عيلَwas exhausted العَزاءُfortitude وَخانَنيand betrayed me صَبريmy patience
عيلَ العَزاءُ وَخانَني صَبري
لَمّاwhen نَعىannounced the death of الناعيthe herald of death أَباAbu (father of) بَكرِBakr
لَمّا نَعى الناعي أَبا بَكرِ
My fortitude was spent, and my patience betrayed me
Grief overcame me and my patience failed me,
When the herald announced the death of Abu Bakr.
When the mourner announced the death of Abu Bakr,
وَرَأَيتُand I saw رَيبَthe vicissitudes of الدَّهرِtime أَفرَدَنيleft me bereft
وَرَأَيتُ رَيبَ الدَّهرِ أَفرَدَني
مِنهُof him وَأَسلَمَand surrendered لِلعِداto the enemies ظَهريmy back
مِنهُ وَأَسلَمَ لِلعِدا ظَهري
And I saw time's vicissitudes leave me bereft
And I saw the vicissitudes of time left me alone,
Of him, and expose my back to foes—
Abandoning me to my enemies' backs.
مِنof طَيِّبِpure in الأَثوابِrobes مُقتَبِلٍin his youthful prime
مِن طَيِّبِ الأَثوابِ مُقتَبِلٍ
حُلوِsweet in الشَّمائِلِmanners ماجِدٍnoble غَمرِlavishly generous
حُلوِ الشَّمائِلِ ماجِدٍ غَمرِ
Of one pure of robes, in the prime of youth,
In fine garments, of sweet appearance, glorious,
Sweet in manner, noble, lavishly generous.
He passed away to his destination, overtaken
فَمَضىso he departed لِوجهَتِهِto his destination وَأَدركهُand overtook him
فَمَضى لِوجهَتِهِ وَأَدركهُ
قَدَرٌa fate أُتيحَwas allotted لَهُto him مِنَfrom القَدرِdestiny
قَدَرٌ أُتيحَ لَهُ مِنَ القَدرِ
So he went his way, and was overtaken
By a predetermined fate granted to him,
By a fate allotted to him by destiny.
And I was left with only sorrow and a burning chest,
وَغَبَرتُand I remained ماليI have nothing مِنfrom تَذَكُّرِهِremembering him
وَغَبَرتُ مالي مِن تَذَكُّرِهِ
إِلّاexcept الأَسىsorrow وَحَرارَةُand the burning of الصَّدرِthe breast
إِلّا الأَسى وَحَرارَةُ الصَّدرِ
And I remained, with nothing from remembering him
Yearning keeps returning to me, though little
But sorrow and the burning in my breast,
Yearning and praise remain in me for him,
وَجَوىًand burning grief يُعاوِدُنيreturns to me وَقَلَّand is too little لَهُfor him
وَجَوىً يُعاوِدُني وَقَلَّ لَهُ
مِنّيfrom me الجَوىburning grief وَمَحاسِنُand the praises of الذِّكرِremembrance
مِنّي الجَوى وَمَحاسِنُ الذِّكرِ
And anguish that returns to me; yet too little for him
When men's hands cast him down,
Are my anguish and the praise of his memory.
Into the depths of a dusty grave.
لَمّاwhen هَوَتdescended أَيديthe hands of الرِّجالmen بِهِwith him
لَمّا هَوَت أَيدي الرِّجال بِهِ
فيinto قَعرِthe bottom of ذاتِone with جَوانِبٍsides غُبرِdust-grey
في قَعرِ ذاتِ جَوانِبٍ غُبرِ
When the hands of men lowered him
I knew I would never see him again
Into the depths of a pit with dust-grey sides,
Among people until the Gathering Day,
وَعَلِمتُand I knew أَنّيthat I لَنwould not أُلاقِيَهُmeet him
وَعَلِمتُ أَنّي لَن أُلاقِيَهُ
فيamong الناسِpeople حَتّىuntil مُلتَقىthe meeting at الحَشرِthe Resurrection gathering
في الناسِ حَتّى مُلتَقى الحَشرِ
And I knew that I would not meet him
I nearly died from being parted from him, though
Among men until the gathering at Resurrection,
My soul did no wrong at the verge of his grave.
كادَتalmost لِفُرقَتِهِat parting from him وَماand not ظلمَتacted unjustly
كادَت لِفُرقَتِهِ وَما ظلمَت
نَفسيmy soul تَموتُdies عَلىat شَفاthe edge of القَبرِthe grave
نَفسي تَموتُ عَلى شَفا القَبرِ
So close, at parting from him—and not unjustly—
By the life of the Prophet who on the day
Was my soul to dying at the grave's edge.
Of the Feast of Sacrifice was pinned by stakes of wood!
وَلَعَمرُand by the life of مَنHim who حُبِسَwas kept الهَدِيُّthe sacrificial animals لَهُfor Him
وَلَعَمرُ مَن حُبِسَ الهَدِيُّ لَهُ
بِالأَخشَبَينِat al-Akhshabayn صَبيحَةَon the morning of النَّحرِsacrifice
بِالأَخشَبَينِ صَبيحَةَ النَّحرِ
And by the life of Him for whom the sacrificial beasts were kept
If attaining immortality could save him,
At al-Akhshabayn on the morning of sacrifice:
You would have had no fear of death's vicissitudes.
لَوif كانَwere نَيلُthe attainment of الخُلدِimmortality يُدرِكُهُattains it
لَو كانَ نَيلُ الخُلدِ يُدرِكُهُ
بَشَرٌa mortal بِطيبِthrough the goodness of الخيمcharacter وَالنَّجرِand lineage
بَشَرٌ بِطيبِ الخيم وَالنَّجرِ
If the attainment of immortality were within reach
Excellent is the abode of the shrouded ones when
Of a mortal through good character and lineage,
Drought strikes, and the rain clouds fail.
لغبرتَyou would have lived on لاnot تخشىyou fear المنونdeath ولاnor
لغبرتَ لا تخشى المنون ولا
أودىdid away بِنَفسِكَwith your life حادِثُa calamity of الدَّهرِtime
أودى بِنَفسِكَ حادِثُ الدَّهرِ
You would have lived on, fearing no death, nor
How often I lamented as my eyes
Would a calamity of time have claimed your life.
Poured forth their tears flowing down!
وَلنِعمَand truly excellent is مَأوىa refuge for المُرمَلينَthe destitute إِذاwhen
وَلنِعمَ مَأوى المُرمَلينَ إِذا
قحطواthey suffered drought وَأَخلَفَand failed to come صائِبُthe falling القَطرِrain
قحطوا وَأَخلَفَ صائِبُ القَطرِ
And truly, what a fine refuge you were for the destitute when
Where, which hero will stand by our side
They suffered drought and the falling rain failed!
When matters grow grave?
كَمhow often قُلتُI said آوِنَةًat various times وَقَدand already ذَرَفَتshed tears
كَم قُلتُ آوِنَةً وَقَد ذَرَفَت
عَينيmy eye فَماءُso the water of شُؤونهاits tear ducts يَجريflows
عَيني فَماءُ شُؤونها يَجري
How many times have I said, as tears poured from
To fend off a hostile opponent
My eye, and the water of its tear ducts flowed:
And provide for an impoverished brother?
أَنّىwhere وَأَيُّand what فَتىًyoung man يَكونُcould be لَناfor us
أَنّى وَأَيُّ فَتىً يَكونُ لَنا
شَرواكَyour equal عِندَat تَفاقُمِthe worsening of الأَمرِthe situation
شَرواكَ عِندَ تَفاقُمِ الأَمرِ
Where will we find a young man who can be for us
I know, though I pretend not to feel
Your equal when affairs grow grave,
The burning embers’ heat.
لدِفاعto ward off خَصمٍan adversary ذيhaving مُشاغبَةٍquarrelsomeness
لدِفاع خَصمٍ ذي مُشاغبَةٍ
وَلعائِلٍand for a needy man تَرِبٍdust-poor أَخيa brother to فَقرِpoverty
وَلعائِلٍ تَرِبٍ أَخي فَقرِ
To fend off an adversary bent on strife,
No man can escape death
And aid a needy, dust-poor man, a brother to poverty?
Or shield and hide himself from it.
وَلَقَدand indeed عَلِمتُI know وَإِنand even though ضُمِنتُI was filled with جَوىًburning grief
وَلَقَد عَلِمتُ وَإِن ضُمِنتُ جَوىً
مِمّاfrom what أُجِنُّI hide within كَواهِجlike the blaze of الجَمرِembers
مِمّا أُجِنُّ كَواهِج الجَمرِ
And I know full well—though I am filled with anguish
From what I hide within, like the blaze of embers—
ماthere is no لامرِئٍfor a man دونَagainst المَنِيَّةِdeath منany
ما لامرِئٍ دونَ المَنِيَّةِ من
نَفَقٍa tunnel فَيحرزُهُso it protects him وَلاnor سِترِa covering
نَفَقٍ فَيحرزُهُ وَلا سِترِ
No man has, between himself and death, any
Tunnel to protect him, nor any covering.
Partial English translation: 32 of 36 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1