لَئِنif indeed خَرَّمَتhave snatched away عَنّيfrom me المَناياthe fates of death مُحَمَّداًMuhammad
لَئِن خَرَّمَت عَنّي المَنايا مُحَمَّداً
لَقَدsurely كانَhad أَفنىdestroyed الأَوَّلينَthose who came before اِختِرامُهاtheir snatching away
لَقَد كانَ أَفنى الأَوَّلينَ اِختِرامُها
If indeed the fates have snatched Muhammad from me,
their snatching had already destroyed those who came before.
فَتىًa young man كانَused to لاnot يُبليwear out الإِزارَthe waistcloth وَسَيفُهُand his sword
فَتىً كانَ لا يُبلي الإِزارَ وَسَيفُهُ
بِهِthrough it لِلمَواليfor the kinsmen فيin التُرابِthe dust اِنتِقامُهاtheir vengeance
بِهِ لِلمَوالي في التُرابِ اِنتِقامُها
A young man who never wore out his waistcloth; his sword—
through it, his kinsmen in the dust had their vengeance.
فَتىًa young man لَمnot يَكُنwas يُدعىcalled upon فَتىًa young man لَيسَnot مِثلَهُlike him
فَتىً لَم يَكُن يُدعى فَتىً لَيسَ مِثلَهُ
إِذاwhen الريحُthe wind ساقَdrove الشَولَthe milkless she-camels شَلّاًwith a hard driving جَهامُهاits rainless clouds
إِذا الريحُ ساقَ الشَولَ شَلّاً جَهامُها
A young man—none unlike him was called upon
when the wind's rainless clouds drove the milkless she-camels hard.
فَتىًa young man كَشِهابِlike a meteor of اللَيلِthe night يَرفَعُraises نارَهُhis fire
فَتىً كَشِهابِ اللَيلِ يَرفَعُ نارَهُ
إِذاwhen النارُthe fire أَخباهاextinguished it لِسارٍfor a night-traveler ضِرامُهاits kindling
إِذا النارُ أَخباها لِسارٍ ضِرامُها
A young man like a meteor in the night, raising his fire
when a fire's own kindling left it dark for a night-traveler.
وَكُنّاand we used to نَرىsee مِنfrom غالِبٍGhalib فيin مُحَمَّدٍMuhammad
وَكُنّا نَرى مِن غالِبٍ في مُحَمَّدٍ
خَلايِقَqualities يَعلوsurpasses الفاعِلينَmen of deeds جِسامُهاtheir greatest
خَلايِقَ يَعلو الفاعِلينَ جِسامُها
And in Muhammad we would see something of Ghalib:
qualities whose greatest surpassed men of deeds—
تَكَرُّمَهُhis noble refraining عَمّاfrom what يُعَيَّرُone is reproached for وَالقِرىand hospitality
تَكَرُّمَهُ عَمّا يُعَيَّرُ وَالقِرى
إِذاwhen السَنَةُthe year الحَمراءُthe red جَلَّحَgrew harsh عامُهاits year
إِذا السَنَةُ الحَمراءُ جَلَّحَ عامُها
his noble shunning of shame, and his hospitality
when the red year grew harsh in its course.
وَكانَand he was حَياًlife-giving rain لِلمُمحِلينَfor the drought-stricken وَعِصمَةًand a refuge
وَكانَ حَياً لِلمُمحِلينَ وَعِصمَةً
إِذاwhen السَنَةُthe year الشَهباءُthe ash-gray حَلَّbecame lawful حَرامُهاits forbidden things
إِذا السَنَةُ الشَهباءُ حَلَّ حَرامُها
He was life-giving rain for the drought-stricken, and a refuge
when the ash-gray year's forbidden things became lawful.
وَقَدand indeed كانَhe was مِتعابَone who exhausted المَطِيِّthe mounts عَلىdespite الوَجاsore feet
وَقَد كانَ مِتعابَ المَطِيِّ عَلى الوَجا
وَبِالسَيفِand with the sword زادُprovisions for المُرمِلينَthe destitute اِعتِيامُهاselecting them for slaughter
وَبِالسَيفِ زادُ المُرمِلينَ اِعتِيامُها
He would wear out his mounts, despite their sore feet,
and with his sword choose them as food for the destitute.
وَماand no مِنany فَتىًyoung man كُنّاwe would نَبيعُexchange مُحَمَّداًMuhammad
وَما مِن فَتىً كُنّا نَبيعُ مُحَمَّداً
بِهِfor him حينَwhen تَعتَزُّgrew formidable الأُمورُthe affairs عِظامُهاtheir greatest
بِهِ حينَ تَعتَزُّ الأُمورُ عِظامُها
There was no young man we would exchange Muhammad
for, when the weightiest affairs grew daunting,
إِذاwhen ماindeed شِتاءُthe winter of المَحلِdrought أَمسىhad become قَدِalready اِرتَدىrobed
إِذا ما شِتاءُ المَحلِ أَمسى قَدِ اِرتَدى
بِمِثلِin something like سَحيقِthreadbare الأُرجُوانِcrimson cloth قِتامُهاits dusty gloom
بِمِثلِ سَحيقِ الأُرجُوانِ قِتامُها
when the winter of drought had come robed
in dusty gloom like threadbare crimson cloth.
أَقولُI say إِذاwhen قالواthey say وَكَمand how many مِنof قَبيلَةٍa tribe
أَقولُ إِذا قالوا وَكَم مِن قَبيلَةٍ
حَوالَيكَaround you لَمnot يُترَكhas been left عَلَيهاupon it سِنامُهاits hump
حَوالَيكَ لَم يُترَك عَلَيها سِنامُها
I say, when they say, 'How many a tribe
around you has been left without its hump!':
أَبىrefused ذِكرَremembrance of سَوراتٍsurges of valor إِذاwhen حُلَّتِwere untied الحُبىthe knee-bindings
أَبى ذِكرَ سَوراتٍ إِذا حُلَّتِ الحُبى
وَعِندَand at القِرىthe guest-feast وَالأَرضُwhile the earth بالٍwithered ثُمامُهاits thumam grass
وَعِندَ القِرى وَالأَرضُ بالٍ ثُمامُها
'The memory of his fierce deeds denies me solace: when knee-bands were untied,
and at the guest-feast, when the earth's thumam grass lay withered.'
سَأَبكيكَI shall weep for you ماكانَتas long as there remains بِنَفسيin my soul حُشاشَةٌa remnant of life
سَأَبكيكَ ماكانَت بِنَفسي حُشاشَةٌ
وَماand as long as دَبَّcreeps فَوقَupon الأَرضِthe earth يَمشيwalking أَنامُهاits creatures
وَما دَبَّ فَوقَ الأَرضِ يَمشي أَنامُها
I shall weep for you as long as a remnant of life remains in me,
and as long as the earth's creatures creep and walk upon it;
وَماand as long as لاحَgleams نَجمٌa star فيin السَماءِthe sky وَماand as long as دَعاcalls to
وَما لاحَ نَجمٌ في السَماءِ وَما دَعا
حَمامَةَa dove أَيكٍa thicket فَوقَabove ساقٍa tree-trunk حَمامُهاher mate
حَمامَةَ أَيكٍ فَوقَ ساقٍ حَمامُها
and as long as a star gleams in the sky, and a call goes out
to a woodland dove upon a tree-trunk from her mate.
فَهَلso can تَرجِعُrestore النَفسَthe soul الَّتيwhich قَدalready تَفَرَّقَتhave scattered
فَهَل تَرجِعُ النَفسَ الَّتي قَد تَفَرَّقَت
حَياةُthe life of صَدىًan owl تَحتَbeneath القُبورِthe graves عِظامُهاits bones
حَياةُ صَدىً تَحتَ القُبورِ عِظامُها
Can it restore the soul whose bones lie scattered
beneath the graves—the life of an owl?
وَلَيسَand is not بِمَحبوسٍheld back عَنِfrom النَفسِthe soul مُرسَلٌone sent
وَلَيسَ بِمَحبوسٍ عَنِ النَفسِ مُرسَلٌ
إِلَيهاto it إِذاwhen نَفسٌa soul أَتاهاthere came to it حِمامُهاits appointed death
إِلَيها إِذا نَفسٌ أَتاها حِمامُها
No emissary can be held back from a soul,
sent to it when that soul's appointed death arrives.
Sol 6.1