ماnot فَتَّحَopened النَورُthe blossoms إِلّاexcept أَشرَقَshone النورُthe light
ما فَتَّحَ النَورُ إِلّا أَشرَقَ النورُ
فَماso what اِشتِغالُكَyour preoccupation وَالمَنثورُand the stock flowers مَنثورُscattered
فَما اِشتِغالُكَ وَالمَنثورُ مَنثورُ
Whenever the blossoms opened, the light shone.
Whenever light has opened, light has shone bright
So what keeps you occupied, with the stock flowers strewn about?
So why are you so busy while prose is scattered about?
وَلِلرَبيعِand for spring رُبوعٌhaunts كُلَّماwhenever ضَحِكَتthey laughed
وَلِلرَبيعِ رُبوعٌ كُلَّما ضَحِكَت
بَكىwept عَلىover نَشَواتِraptures الخَمرِwine مَخمورُa drunken man
بَكى عَلى نَشَواتِ الخَمرِ مَخمورُ
And spring has haunts that, whenever they laugh,
And for spring there are meadows, whenever it smiles
A drunken man weeps over wine's raptures.
The drunk weeps for the joys of wine.
أَماas for دِمَشقُDamascus فَجَنّاتٌthen gardens of Paradise مُعَجَّلَةٌgranted in advance
أَما دِمَشقُ فَجَنّاتٌ مُعَجَّلَةٌ
لِلطالِبينَfor seekers بِهاin it الوِلدانُthe youths وَالحورُand the houris
لِلطالِبينَ بِها الوِلدانُ وَالحورُ
As for Damascus, it is gardens of Paradise granted in advance;
As for Damascus, it has gardens brought forth quickly
For seekers, within it are youths and houris.
For those who seek the youths and maidens there.
ماnot صاحَsang out فيهاin it عَلىto أَوتارِهِhis strings قَمَرٌa moon
ما صاحَ فيها عَلى أَوتارِهِ قَمَرٌ
إِلّاexcept وَغَنّاهُand sang to him قُمَرِيٌّa turtledove وَشَحرورُand a blackbird
إِلّا وَغَنّاهُ قُمَرِيٌّ وَشَحرورُ
No moon sang there to his strings
No moon has sung on its strings there
Without a turtledove and a blackbird singing to him.
Except a moonlike one and Shahrur has sung it.
ياoh حَبَّذاhow lovely وَدُروعُand coats of mail الماءِthe water تَنسُجُهاweaves them
يا حَبَّذا وَدُروعُ الماءِ تَنسُجُها
أَنامِلُfingertips الريحِthe wind لَولاwere it not for أَنَهاtheir being زورُa sham
أَنامِلُ الريحِ لَولا أَنَها زورُ
Oh, how lovely, as the water's coats of mail are woven
Oh how wonderful, the shields of water woven
By the wind's fingertips—if only they were not a sham!
By the fingers of wind, if only they were not false.
وَيحُwoe to اللَوائِمِthe reproachful women فيover لَونِthe color of اللَمىthe lips' duskiness حَسَداًout of envy
وَيحُ اللَوائِمِ في لَونِ اللَمى حَسَداً
حَتّىuntil مَتىwhen أَناI مَحسودٌenvied وَمهجورُand forsaken
حَتّى مَتى أَنا مَحسودٌ وَمهجورُ
Woe to the women who reproach me over the lips' dusky hue, out of envy!
The blamers envy the color of radiance out of spite
How long am I to be envied and forsaken?
How long will I be envied and abandoned?
هُمthey عارَضونيthey opposed me عَلىfor حُبّيmy love لِعارِضِهِfor his cheek-down
هُم عارَضوني عَلى حُبّي لِعارِضِهِ
وَمَنand whoever أَحَبَّloves عِذاراًcheek-down فَهوَthen he is مَعذورُexcused
وَمَن أَحَبَّ عِذاراً فَهوَ مَعذورُ
They opposed me for my love of the down on his cheek;
They turned me away from loving the one who turned away
And whoever loves cheek-down is excused.
And whoever loves gently, he is excused.
Sol 6.1