عَرَفتُI recognized بِأَعلىat the upper reaches of رائِسِRa'is الفَأوَal-Fa'w بَعدَماafter
عَرَفتُ بِأَعلى رائِسِ الفَأوَ بَعدَما
مَضَتpassed سَنَةٌa year أَيّامُهاits days وَشُهورُهاand its months
مَضَت سَنَةٌ أَيّامُها وَشُهورُها
I recognized, high in Ra'is al-Fa'w, after
I knew the high summits of Al-Fao after a year passed,
a year had passed, with its days and months,
Its days and months moved on,
مَنازِلُdwellings أَعرَتهاshe left them bare جُبَيرَةُJubayra وَاِلتَقَتand met
مَنازِلُ أَعرَتها جُبَيرَةُ وَاِلتَقَت
بِهاin them الريحُthe wind شَرقِيّاتُهاits easterlies وَدَبورُهاand its west wind
بِها الريحُ شَرقِيّاتُها وَدَبورُها
the dwellings Jubayra had left bare, where mingled
The abodes laid bare by Jubeira met there
the winds—their easterlies and their west wind.
The winds from east and west.
كَأَنas though لَمnot يُحَوِّضmade a trough for أَهلُهاtheir people الثَورَthe bull يَجتَنيgathers
كَأَن لَم يُحَوِّض أَهلُها الثَورَ يَجتَني
بِحافاتِهاalong their edges الخَطمِيَّmarshmallow plants غَضّاًfresh نَضيرُهاtheir radiant one
بِحافاتِها الخَطمِيَّ غَضّاً نَضيرُها
As though her people had never made the bull a trough; gathering
As if its people had not milked the cows there,
fresh marshmallow along their edges was their radiant one—
So the buffalo with truncated lips could graze on its fresh growth,
أَناةٌa gentle, unhurried woman كَرِئمِlike a white gazelle الرَملِthe sands نَوّامَةُfond of sleeping الضُحىlate morning
أَناةٌ كَرِئمِ الرَملِ نَوّامَةُ الضُحى
بَطيءٌslow عَلىat لَوثِwinding النِطاقِthe girdle بُكورُهاher early rising
بَطيءٌ عَلى لَوثِ النِطاقِ بُكورُها
a gentle woman like a sand gazelle, sleeping through late morning,
Patience, like the sand dunes sleepy at noon,
slow to rise and wind her girdle.
Slow over the stained loincloth its vigor spent,
إِذاwhen حُسِرَتwere drawn off عَنهاfrom her الجَلابيبُthe outer robes وَاِرتَدَتand she wrapped herself
إِذا حُسِرَت عَنها الجَلابيبُ وَاِرتَدَت
إِلىto الزَوجِthe husband مَيّالاًswaying يَكادُalmost يَصورُهاtilts her
إِلى الزَوجِ مَيّالاً يَكادُ يَصورُها
When her outer robes are drawn off and she wraps herself
When shifted aside were the robes, and it leaned
for her husband in a swaying mantle that almost tilts her,
Back toward the husband, you could almost depict it,
وَمُرتَجَّةُand quivering الأَردافِthe buttocks مِنfrom آلِthe family of جَعفَرٍJa'far
وَمُرتَجَّةُ الأَردافِ مِن آلِ جَعفَرٍ
مُخَضَّبَةُdyed الأَطرافِthe extremities بيضُwhite نُحورُهاher throats
مُخَضَّبَةُ الأَطرافِ بيضُ نُحورُها
and with quivering buttocks, of the house of Ja'far,
And the wide-hipped one from the clan of Ja’far
her fingertips dyed, white of neck.
Dyed at the limbs, white of breast,
تَعِجُّshe wails إِلىtoward القَتلىthe slain عَلَيهاupon her تَساقَطَتfell one after another
تَعِجُّ إِلى القَتلى عَلَيها تَساقَطَت
عَجيجَthe bellowing لِقاحٍof milch she-camels قَدalready تَجاوَبَanswered one another خورُهاtheir lowing
عَجيجَ لِقاحٍ قَد تَجاوَبَ خورُها
She wails for the slain who fell upon her,
She pulses for the dead who dropped upon her,
with the bellowing of milch camels whose lowing calls have answered one another.
Pulsing like pollen aroused in the depths of her womb,
كَأَنَّas though نَقاًa sand dune مِنfrom عالِجٍ'Alij أَزَّرَتshe girded herself بِهِwith it
كَأَنَّ نَقاً مِن عالِجٍ أَزَّرَت بِهِ
بِحَيثُwhere اِلتَقَتmet أَوراكُهاher hips وَخُصورُهاand her waists
بِحَيثُ اِلتَقَت أَوراكُها وَخُصورُها
As though she had girded herself with a dune from 'Alij
As if she were girt with a belt of mourner
where her hips and waist meet.
Where met her breasts and waist,
فَقَدfor indeed خِفتُI feared مِنbecause of تَذرافِstreaming tears عَينَيَّmy two eyes إِثرَهاafter her
فَقَد خِفتُ مِن تَذرافِ عَينَيَّ إِثرَها
عَلىfor بَصَريmy eyesight وَالعَينُand the eye يَعمىgoes blind بَصيرُهاits sight
عَلى بَصَري وَالعَينُ يَعمى بَصيرُها
Indeed, from my eyes' streaming tears after her, I feared
So I feared from my streaming tears their trace
for my sight; an eye's vision can go blind.
Upon my sight, though the eye is blind to her form,
تَفَجَّرَburst forth ماءُthe water العَينِof the eye كُلَّevery عَشِيَّةٍevening
تَفَجَّرَ ماءُ العَينِ كُلَّ عَشِيَّةٍ
وَلِلشَوقِand longing has ساعاتٌhours تَهيجُstir ذُكورُهاtheir recollections
وَلِلشَوقِ ساعاتٌ تَهيجُ ذُكورُها
The eye's water burst forth every evening,
The eye’s water burst forth every evening,
and longing has hours whose memories stir.
For yearning has hours that stir its vigor,
وَماand not خِفتُI feared وَشكَthe imminence البَينِof parting حَتّىuntil رَأَيتُهاI saw her
وَما خِفتُ وَشكَ البَينِ حَتّى رَأَيتُها
يُساقُis driven عَلىacross ذاتِDhat الجَلاميدِal-Jalamid عيرُهاher caravan
يُساقُ عَلى ذاتِ الجَلاميدِ عيرُها
I did not fear the imminence of parting until I saw her,
I feared nothing, not even our parting, until I saw her
her caravan being driven across Dhat al-Jalamid.
Led along on camel litters, her train,
وَماand not زِلتُI ceased أُزجيI send onward الطَرفَthe gaze مِنtoward حَيثُwhere يَمَّمَتshe headed
وَما زِلتُ أُزجي الطَرفَ مِن حَيثُ يَمَّمَت
مِنَof الأَرضِthe land حَتّىuntil رَدَّturned back عَينيmy eye حَسيرُهاits weary gaze
مِنَ الأَرضِ حَتّى رَدَّ عَيني حَسيرُها
And I kept sending my gaze toward where she had headed
Still I peer from where my gaze once centered
across the land, until my exhausted gaze was turned back.
On the ground, until her departure caused my eye to turn back,
فَرَدَّso brought back عَلَيَّto me العَينَthe eye وَهيَwhile it مَريضَةٌwas ailing
فَرَدَّ عَلَيَّ العَينَ وَهيَ مَريضَةٌ
هَذاليلُslender ridges بَطنَthe valley floor of الراحَتَينِal-Rahatayn وَقورُهاand its rocky hills
هَذاليلُ بَطنَ الراحَتَينِ وَقورُها
So my eye was brought back to me, ailing,
Turning my eye back though sickened,
by the slender ridges in al-Rahatayn's valley and its rocky hills.
The two palms, the somberness of her litters,
تَحَيَّرَwavered ذاويهاtheir withered growth إِذِwhen اِضطَرَدَswept along السَفاthe windblown dust
تَحَيَّرَ ذاويها إِذِ اِضطَرَدَ السَفا
وَهاجَتand raged لِأَيّامِduring the days of الثُرَيّاthe Pleiades حَرورُهاtheir scorching wind
وَهاجَت لِأَيّامِ الثُرَيّا حَرورُها
Their withered growth wavered as the dust swept along,
Her clan was distraught when the howdahs raced off
and their scorching wind raged in the days of the Pleiades.
And her days of joy boiled into grief.
Sol 6.1