حَمامَةَO dove البانِthe moringa tree بِذاتِat Dhat الغَضاal-Ghada
حَمامَةَ البانِ بِذاتِ الغَضا
ضاقَgrew narrow لِماbecause of what حَمَّلتِنيهِyou made me bear it الفَضاthe expanse
ضاقَ لِما حَمَّلتِنيهِ الفَضا
O dove of the moringa tree at Dhat al-Ghada,
The dove of the wilderness in her solitude
The expanse has grown narrow from what you made me bear.
Is oppressed by the vastness of space
مَنwho ذاthis one الَّذيwho يَحمِلُbears شَجوَthe sorrow of الهَوىlove
مَن ذا الَّذي يَحمِلُ شَجوَ الهَوى
مَنwho ذاthis one الَّذيwho يَجرَعُswallows مُرَّthe bitterness of القَضاfate
مَن ذا الَّذي يَجرَعُ مُرَّ القَضا
Who is it that bears the sorrow of love?
Who can bear the agony of passion?
Who is it that swallows the bitterness of fate?
Who can drink the bitter cup of fate?
أَقولُI say مِنout of وَجدٍpassionate longing وَمِنand out of لَوعَةٍburning anguish
أَقولُ مِن وَجدٍ وَمِن لَوعَةٍ
ياoh لَيتَwould that مَنthe one who أَمرَضَنيmade me ill مَرَضاfell ill
يا لَيتَ مَن أَمرَضَني مَرَضا
I say, out of longing and burning anguish:
I cry in anguish and heartache
Oh, would that he who made me ill were ill!
Oh, that he who made me ill might heal me
مَرَّpassed بِبابِby the door of الدارِthe house مُستَهزِئاًmocking
مَرَّ بِبابِ الدارِ مُستَهزِئاً
مُستَخفِياًconcealing himself مُعتَجِراًveiled in a turban مُعرِضاturning away
مُستَخفِياً مُعتَجِراً مُعرِضا
He passed by the door of the house, mocking,
He passed by my abode mocking
Concealing himself, veiled in a turban, turning away.
Frivolous, veiled, turning away
ماnot ضَرَّنيharmed me تَعجيرُهُhis veiling with a turban إِنَّماit was only
ما ضَرَّني تَعجيرُهُ إِنَّما
أَضَرَّharmed بيme مِنbecause of كَونِهِhis being أَعرَضاhe turned away
أَضَرَّ بي مِن كَونِهِ أَعرَضا
His veiling did not hurt me; it was only
His veil did not hurt me, rather
His turning away that hurt me.
His turning away did me harm
Sol 6.1