يَاoh لَهُfor him فِيamong الرِّجَالِmen مِنْof رَجُلِa man
يَا لَهُ فِي الرِّجَالِ مِنْ رَجُلِ
خَافِقِthrobbing القَلبِthe heart سَاهِدِsleepless المُقَلِthe eyes!
خَافِقِ القَلبِ سَاهِدِ المُقَلِ!
What a man he is among men,
With throbbing heart and sleepless eyes!
يَلْعَبُplays الوَجْدُpassion فِيwithin جَوَانِحِهِhis breast
يَلْعَبُ الوَجْدُ فِي جَوَانِحِهِ
لِعْبَthe play of رِيحٍa wind هَبَّتْblew عَلَىupon شُعَلِflames
لِعْبَ رِيحٍ هَبَّتْ عَلَى شُعَلِ
Passion plays within his breast
Like wind that blows upon flames.
رَقَّgrew tender رُوحًاin spirit ورَقَّand grew tender عَاطِفَةًin feeling
رَقَّ رُوحًا ورَقَّ عَاطِفَةً
فَهُمَاso the two of them فِيهِin him عِلَّةُthe cause of العِلَلِills
فَهُمَا فِيهِ عِلَّةُ العِلَلِ
He grew tender in spirit and tender in feeling,
So in him the two are the cause of all ills.
عَلَّمَtaught الماءَthe water أَنْto يَئِنَّmoan كَمَاjust as
عَلَّمَ الماءَ أَنْ يَئِنَّ كَمَا
لَقَّنَtaught الطيرَthe birds نَوْحَةَthe lament of الثَّكَلِbereavement
لَقَّنَ الطيرَ نَوْحَةَ الثَّكَلِ
He taught the water to moan, just as
He taught the birds the lament of bereavement.
يَعْشَقُadores الحُسْنَbeauty فَهْوَfor it is خَمْرَتُهُhis wine
يَعْشَقُ الحُسْنَ فَهْوَ خَمْرَتُهُ
وَهْوَand he مِنْهَاfrom it كَالشَّارِبِlike the drinker الثَّمِلِdrunken
وَهْوَ مِنْهَا كَالشَّارِبِ الثَّمِلِ
He adores beauty: it is his wine,
And he is like a drinker made drunk by it.
يَتَغَنَّىsings بِالشِّعْرِin verse مُبْتَسِمًاsmiling
يَتَغَنَّى بِالشِّعْرِ مُبْتَسِمًا
وَيُغَنِّيand sings لِلأَعْيُنِto the eyes النُّجُلِwide
وَيُغَنِّي لِلأَعْيُنِ النُّجُلِ
He sings poetry with a smile,
And sings to wide, lovely eyes.
ذَاعَspread فِيthrough الكَونِthe universe صِيتُهُhis fame وَغَدَاand became
ذَاعَ فِي الكَونِ صِيتُهُ وَغَدَا
شِعْرُهُhis poetry فِيهِin it مَضْرِبَa subject for المَثَلِproverbial comparison
شِعْرُهُ فِيهِ مَضْرِبَ المَثَلِ
His fame spread through the universe, and
His poetry became proverbial throughout it.
مَعَdespite هَذَاthis مَاnot زَالَceased مُمْتَهَنَheld in contempt الـthe
مَعَ هَذَا مَا زَالَ مُمْتَهَنَ الـ
ـقَدْرِesteem رَهْنَhostage to الشَّقَاءِmisery وَالفَشَلِand failure
ـقَدْرِ رَهْنَ الشَّقَاءِ وَالفَشَلِ
Yet for all this, he is still held in low
Esteem, hostage to misery and failure.
غَاصَplunged فِيinto أَبْحُرِseas (poetic meters) القَرِيضِverse فَمِنْso from
غَاصَ فِي أَبْحُرِ القَرِيضِ فَمِنْ
كَامِلٍKamil meter وَافِرٍWafir meter إِلَىto رَمَلِRamal meter
كَامِلٍ وَافِرٍ إِلَى رَمَلِ
He plunged into the seas of verse, from
Kamil and Wafir to Ramal—
أَبْحُرٍseas رَحبَةِvast in العُبَابِsurging waters وَلَمْyet did not
أَبْحُرٍ رَحبَةِ العُبَابِ وَلَمْ
يُغْنِهِfree him from need مَاwhat بِهَاis in them عَنِfor الوَشَلِa trickle
يُغْنِهِ مَا بِهَا عَنِ الوَشَلِ
Seas of vast, swelling waters; yet
All they held could not spare him the need for a trickle.
كَمْhow many بُيُوتٍhouses (verses) بَنَتْbuilt قَرِيحَتُهُhis poetic gift
كَمْ بُيُوتٍ بَنَتْ قَرِيحَتُهُ
بِالمَعَانِيwith meanings تَزْهُوshine وَبِالجُمَلِand with phrases
بِالمَعَانِي تَزْهُو وَبِالجُمَلِ
How many houses of verse his poetic gift has built,
Resplendent with meanings and phrases!
ظَنَّthought فِيهَاin them الغِنَىwealth فَمَاbut not قَدَرَتْwere able
ظَنَّ فِيهَا الغِنَى فَمَا قَدَرَتْ
أَنْto تَقِيهِprotect him from نَوْمًاsleeping عَلَىon السُّبُلِthe roads
أَنْ تَقِيهِ نَوْمًا عَلَى السُّبُلِ
He thought wealth lay in them, yet they could not
Keep him from sleeping on the roads.
أَلْبَسَclothed الطِّرْسَthe page مِنْfrom خَوَاطِرِهِhis thoughts
أَلْبَسَ الطِّرْسَ مِنْ خَوَاطِرِهِ
حُلَلًاrobes وَهْوَwhile he مُعْدَمُdestitute of الحُلَلِrobes
حُلَلًا وَهْوَ مُعْدَمُ الحُلَلِ
From his thoughts he clothed the page
In robes, while he had no robes himself.
وَتَرَاهُand you see him صِفرَempty اليَدَيْنِboth hands وَكَمْyet how many
وَتَرَاهُ صِفرَ اليَدَيْنِ وَكَمْ
نَظَمَتْstrung كَفُّهُhis hand عقودَnecklaces of حُلِيjewels
نَظَمَتْ كَفُّهُ عقودَ حُلِي
You see him empty-handed, yet how many
Jeweled necklaces his hand has strung!
أَسْكَرَintoxicated النَّاسَthe people وَهْوَwhile he بَيْنَهُمُamong them
أَسْكَرَ النَّاسَ وَهْوَ بَيْنَهُمُ
فَاقِدُdevoid of الزَّهوِelation خَائِبُdisappointed in الأمَلِhope
فَاقِدُ الزَّهوِ خَائِبُ الأمَلِ
He intoxicated the people, while among them
He was joyless, his hopes dashed.
هُمُthey يَتْلُونَintone آهِAh! مِنْfrom طَرَبٍrapture
هُمُ يَتْلُونَ آهِ مِنْ طَرَبٍ
وَهْوَwhile he يَتْلُوintones آهًاAh! مِنَfrom المَلَلِweariness
وَهْوَ يَتْلُو آهًا مِنَ المَلَلِ
They intone 'Ah!' out of rapture,
While he intones 'Ah!' out of weariness.
إِنَّindeed هَذَاthis man، وَأَنْتَand you تَعْرِفُهُknow him،
إِنَّ هَذَا، وَأَنْتَ تَعْرِفُهُ،
شَاعِرُpoet of الأَمْسِyesterday شَاعِرُpoet of الأَزَلِeternity
شَاعِرُ الأَمْسِ شَاعِرُ الأَزَلِ
This man indeed—and you know him—
Is the poet of yesterday, the poet of all eternity.
كَانَwas أَشْقَىthe most wretched of الوَرَىhumankind بِحَالَتِهِin his condition
كَانَ أَشْقَى الوَرَى بِحَالَتِهِ
وَسَيَبْقَىand he will remain كَذَاthus وَلَمْand has not يَزَلِceased
وَسَيَبْقَى كَذَا وَلَمْ يَزَلِ
In his plight, he was the most wretched of mortals,
And so he will remain, as he has always been.
هُوَhe «أَعْشًىA‘sha» يَنُوحُlaments مُكْتَئِبًاdejected
هُوَ «أَعْشًى» يَنُوحُ مُكْتَئِبًا
وَand«زُهَيْرٌZuhayr» يَشْدُوsings عَلَىon الجَمَلِthe camel
وَ«زُهَيْرٌ» يَشْدُو عَلَى الجَمَلِ
He is A‘sha, lamenting in dejection,
And Zuhayr, singing on the camel.
هُوَhe «قَيْسٌQays» يُجِنُّgoes mad مِنْfrom وَلَهٍlonging
هُوَ «قَيْسٌ» يُجِنُّ مِنْ وَلَهٍ
وَand«ابْنُson of حُجْرٍHujr» يَبْكِيweeps عَلَىover الطَّلَلِthe ruins
وَ«ابْنُ حُجْرٍ» يَبْكِي عَلَى الطَّلَلِ
He is Qays, going mad with longing,
And Ibn Hujr, weeping over the ruins.
حَكَمَdecreed الدَّهْرُTime أَنْthat نمَاشيَهُwe walk beside him
حَكَمَ الدَّهْرُ أَنْ نمَاشيَهُ
فَلَكَso for you البَعْضُa share مِنْof شَقَاهُhis misery وَلِيand for me
فَلَكَ البَعْضُ مِنْ شَقَاهُ وَلِي
Time has decreed that we walk beside him,
So you share in his misery, and so do I,
فِيin زَمَانٍan age يُرْدِيdestroys النُّبُوغَgenius وَلَاand no
فِي زَمَانٍ يُرْدِي النُّبُوغَ وَلَا
فَرْقَdistinction بِالشِّعْرِregarding poetry فِيهِin it وَالزَّجَلِand zajal (vernacular verse)
فَرْقَ بِالشِّعْرِ فِيهِ وَالزَّجَلِ
In an age that destroys genius and makes no
Distinction between poetry and zajal.
شَقِيَتْbecame wretched حَالَةُthe lot of الأدِيبِthe writer فَهَاso here
شَقِيَتْ حَالَةُ الأدِيبِ فَهَا
أَنَاI أَجْفُوshun طِرْسِيmy page إِلَىuntil أَجَلِa set time
أَنَا أَجْفُو طِرْسِي إِلَى أَجَلِ
The writer's lot has grown wretched; so here
I am, shunning my page for a time.
قُلْsay مَعِيwith me يَاO حَلِيمُHalim مِنْfrom لَهَفٍanguish:
قُلْ مَعِي يَا حَلِيمُ مِنْ لَهَفٍ:
دَوْلَةُthe realm of الشِّعْرِpoetry أَتْعَسُthe most wretched of الدُّوَلِrealms!
دَوْلَةُ الشِّعْرِ أَتْعَسُ الدُّوَلِ!
Say with me, O Halim, in anguish:
The realm of poetry is the most wretched of realms!
Sol 6.1