بَشَّرَgave glad tidings بِالصُبحِof the dawn طائِرٌa bird هَتَفاcried out
بَشَّرَ بِالصُبحِ طائِرٌ هَتَفا
مُستَوفِياًstanding at full height لِلجِدارِupon the wall مُشتَرِفاperched aloft
مُستَوفِياً لِلجِدارِ مُشتَرِفا
A bird cried out, heralding the dawn,
A bird chirped glad tidings of the dawn
Standing tall upon the wall, perched aloft.
Surveying the wall, looking out
مُذَكِّراًreminding بِالصَبوحِof the morning draught صاحَit called بِناto us
مُذَكِّراً بِالصَبوحِ صاحَ بِنا
كَخاطِبٍlike a preacher فَوقَupon مِنبَرٍa pulpit وَقَفاstood
كَخاطِبٍ فَوقَ مِنبَرٍ وَقَفا
Reminding us of the morning draught, it called to us,
Reminding us of the early morn, it called out to us
Like a preacher standing upon a pulpit.
Like an orator standing atop a pulpit
صَفَّقَit flapped its wings إِمّاeither اِرتِياحَةًin delight لِسَنىat the radiance of الthe
صَفَّقَ إِمّا اِرتِياحَةً لِسَنى ال
فَجرِdawn وَإِمّاor else عَلىover الدُجىthe darkness أَسَفاin sorrow
فَجرِ وَإِمّا عَلى الدُجى أَسَفا
It flapped its wings, either in delight at the radiance of
It twittered, rejoicing in the dawn’s first light
Dawn, or in sorrow for the darkness.
Or grieving the darkness’ departure
فَاِشرَبso drink عُقاراًwine كَأَنَّهاas though it were قَبَسٌa firebrand
فَاِشرَب عُقاراً كَأَنَّها قَبَسٌ
قَدalready سَبَكَsmelted الدَهرُtime تِبرَهاits raw gold فَصَفاand it became pure
قَد سَبَكَ الدَهرُ تِبرَها فَصَفا
So drink a wine that seems a glowing firebrand:
So drink a draught as if it were an ember
Time has smelted its raw gold, leaving it pure.
Which time has forged, refining its gleam
تُدميit bloodies فِدامَthe straining-cloth of الإِبريقِthe ewer مِنfrom دَمِهاits blood
تُدمي فِدامَ الإِبريقِ مِن دَمِها
كَأَنَّهُas though it were راعِفٌbleeding from the nose وَماyet it has not رَعَفاbled from the nose
كَأَنَّهُ راعِفٌ وَما رَعَفا
It bloodies the ewer's straining-cloth with its blood,
It spills into the pitcher’s brim, its blood
As though the ewer had a nosebleed, though it has not bled.
As if it sighs, though it has never sighed
بِكَفِّin the hand of ساقٍa cupbearer حُلوٍsweet شَمائِلُهُhis manners
بِكَفِّ ساقٍ حُلوٍ شَمائِلُهُ
مُكَرِّهٌmaking forbidding لَحظَthe glance of عَينِهِhis eye صَلَفاout of haughtiness
مُكَرِّهٌ لَحظَ عَينِهِ صَلَفا
In the hand of a cupbearer whose manners are sweet,
With a fair leg whose curves compel
Who makes his gaze forbidding out of pride.
Its languorous gaze to wander
يَقطُرُdrips مِسكاًmusk عَلىonto غَلائِلِهِhis fine robes
يَقطُرُ مِسكاً عَلى غَلائِلِهِ
شُعرُthe hair of نَقاa sand-dune بِالعَبيرِwith perfume قَدalready وَكَفاhas dripped
شُعرُ نَقا بِالعَبيرِ قَد وَكَفا
Musk drips onto his fine robes
Musk drips from its locks onto its braids
From a sand-dune's hair, already streaming with perfume.
Hair softly scented with perfume it has folded
أَفرَغَhe poured out مِنfrom دُرِّهِhis pearls وَعَنبَرِهِand his ambergris
أَفرَغَ مِن دُرِّهِ وَعَنبَرِهِ
حُسناًbeauty وَطيباًand fragrance فيin خَلقِهِhis form اِئتَلَفاthe two united
حُسناً وَطيباً في خَلقِهِ اِئتَلَفا
He poured forth from his pearls and ambergris
It has emptied its pearls and ambergris
Beauty and fragrance, united in his form.
Into the beauty and sweetness married in its form
يُطَيِّبُhe perfumes الريحَthe wind حينَwhen يَمسَحُهُit brushes him
يُطَيِّبُ الريحَ حينَ يَمسَحُهُ
فَماso he has not بِريحٍby any breeze هَبَّتthat blew عَلَيهِupon him خَفاbeen hidden
فَما بِريحٍ هَبَّت عَلَيهِ خَفا
He perfumes the wind as it brushes him;
It sweetens the air when it strokes it
So no breeze blowing upon him leaves him hidden.
No breeze has ever wafted over it, gently
أَراقَhe poured فيهاinto it المَزاجَthe mixing-water فَاِشتَعَلَتand it flared up
أَراقَ فيها المَزاجَ فَاِشتَعَلَت
كَمِثلِjust like نارٍa fire أَطعَمتَهاyou fed it سَعَفاpalm fronds
كَمِثلِ نارٍ أَطعَمتَها سَعَفا
He poured the mixing-water into it, and it flared,
It has spilled its temperament into it, and it caught flame
Like a fire you fed with palm fronds.
Like a fire fed with straw and kindling
Sol 6.1