وَلَيلٍand a night كَلَونِlike the color of الطَّيلَسانِthe mantle سَرَيتُهُI journeyed through it by night
وَلَيلٍ كَلَونِ الطَّيلَسانِ سَرَيتُهُ
عَلىupon بَطنِthe belly of خَودِa maiden بَضَّةِsoft-skinned المُتَجَرّدِthe bared body
عَلى بَطنِ خَودِ بَضَّةِ المُتَجَرّدِ
And a night the color of a mantle I journeyed through,
Through the night like the color of dark blue I strolled,
Upon the belly of a maiden, soft in her naked skin.
Over the chest of the bare plains,
جزوعٍskittish عَلىabout الإِدلاجِnight travel أَعجَلُthe swiftest سَيرهاher pace
جزوعٍ عَلى الإِدلاجِ أَعجَلُ سَيرها
الوُقوفُstanding still إِذاwhen اِستَعجَلتُI urge haste وَالضَّمُّand clasping بِاليَدِwith the hand
الوُقوفُ إِذا اِستَعجَلتُ وَالضَّمُّ بِاليَدِ
Skittish at night travel; her swiftest pace
My she-camel strides faster when urged,
Is standing still, when I urge haste, and clasping with the hand.
But stops when I pull her to a sudden halt.
يَقولُit says وَيَشكوand complains الأَيرَthe penis أَتعَبَنيhas tired me السُّرىnight travel
يَقولُ وَيَشكو الأَيرَ أَتعَبَني السُّرى
وَأَنصَبَنيand has exhausted me قَطعُcrossing الفِراشِthe bed المُمَهَّدِwell-spread
وَأَنصَبَني قَطعُ الفِراشِ المُمَهَّدِ
The penis says and complains: “Night travel has tired me,
She complains and moans as if saying, "The journey has wearied me,
And crossing the well-spread bed has exhausted me.”
And crossing the smooth sands has exhausted me."
أَجِدُّI press on وَماand not ليfor me حاجَةa need حِينَwhen أَستَويI settle myself
أَجِدُّ وَما لي حاجَة حِينَ أَستَوي
عَلَيهاupon her سِواهاother than her بِالنجاءِwith swift travel العَمَرَّدِforceful
عَلَيها سِواها بِالنجاءِ العَمَرَّدِ
I press on and have no need, when I settle
I coax her, though I have no need when she lies down,
Upon her, for anything but her, with forceful haste.
Except to be near her, adorned with saddlecloth.
إِذاwhen أَعمَلَتshe exerts herself فيin السَّيرِtravel كانَwas خِطامُهاher halter
إِذا أَعمَلَت في السَّيرِ كانَ خِطامُها
التَّثاميmy kissing بِماon that which يَشفىquenches بريقَتهwith its saliva الصَّدىthirst
التَّثامي بِما يَشفى بريقَته الصَّدى
When she exerts herself in travel, her halter is
When she walks her pace is graceful,
My kissing that whose saliva quenches thirst.
Her ornaments soothing my hearing with their gentle tinkling.
أَخُبُّI trot عَلَيهاupon her وَهيَwhile she تَحتَbeneath مَقَرِّهِits resting place
أَخُبُّ عَلَيها وَهيَ تَحتَ مَقَرِّهِ
وَأَرقُدُand I sleep مِنهاof her بينbetween بَطنٍa belly وَمَسجِدِand a place of prostration
وَأَرقُدُ مِنها بين بَطنٍ وَمَسجِدِ
I trot upon her while she is beneath its resting place,
I lean over her as she halts beneath me,
And sleep upon her, between belly and a place of prostration.
And I sleep pressed between her chest and neck.
حوارِيَّةٌa fair-skinned woman زينُthe adornment of النِّقابِthe veil اِنتِقابِهاher wearing the veil
حوارِيَّةٌ زينُ النِّقابِ اِنتِقابِها
وَإِنand if سَفَرَتshe unveils فَالشَّمسُthen the sun وافَتhas arrived بِأَسعَدِwith greater good fortune
وَإِن سَفَرَت فَالشَّمسُ وافَت بِأَسعَدِ
A fair-skinned woman: her wearing the veil adorns the veil.
A lovely doe, the veil's elegance suits her,
And if she unveils, the sun appears under a happier omen.
Outshining the sun wherever she travels.
وَإِنand if قَعَدتُI sit زانَadorned القُعودَsitting قُعودُهاher sitting
وَإِن قَعَدتُ زانَ القُعودَ قُعودُها
وَإِنand if تَمشِshe walks لاnot يَعدمكَfails you حُسنُthe beauty of التَّأَوُّدِswaying
وَإِن تَمشِ لا يَعدمكَ حُسنُ التَّأَوُّدِ
And if I sit, her sitting lends grace to sitting.
When I sit, her posture graces the sitting,
And if she walks, the beauty of her swaying never fails you.
When she walks, her grace completes the stroll.
فَهاتيكَso that woman أَقرىI offer hospitality طارِقَthe night-visitor of الهَمِّcare لاnot الَّتيthe one who
فَهاتيكَ أَقرى طارِقَ الهَمِّ لا الَّتي
تَروحُgoes forth at evening بِأَحناءِbearing the bent frames of الرِّجالِmen وَتَغتَديand goes forth at dawn
تَروحُ بِأَحناءِ الرِّجالِ وَتَغتَدي
So with her I entertain care’s night-visitor, not with the one
She who dispels my cares, not she who mingles
Who goes forth at dusk bearing men’s bent frames, and goes forth at dawn.
Among men, gorging herself on their flesh.
فِداءٌa ransom لِوَصفِfor the description of الحُورِbright-eyed women وَصفُthe description of اِبنa son of ناقَةٍa she-camel
فِداءٌ لِوَصفِ الحُورِ وَصفُ اِبن ناقَةٍ
وَيفديand ransoms الحَلاunclear; perhaps camel-driver’s chant لَحنَthe melody of الغَريضِal-Gharid وَمعنِدِand Maʿnid
وَيفدي الحَلا لَحنَ الغَريضِ وَمعنِدِ
Let a camel calf’s description be ransom for that of bright-eyed beauties.
A description of nymphs describes Ibn Naqah*
And let the camel-driver’s chant [uncertain reading] ransom the melody of al-Gharid and Maʿnid.
While song redeems the coarse croaking raven.
وَتَفديand ransom لَناfor us فيin جانِبِthe quarter of الكرخِal-Karkh مَنزِلاًa dwelling
وَتَفدي لَنا في جانِبِ الكرخِ مَنزِلاً
رُسومٌtraces وَأَطلالٌand ruins بِبُرقَةat Burqat ثَهمَدِThahmad
رُسومٌ وَأَطلالٌ بِبُرقَة ثَهمَدِ
And let a home for us in the quarter of al-Karkh be ransomed
And may a dwelling on Karakh's** side ransom us,
By traces and ruins at Burqat Thahmad.
An abode in ruins, places flattened and desolate.
أَلَمdid … not? تَرَنيyou see me أَعمَلتُI put to work نَفسيmyself فيin الصِّبىyouthful folly
أَلَم تَرَني أَعمَلتُ نَفسي في الصِّبى
وَلاand not أَتَوَقَّىI guard against اليَومَtoday نائِبَةَthe calamity of الغَدِtomorrow
وَلا أَتَوَقَّى اليَومَ نائِبَةَ الغَدِ
Have you not seen me devote myself to youthful folly?
Did you not see me make myself endure separation in youth,
And today I do not guard against tomorrow’s calamity.
Not fearing the morrow might bring parting?
أعاذِلَO reproacher لاnot أَدعىI am called المقَصِّرَthe one who falls short فيin الضِّبىunclear; perhaps youthful folly
أعاذِلَ لا أَدعى المقَصِّرَ في الضِّبى
وَلاand not أَتَوَقَّىI guard against اليَومtoday نائِبَةthe calamity of الغَدِtomorrow
وَلا أَتَوَقَّى اليَوم نائِبَة الغَدِ
O reproacher, I am not to be called remiss in youthful folly [uncertain reading],
I blame not the laggard in youth,
And today I do not guard against tomorrow’s calamity.
Nor fear the morrow might bring parting.
أعاذِلO reproacher لَمnot أَبلُغI have reached فَأَصحوso that I sober up وَأَرتَدِعand desist
أعاذِل لَم أَبلُغ فَأَصحو وَأَرتَدِع
أَشدِّيmy full maturity وَلاnor ماnot جاوَزَhas passed النّصفhalfway مَولِديmy age since birth
أَشدِّي وَلا ما جاوَزَ النّصف مَولِدي
O reproacher, I have not reached—so as to sober up and desist—
I blame not, for I've not reached ripeness, so I wake and cry out,
My full maturity, nor has my age passed halfway.
"Curb your beast, my youth still short of halfway!"
لَعَلِّيperhaps I إِذاwhen جاوَزتُI have passed خَمسينَfifty حجَّةًyears
لَعَلِّي إِذا جاوَزتُ خَمسينَ حجَّةً
وَعَشراًand ten وَتِسعاًand nine بَعدَafter حولa year مُجَرَّدِsingle
وَعَشراً وَتِسعاً بَعدَ حول مُجَرَّدِ
Perhaps, when I have passed fifty years,
Maybe when fifty pilgrimages,
And ten and nine, after one single year,
Plus nineteen more, after a single cycle have passed,
أُراجِعُI return to سُلواناًfreedom from passion وَإِنِّيand indeed I لَخائِفٌam truly afraid
أُراجِعُ سُلواناً وَإِنِّي لَخائِفٌ
فَإِنso if حَقَّproves true خَوفيmy fear فَالثَّمانونَthen eighty مَوعِديmy appointed time
فَإِن حَقَّ خَوفي فَالثَّمانونَ مَوعِدي
I shall return to freedom from passion—yet I am truly afraid;
I'll revisit Sulwan,*** though I'm afraid,
And if my fear proves true, then eighty is my appointed time.
For if my fear proves true, eighty years is my appointed time.
Sol 6.1