لاdo not تَنكِحَنmarry بَعديafter me فَتىyoung man نَمِرِيَّةًa Namiri woman
لا تَنكِحَن بَعدي فَتى نَمِرِيَّةً
مُزَمَّلَةًswathed مِنfrom بَعلِهاher husband لِبِعادِfor estrangement
مُزَمَّلَةً مِن بَعلِها لِبِعادِ
Young man, never marry a Namiri woman after me,
Do not marry, after me, a tigress of a wife
swathed in estrangement from her husband,
All wrapped up against her mate’s affections,
وَبَيضاءَand fair-skinned زَعراءَscant-haired المَفارِقِthe hair-partings شَجنَةًa tangled bough
وَبَيضاءَ زَعراءَ المَفارِقِ شَجنَةً
مُوَلَّعَةًmottled فيin خُضرَةٍgreen وَسَوادِand black
مُوَلَّعَةً في خُضرَةٍ وَسَوادِ
and fair-skinned, scant-haired at the partings, a tangled bough,
A woman pale and passionate when parted,
mottled in green and black.
Yet ardent in the verdure and the night.
لَهاshe has بَشَرٌskin شَثنٌcoarse كَأَنَّas though مَضَمَّهُclasping it
لَها بَشَرٌ شَثنٌ كَأَنَّ مَضَمَّهُ
إِذاwhen عانَقَتshe embraces بَعلاًa husband مَضَمُّclasping قَتادِa thornbush
إِذا عانَقَت بَعلاً مَضَمُّ قَتادِ
Her skin is coarse, as though clasping it,
Her kisses leave upon her chosen’s mouth
when she embraces a husband, were clasping a thornbush.
A brand as though he’d kissed hot copper rods.
قَرَنتُI yoked بِنَفسيto myself الشُؤمَill fortune فيin وِردِcoming to drink حَوضِهاher pool
قَرَنتُ بِنَفسي الشُؤمَ في وِردِ حَوضِها
فَجُرِّعتُهُso I was made to gulp it مِلحاًsalty بِماءِwith water رَمادِashes
فَجُرِّعتُهُ مِلحاً بِماءِ رَمادِ
I yoked ill fortune to myself when I came to drink at her pool,
I've linked my soul with misfortune by the lip
so I was made to gulp it down, salty, with ash-water.
Of her sweet spring, and drunk down bitterness.
وَماand not زِلتُI ceased حَتّىuntil فَرَّقَseparated اللَهُGod بَينَناbetween us
وَما زِلتُ حَتّى فَرَّقَ اللَهُ بَينَنا
لَهُto Him الحَمدُpraise مِنهاfrom her فيin أَذىًsuffering وَجِهادِand struggle
لَهُ الحَمدُ مِنها في أَذىً وَجِهادِ
And until God parted us, I never ceased—
Nor did I rest until God parted us -
praise be to Him—to suffer and struggle at her hands.
Praise be to Him for that, despite her blows!
تُجَدِّدُshe renews ليfor me ذِكرىthe memory عَذابِtorment جَهَنَّمٍHell
تُجَدِّدُ لي ذِكرى عَذابِ جَهَنَّمٍ
ثَلاثاًthree times تُمَسّينيshe greets me at evening بِهاwith it وَتُغاديand she visits in the morning
ثَلاثاً تُمَسّيني بِها وَتُغادي
She renews for me the memory of Hell’s torment,
Thrice nightly she renews the hellish torment,
three times over, greeting me with it at evening and visiting at dawn.
At dusk assailing me, at dawn away.
Sol 6.1