, nor did he march to war.
أَودىhe perished ضَحِيَّةَa victim جَهلِهِof his ignorance كَمhow many بائِسٍa wretch
أَودى ضَحِيَّةَ جَهلِهِ كَم بائِسٍ
أَودىhas perished شَهيدَa martyr to الجَهلِignorance وَالإِهمالِand neglect
أَودى شَهيدَ الجَهلِ وَالإِهمالِ
He perished, a victim of his ignorance; how many a wretch
Come to the aid of your brothers, for their lives
He perished, a victim of his own ignorance; how many wretches
Has perished, a martyr to ignorance and neglect!
Are beset by fearsome perils and tribulations!
Die as martyrs to neglect and folly!
فَرَجِعتُso I returned مَصدوعَbroken الفُؤادِin heart أَبُثُّكُمI share with you
فَرَجِعتُ مَصدوعَ الفُؤادِ أَبُثُّكُم
شَجويmy grief وَأَندُبُand I lament حالَةَthe condition العُمّالِof the workers
شَجوي وَأَندُبُ حالَةَ العُمّالِ
I returned with a broken heart to share with you
How fitting it would be for the ignorant folk to learn -
I returned with a broken heart to share my sorrow,
My grief, and lament the condition of the workers.
Knowledge is the source of awe and majesty.
Lamenting the plight of the working poor.
باتواthey have come to be مِنَbecause of الأَرزاءِmisfortunes بَينَbetween مَخالِبٍclaws
باتوا مِنَ الأَرزاءِ بَينَ مَخالِبٍ
مِنfrom دونِهِنَّbeneath them مَخالِبُthe claws الرِئبالِof the lion
مِن دونِهِنَّ مَخالِبُ الرِئبالِ
Misfortunes have left them caught between claws;
Struggle to spread knowledge among them, for when
They sleep amidst calamities, caught in claws
A lion's claws are less fearsome than these.
The clouds pour down, the valleys are clearly revealed.
Sharper than the talons of a lion.
خَطرانِtwo dangers مِنfrom جَهلٍignorance وَفَقرٍand poverty ماnot الرَدىruin
خَطرانِ مِن جَهلٍ وَفَقرٍ ما الرَدى
غَيرُanything but اِجتِماعِthe union الجَهلِof ignorance وَالإِقلالِand want
غَيرُ اِجتِماعِ الجَهلِ وَالإِقلالِ
Two dangers, ignorance and poverty; ruin is nothing
When an ignorant man learns and finds guidance,
Two perils: ignorance and want. For what is ruin,
But ignorance and want combined.
He brings enlightenment to his people and family.
If not the union of ignorance and need?
فَخُذواso take hold بِناصِرِهِمto their aid فَإِنَّfor indeed حَياتَهُمtheir lives
فَخُذوا بِناصِرِهِم فَإِنَّ حَياتَهُم
فيin مَأزَقٍa strait حَرِجٍperilous مِنَamid الأَهوالِterrors
في مَأزَقٍ حَرِجٍ مِنَ الأَهوالِ
So come to their aid, for their lives
O people! If you do not help your poor,
So rise to their aid, for their lives
Are in a perilous strait amid horrors.
Why then such hoarding of wealth?
Are trapped in a desperate strait of terrors.
ماhow أَجَدَرَdeserving الجُهَلاءِthe ignorant أَنto يَتَعَلَّمواlearn
ما أَجَدَرَ الجُهَلاءِ أَن يَتَعَلَّموا
فَالعِلمُfor knowledge مَصدَرُa source هَيبَةًof respect وَجَلالِand grandeur
فَالعِلمُ مَصدَرُ هَيبَةً وَجَلالِ
How fitting that the ignorant should learn!
Why not rest content with praise as treasure enough?
How fitting it is for the ignorant to learn,
For knowledge is a source of respect and grandeur.
Surely praise is the treasure of the virtuous.
For knowledge is the source of dignity and awe.
فَاِسعواso strive لِنَشرِto spread العِلمِknowledge فيهِمamong them إِنَّماonly
فَاِسعوا لِنَشرِ العِلمِ فيهِم إِنَّما
فَضلُthe bounty الغَمامِof clouds يُبينُbecomes clear فيin الأَمحالِtimes of drought
فَضلُ الغَمامِ يُبينُ في الأَمحالِ
So strive to spread knowledge among them: only
Are you not descended from those whose outstanding merit
Strive to spread learning among them;
In drought does the bounty of clouds become clear.
Shines like stars in the greatest examples?
The cloud's bounty is most proven in the drought.
إِنَّindeed الجَهولَthe ignorant man إِذاwhen تَعَلَّمlearns وَاِهتَدىand finds guidance
إِنَّ الجَهولَ إِذا تَعَلَّم وَاِهتَدى
بَثَّhe spreads الهُدىguidance فيamong صَحبِهِhis companions وَالآلِand kin
بَثَّ الهُدى في صَحبِهِ وَالآلِ
Indeed, when the ignorant man learns and finds guidance,
Be generous! Only the praiseworthy survive,
For when the ignorant man learns and finds the way,
He spreads that guidance among his companions and kin.
Wealth is a fleeting phantom.
He spreads light among his companions and kin.
ياO قَومُmy people إِنif لَمdo not تُسعِفواaid فُقَراءَكُمyour poor
يا قَومُ إِن لَم تُسعِفوا فُقَراءَكُم
فَلِمَthen why اِدِّخارُكُمyour hoarding إِذَنthen لِلمالِof wealth
فَلِمَ اِدِّخارُكُم إِذَن لِلمالِ
My people, if you do not aid your poor,
Alas! However numerous, possessions do not last,
O people, if you do not succor your poor,
Then why do you hoard your wealth?
How could they endure, when their Lord is destruction?
For what purpose do you hoard your wealth?
هَلّاwhy not رَضَيتُمbe content بِالمَحامِدِwith praiseworthy deeds قَينَةًas a possession (apparently intended)
هَلّا رَضَيتُم بِالمَحامِدِ قَينَةً
إِنَّindeed المَحامِدَpraiseworthy deeds قَنيَةُthe possession المِفضالِof the generous man
إِنَّ المَحامِدَ قَنيَةُ المِفضالِ
Why not be content with praiseworthy deeds as your treasure?
Will you not accept praise as your treasure?
Indeed, praiseworthy deeds are the generous man's treasure.
For praise is the true wealth of the noble soul.
أَوor لَستُمare you not أَبناءَsons مَنof those who سارَتspread بِهِمabout them
أَو لَستُم أَبناءَ مَن سارَت بِهِم
فيin المَكرُماتِnoble deeds رَوائِعُthe finest الأَمثالِof proverbs
في المَكرُماتِ رَوائِعُ الأَمثالِ
Or are you not the sons of those about whom
Are you not the sons of those whose deeds
The finest proverbs of noble deeds have spread?
Became the stuff of legends and proverbs?
جوداًbe generous فَغَيرُfor anything other than الحَمدِpraise غَيرُis not مُخَلَّدٍimmortal
جوداً فَغَيرُ الحَمدِ غَيرُ مُخَلَّدٍ
ماwhat is المالُwealth إِنَّindeed المالَwealth طَيفُa phantom خَيالِof fancy
ما المالُ إِنَّ المالَ طَيفُ خَيالِ
Be generous: nothing but praise lives on.
Be generous! For nothing but praise is immortal.
What is wealth? Wealth is a phantom of fancy.
What is wealth? Wealth is but a fleeting phantom.
هَيهاتِfar from it ماnot يَبقىit lasts وَلَوeven if عَدَدَas numerous as الحَصىpebbles
هَيهاتِ ما يَبقى وَلَو عَدَدَ الحَصى
أَنّىhow يَدومُcan it endure وَرَبُهُwhile its owner لِزَوالِis destined to perish
أَنّى يَدومُ وَرَبُهُ لِزَوالِ
Far from it! It cannot last, though as countless as pebbles.
Far from it! It shall not endure, though it be as the pebbles;
How can it endure, when its owner must pass away?
How can it last, when its master is bound for dust?
Partial English translation: 90 of 98 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1