يَاO أَديِباًman of letters أَزْرَىput to shame بِكُلِّevery أَدِيبِman of letters
يَا أَديِباً أَزْرَى بِكُلِّ أَدِيبِ
ضَرَبُthick white honey الشُّهْدِthe honeycomb أَنْتَyou دُونَwithout ضَرِيبِa peer
ضَرَبُ الشُّهْدِ أَنْتَ دُونَ ضَرِيبِ
O man of letters who has put every man of letters to shame,
O writer, most generous of all writers,
You are the comb’s thick white honey, without a peer.
Your poetry surpasses any poetry.
زَعَمَclaimed النَّاسُthe people أَنَّthat طَبْعَكَyour nature حُلْوٌsweet
زَعَمَ النَّاسُ أَنَّ طَبْعَكَ حُلْوٌ
قُلْتُI said وَالطَّبْعُand nature بِاصْطِلاَحِin the terminology of الطَّبِيبِthe physician
قُلْتُ وَالطَّبْعُ بِاصْطِلاَحِ الطَّبِيبِ
The people claimed that your nature is sweet;
People claim your nature is sweet,
I said: “And ‘nature’ in the physician’s terminology.”
I said: nature is as the doctor prescribes.
Sol 6.1