نحنُwe فيin جَنّةٍa garden نُباكِرُwe go early to منهاfrom it
نحنُ في جَنّةٍ نُباكِرُ منها
ساحِلَيْthe two banks of جَدْوَلٍa brook كسَيفٍlike a sword مُجَرّدunsheathed
ساحِلَيْ جَدْوَلٍ كسَيفٍ مُجَرّد
We are in a garden; from it we go at dawn
In a garden we dwell, whose streams we sip
to the two banks of a brook like an unsheathed sword.
Along banks like a burnished sword's slip.
صَقَلَتْpolished مَتْنَهُits broad surface مداوسُburnishing files شمسٍthe sun
صَقَلَتْ مَتْنَهُ مداوسُ شمسٍ
مِنfrom خِلالِthe spaces between الغُصونِthe branches صَقلاًa polishing مُجدَّدrenewed
مِن خِلالِ الغُصونِ صَقلاً مُجدَّد
The sun’s files have polished its broad blade
The sun has honed its blade through leaves' grip,
through the branches, burnishing it anew.
Renewing its slick and polished equip.
ومُدامٍand wine تطيرُflutters فيin الصحنِthe bowl سُكراًin drunkenness
ومُدامٍ تطيرُ في الصحنِ سُكراً
فتُحَلّso are unstrung العقُودُthe necklaces منهاof it وتعقدand are strung
فتُحَلّ العقُودُ منها وتعقد
And wine flutters drunkenly in the bowl,
Wine circles the bowl, sweetness takes grip,
so its necklaces are unstrung and strung again.
Loosing some knots, while others re-knit.
جِسمُهاits body بالبَقاءِthrough remaining فيin الدنِّthe wine jar يَبلىwastes away
جِسمُها بالبَقاءِ في الدنِّ يَبلى
وقُواهاand its powers معwith اللّياليthe nights تَجَدّدare renewed
وقُواها مع اللّيالي تَجَدّد
Its body wastes away with long keeping in the jar,
Its being in this low world brings decay,
but its powers are renewed as the nights pass.
Its strength with nights ever re-equipped.
وإذاand when الماءُthe water غاصَdived فيinto النّارِthe fire منهاof it
وإذا الماءُ غاصَ في النّارِ منها
أخرجَbrought forth الدُّرَّpearls منof حبابٍbubbles مُنَضَّدneatly arrayed
أخرجَ الدُّرَّ من حبابٍ مُنَضَّد
And when water dives into its fire,
When water plunges through fire's angry lip,
it brings forth pearls of neatly arrayed bubbles.
It brings forth pearls in a matrix well-stripped.
ياoh لهاfor it (in admiration) منof عصيرِjuice أوّلِthe first كَرمٍvineyard
يا لها من عصيرِ أوّلِ كَرمٍ
سَكِرgrew drunk الدّنُّthe wine jar منهon it قِدَماًlong ago وعَربَدand ran riot
سَكِر الدّنُّ منه قِدَماً وعَربَد
Oh, what juice of the first vineyard!
Oh, the first vine's juice - what a draught!
The jar grew drunk on it long ago and ran riot.
The world drinks till feet fail and hands lose grip.
جنّةٌa garden مَجّتِpoured forth الحَياthe rain إِذwhen سَقاهاwatered it
جنّةٌ مَجّتِ الحَيا إِذ سَقاها
مُصْلِحٌbeneficent منfrom غَمَامِهِits clouds غيرُnot مُفسِدdestructive
مُصْلِحٌ من غَمَامِهِ غيرُ مُفسِد
A garden that poured forth rain when watered
The garden revives when watered true
by a beneficent shower from its clouds, not a destructive one.
By a mender of clouds, no harm accrued.
قَدindeed لَبِسناwe donned غلائلَgauzy robes الظِلّthe shade فيهاin it
قَد لَبِسنا غلائلَ الظِلّ فيها
مُعْلَماتٍembroidered منَfrom الشعاعِthe rays بِعَسجَدwith gold
مُعْلَماتٍ منَ الشعاعِ بِعَسجَد
We have donned within it the gauzy robes of shade,
We wore the shade's robes, markings eschewed,
embroidered with gold from the sunbeams.
Rays stitched like embroidery subdued.
ورَأَيناand we saw نارِنجَهاits bitter oranges فيamong غُصونٍbranches
ورَأَينا نارِنجَها في غُصونٍ
هَزّتِshook الرّيحُthe wind خُضْرَهاtheir green boughs فهيَso they are مُيّدswaying
هَزّتِ الرّيحُ خُضْرَها فهيَ مُيّد
And we saw its bitter oranges among branches—
Saw oranges on branches wind blew,
the wind shook their green boughs, and they swayed—
Tousling green, the fruits nod and exude
كَكُراتٍlike balls مُحْمَرّةٍreddened منof عَقيقٍcarnelian
كَكُراتٍ مُحْمَرّةٍ من عَقيقٍ
تَدَّريهاdrive them صوالِجٌpolo mallets منof زَبَرجَدchrysolite
تَدَّريها صوالِجٌ من زَبَرجَد
like crimson balls of carnelian
Ruby globes on threads of agate hued,
driven by polo mallets of chrysolite.
Cascading garlands of aquamarine renewed.
وَكَأنّand as though الأَنوارَthe blossoms فيهاin it ذُبَالٌwicks
وَكَأنّ الأَنوارَ فيها ذُبَالٌ
بِسَليطٍwith oil منَof النّدىthe dew تَتَوَقّدburn brightly
بِسَليطٍ منَ النّدى تَتَوَقّد
And the blossoms there seem like wicks,
The lights seem wicks new-wicked, imbued
burning with oil made of dew.
With oil of dew, flickering exude.
وكأنّand as though النّسيمَthe breeze بالفرجthrough the openings يُفْشِيreveals
وكأنّ النّسيمَ بالفرج يُفْشِي
بينَamong رَوضَاتِهاits garden plots سرائرَsecrets خُرّدshy maidens
بينَ رَوضَاتِها سرائرَ خُرّد
And it is as though the breeze, through the openings, reveals
The breeze seems to spread through the leas
among its garden plots the secrets of shy maidens.
Whispered secrets of shrubs sub-accrued.
حَيثُwhere نُسْقَىwe are given drink مِنَof السُرورِjoy كُؤوساًcups
حَيثُ نُسْقَى مِنَ السُرورِ كُؤوساً
ونُغَنّىand we are sung to منَby الطُيورِthe birds ونُنْشَدand we are chanted to
ونُغَنّى منَ الطُيورِ ونُنْشَد
Where we are given cups of joy to drink,
Where we're served joy's cups and voices imbrued,
and the birds sing and recite to us.
Trilled notes or moans our ears accrued -
ذوone with صفيرٍa whistle مُرجَّعtrilled أوor هديلٌcooing
ذو صفيرٍ مُرجَّع أو هديلٌ
أسَمِعْتُمhave you heard? عنِof الغَريضِal-Gharid ومَعْبَدand Maʿbad
أسَمِعْتُم عنِ الغَريضِ ومَعْبَد
One with a trilling whistle, or one that coos—
Chirps you've heard of sparrow, lark, cuckoo?
have you heard of al-Gharid and Maʿbad?
Songs of nightingale, hoopoe, wild brood.
شادِياتٍsinging birds تُمسيenter evening الغُصونُthe branches وتُضحيand enter morning
شادِياتٍ تُمسي الغُصونُ وتُضحي
رُكّعاًbowing للصَّبَاto the east wind بِهِنَّwith them وسَجّدand prostrate
رُكّعاً للصَّبَا بِهِنَّ وسَجّد
Singing birds—the branches, at evening and morning,
Warblers greeting the branches, bowed to
bow to the east wind, bearing them, and fall prostrate.
Dawn's zephyrs, prostrate in worship renewed.
كانwas ذاthis والزمانُand time سَمْحُgenerous السجَاياthe character traits
كان ذا والزمانُ سَمْحُ السجَايا
بِبَوادٍwith first arrivals منَof الأَمانيhopes وعُوّدand returning ones
بِبَوادٍ منَ الأَماني وعُوّد
Such was it, when Time was generous in nature,
Such were we, and time of manners more crude,
with hopes newly arriving and returning again,
With dreams in wilds, friendship's fibers extruded.
والصِّباand youth فيin مَعاطِفيmy limbs وكَأنِّيand as though I were
والصِّبا في مَعاطِفي وكَأنِّي
غُصُنٌa branch فيin يدِthe hand of الصَّباthe east wind يَتَأَوَّدbends
غُصُنٌ في يدِ الصَّبا يَتَأَوَّد
and youth was in my limbs, and I was like
My youth in my cloak, as if I'm the shoot
a branch bending in the east wind’s hand.
In wind's hand, bending as zephyrs intrude.
Sol 6.1