فَدَيتُكَmay I be your ransom إِنَّindeed شُربيmy drinking فيin كَنيفa privy
فَدَيتُكَ إِنَّ شُربي في كَنيف
وَنَدمانيand my boon companion البَعيدِfar removed مِنَfrom الطَّريفِwit
وَنَدماني البَعيدِ مِنَ الطَّريفِ
May I be your ransom! My drinking is in a privy,
I ransom you, my drinking in a tavern
and my boon companion, far removed from wit,
And my regret being far from companionship
دَعانيhe invited me كَيso that تَقَرَّgrow cool; be gladdened العَينُthe eye مِنّيof mine
دَعاني كَي تَقَرَّ العَينُ مِنّي
فَأَسخَنَهاbut he heated it بِأَقوامٍwith groups of people لَفيفِmotley
فَأَسخَنَها بِأَقوامٍ لَفيفِ
invited me so that my eye might cool with joy,
Summoned me so eyes may find rest in me
but heated it with a motley crowd.
Yet inflamed them with destitute company
تُقَوِّمُهُمyou appraise them إِذاif بيعواthey were sold جَميعاًall together
تُقَوِّمُهُم إِذا بيعوا جَميعاً
بِكسوَتِهِمwith their clothing قَريباًclose مِنto رَغيفِa loaf of bread
بِكسوَتِهِم قَريباً مِن رَغيفِ
You would value them, if they were all sold,
Appraising them together if sold
with their clothing, at about a loaf of bread.
Barely a loaf’s worth in their clothing
فَلَمand never أَرI saw فِتيَةًyoung men إِمّاwhen تَغَنَّواthey sang
فَلَم أَر فِتيَةً إِمّا تَغَنَّوا
كَأَنَّas though غِناءَهُمtheir singing ضَربُthe striking السُّيوفِof swords
كَأَنَّ غِناءَهُم ضَربُ السُّيوفِ
I have never seen young men who, when they sang,
I have not seen youths except singing
sounded as though their singing were the clash of swords,
As if their singing striking swords
سِوىexcept النَّفَرِthe band of men الَّذينَwhom فَرَرتُI fled مِنهُمfrom them
سِوى النَّفَرِ الَّذينَ فَرَرتُ مِنهُم
أُبالِطُهُمI dispute with them إِلىto رَبّa Lord رَؤوفِcompassionate
أُبالِطُهُم إِلى رَبّ رَؤوفِ
except the band of men from whom I fled—
Except the band I fled from
I bring my dispute with them to a compassionate Lord.
Appealing for mercy from a Kind Lord
Sol 6.1