إِنَّindeed فيin الصَدرِthe breast مِنbecause of كُلَيبِKulayb شُجوناًsorrows
إِنَّ في الصَدرِ مِن كُلَيبِ شُجوناً
هاجِساتٍhaunting نَكَأنَthey reopened مِنهُwithin it الجِراحاthe wounds
هاجِساتٍ نَكَأنَ مِنهُ الجِراحا
Indeed, my breast holds sorrows for Kulayb,
In my heart there is grief like deep wounds
haunting sorrows that have reopened its wounds.
That ache and bleed with sad lament
أَنكَرَتنيshe did not recognize me حَليلَتيmy wife إِذwhen رَأَتنيshe saw me
أَنكَرَتني حَليلَتي إِذ رَأَتني
كاسِفَpale اللَونِthe complexion لاnot أُطيقُI can bear المُزاحاjesting
كاسِفَ اللَونِ لا أُطيقُ المُزاحا
My wife did not recognize me when she saw me
My love rejected me when she saw
pale of complexion, unable to bear jesting.
My pale complexion, unable to jest
وَلَقَدand indeed كُنتُI used to be إِذwhen أُرَجِّلُI comb رَأسيmy head
وَلَقَد كُنتُ إِذ أُرَجِّلُ رَأسي
ماnot أُباليI care about الإِفسادَruining وَالإِصلاحاand repairing
ما أُبالي الإِفسادَ وَالإِصلاحا
And indeed, once, when I combed my hair,
When I walked proudly, head held high
I cared nothing for ruin or repair.
Caring not for ruin or success
بِئسَwretched is مَنwhoever عاشَlived فيin الحَياةِlife شَقِيّاًmiserable
بِئسَ مَن عاشَ في الحَياةِ شَقِيّاً
كاسِفَpale اللَونِthe complexion هائِماًwandering distraught مُلتاحاparched
كاسِفَ اللَونِ هائِماً مُلتاحا
Wretched is whoever lives his life in misery,
Wretched is he who lives miserably
pale, wandering distraught and parched.
Pale and wandering, lost in distress
ياO خَليلَيَّmy two friends نادِناcall to us ليfor me كُلَيباًKulayb
يا خَليلَيَّ نادِنا لي كُلَيباً
وَاِعلَماand know, you two أَنَّهُthat he مُلاقٍone who meets كِفاحاface to face
وَاِعلَما أَنَّهُ مُلاقٍ كِفاحا
O my two friends, call Kulayb to us for me,
O my friends, call Kulaib for me
and know that he meets others face to face.
And tell him I'm locked in struggle's mesh
ياO خَليلَيَّmy two friends نادِناcall to us ليfor me كُلَيباًKulayb
يا خَليلَيَّ نادِنا لي كُلَيباً
ثُمَّthen قولاsay, you two لَهُto him نَعِمتَmay you fare well صَباحاin the morning
ثُمَّ قولا لَهُ نَعِمتَ صَباحا
O my two friends, call Kulayb to us for me,
O my friends, call Kulaib for me
then say to him, 'May your morning be happy!'
Then say to him the morn was blessed
ياO خَليلَيَّmy two friends نادِناcall to us ليfor me كُلَيباًKulayb
يا خَليلَيَّ نادِنا لي كُلَيباً
قَبلَbefore أَنthat تُبصِرَbehold العُيونَthe eyes الصَباحاthe morning
قَبلَ أَن تُبصِرَ العُيونَ الصَباحا
O my two friends, call Kulayb to us for me,
O my friends, call Kulaib for me
before eyes behold the morning.
Before all eyes behold the dawn's fresh dress
لَمdid not نَرَwe see الناسَthe people مِثلَناlike us يَومَthe day سِرناwe marched
لَم نَرَ الناسَ مِثلَنا يَومَ سِرنا
نَسلُبُwe seize المُلكَdominion غُدوَةًin the morning وَرَواحاand in the evening
نَسلُبُ المُلكَ غُدوَةً وَرَواحا
We saw no people like ourselves the day we marched,
None have we seen like us, the day we marched
seizing dominion, morning and evening.
To seize the kingdom at the break of day
وَضَرَبناand we struck بِمُرهَفاتٍwith keen-edged blades عِتاقٍnoble
وَضَرَبنا بِمُرهَفاتٍ عِتاقٍ
تَترُكُthey leave الهُدمَthe ragged garments فَوقَهُنَّabove them صُياحاshrieking
تَترُكُ الهُدمَ فَوقَهُنَّ صُياحا
And we struck with keen-edged, noble blades
With our deadly lances and noble steeds
that leave the ragged garments shrieking above them.
That leave their charging wake in disarray
تَرَكَleft الدارَthe home ضَيفُناour guest وَتَوَلّىand turned away
تَرَكَ الدارَ ضَيفُنا وَتَوَلّى
عَذَرَpardoned اللَهَGod ضَيفَناour guest يَومَthe day راحاhe departed
عَذَرَ اللَهَ ضَيفَنا يَومَ راحا
Our guest left the home and turned away;
Our guest has left and turned away
may God pardon our guest on the day he departed.
God pardon him the day he went his way
ذَهَبَwent الدَهرُtime بِالسَماحَةِwith generosity مِنّاfrom us
ذَهَبَ الدَهرُ بِالسَماحَةِ مِنّا
ياO أَذىaffliction الدَهرِtime كَيفَhow تَرضىyou accept الجِماحاunruliness
يا أَذى الدَهرِ كَيفَ تَرضى الجِماحا
Time has carried generosity away from us.
Gone are our days of grace and calm
O affliction of time, how can you accept unruliness?
O fate, how can you be so cruel and fey?
وَيحَalas for أُمّيmy mother وَوَيحَهاand alas for her لِقَتيلٍfor a slain man
وَيحَ أُمّي وَوَيحَها لِقَتيلٍ
مِنfrom بَنيthe sons of تَغلِبٍTaghlib وَوَيحاًand alas وَواحاand ah
مِن بَني تَغلِبٍ وَوَيحاً وَواحا
Alas for my mother, and alas for her over a slain man
Woe for my mother, woe for her son
of the sons of Taghlib—alas, and ah!
A Taghlibi slain, alas her awful dues
ياO قَتيلاًslain man نَماهُbrought him forth فَرعُa branch كَريمٌnoble
يا قَتيلاً نَماهُ فَرعُ كَريمٌ
فَقدُهُhis loss قَدalready أَشابَturned gray مِنّيof me المِساحاthe locks of hair
فَقدُهُ قَد أَشابَ مِنّي المِساحا
O slain man, sprung from a noble branch,
O noble scion, nurtured on glory's milk
his loss has turned my locks gray.
Your loss has darkened my life's avenues
كَيفَhow أَسلواI cease grieving عَنِfrom البُكاءِweeping وَقَوميand my people
كَيفَ أَسلوا عَنِ البُكاءِ وَقَومي
قَدalready تَفانَواthey annihilated one another فَكَيفَso how أَرجوI hope for الفَلاحاsuccess
قَد تَفانَوا فَكَيفَ أَرجو الفَلاحا
How can I leave off weeping, when my people
How can I be consoled when my clan is no more
have annihilated one another? How can I hope for success?
My hopes for joy and fortune fade from view
Sol 6.1