ماwhat لِسَلمىwith Salma الَّتيwho اِستَبَدَّتhas grown tyrannical وَماand what ليwith me
ما لِسَلمى الَّتي اِستَبَدَّت وَما لي
أَناI فيin الحُبِّlove مَيَّتُdead الآمالِhopes
أَنا في الحُبِّ مَيَّتُ الآمالِ
What ails Salma, who has grown tyrannical, and what ails me?
In love, I am a man whose hopes are dead.
كُنتُI was أَمشيwalking مَعَwith الهيامِpassionate love وَلكِنand yet
كُنتُ أَمشي مَعَ الهيامِ وَلكِن
كُنتُI was أَمشيwalking عَلىon طَريقِthe path of الضلالِdelusion
كُنتُ أَمشي عَلى طَريقِ الضلالِ
I was walking with passion, and yet
I was walking the path of delusion.
ذلِكَthat الحُبُّlove كانَwas بِالأَمسِyesterday بَدراًa full moon
ذلِكَ الحُبُّ كانَ بِالأَمسِ بَدراً
فَغَداand it became اليَومَtoday ناقِصاًdiminished كَالهلالِlike the crescent moon
فَغَدا اليَومَ ناقِصاً كَالهلالِ
That love was a full moon yesterday,
and today it is diminished, like a crescent moon.
ذلِكَthat الحُبُّlove كانَwas رَسماًan image شَريفاًnoble
ذلِكَ الحُبُّ كانَ رَسماً شَريفاً
فَغَداand it became اليَومَtoday سِلعَةَthe merchandise of الدَلّالِthe auctioneer
فَغَدا اليَومَ سِلعَةَ الدَلّالِ
That love was a noble image,
and today it has become an auctioneer's wares.
ياoh لسلمىfor Salma كَيفَhow اِستَبَدَّتshe tyrannized وَأَذرَتand showed contempt
يا لسلمى كَيفَ اِستَبَدَّت وَأَذرَت
بِحَياتيfor my life وَمَدمَعيand my tears الهَطّالِcopiously flowing
بِحَياتي وَمَدمَعي الهَطّالِ
Ah, Salma! How she has tyrannized and shown contempt
for my life and my streaming tears.
ماnot كَفاهاwas enough for her أَنّيthat I am هَزيلٌemaciated وَلكِنand yet
ما كَفاها أَنّي هَزيلٌ وَلكِن
سَمَّرتshe studded with nails نَعلَهاher sandal وَداسَتand trampled هزاليmy emaciation
سَمَّرت نَعلَها وَداسَت هزالي
It was not enough for her that I was wasted; instead,
she studded her sandal with nails and trampled my wasted frame.
بِنتَdaughter of حَوّاءَEve إِنَّindeed قَلبَكِyour heart صَخرٌrock
بِنتَ حَوّاءَ إِنَّ قَلبَكِ صَخرٌ
كَيفَhow عَدُّوكِthey counted you منamong ذَواتِwomen possessing الدَلالِcoy charm
كَيفَ عَدُّوكِ من ذَواتِ الدَلالِ
Daughter of Eve, your heart is rock.
How could they count you among women of coy charm?
لَوif حباكِbestowed on you السُلطانَpower رَبُّكِyour Lord يَوماًone day
لَو حباكِ السُلطانَ رَبُّكِ يَوماً
لَاِستَحَلَّيتِyou would have relished مصرعاًa slaughter لِلرِّجالِof men
لَاِستَحَلَّيتِ مصرعاً لِلرِّجالِ
Had your Lord one day bestowed power on you,
you would have relished the slaughter of men.
ياO صَديقيmy friend خُذtake hold بالربابَof the rebab وَأَنشِدand sing
يا صَديقي خُذ بالربابَ وَأَنشِد
كُلُّevery حَيٍّliving being مَصيرُهُits destiny لِلزَّوالِto pass away
كُلُّ حَيٍّ مَصيرُهُ لِلزَّوالِ
O my friend, take up the rebab and sing:
Every living being is destined to pass away.
فَأَناfor I راحِلٌdeparting عَنfrom الكَونِthe world عَلّيperhaps I
فَأَنا راحِلٌ عَن الكَونِ عَلّي
أَجِدI find المكرdeceit نائِياًfar away فيin اِرتِحاليmy journey
أَجِد المكر نائِياً في اِرتِحالي
For I am leaving this world; perhaps I shall
find deceit far away on my journey.
لاnot أَرىI see فيin المِرآةِthe mirror وَجهِيَmy face حَتّىthan
لا أَرى في المِرآةِ وَجهِيَ حَتّى
يَعتَرينيovertakes me خَوفٌfear لِفَرطِbecause of the severity of اِعتِلاليmy illness
يَعتَريني خَوفٌ لِفَرطِ اِعتِلالي
No sooner do I see my face in the mirror than
fear overtakes me, so grievous is my illness.
آهah وَآسوءَand alas, how wretched حاليَmy state اليَومَtoday إِنّيindeed I
آه وَآسوءَ حاليَ اليَومَ إِنّي
أَطلُبُI seek المَوتَdeath آهah وَآسوءَand alas, how wretched حاليmy state
أَطلُبُ المَوتَ آه وَآسوءَ حالي
Ah, how wretched my plight today! Indeed, I
seek death—ah, how wretched my plight!
ياO صَديقيmy friend ماضيّmy past كانَwas جَميلاًbeautiful
يا صَديقي ماضيّ كانَ جَميلاً
فَاِستَبَدَّand then tyrannized الهَوىpassion بِذاكَover that الجَمالِbeauty
فَاِستَبَدَّ الهَوى بِذاكَ الجَمالِ
O my friend, my past was beautiful,
then passion tyrannized over that beauty.
أَطربenrapture الحُبَّlove كَيso that يكفَّنit may shroud ماضيpast
أَطرب الحُبَّ كَي يكفَّن ماضي
هِits بِثَوبٍin a garment منof جِنسِهِits own kind غيرnot بالِworn out
هِ بِثَوبٍ من جِنسِهِ غير بالِ
Enrapture Love, that it may shroud its past
in an unworn garment of its own kind.
Sol 6.1