سَبَرْتُI probed نِهَايَةَthe utmost extent of الإِخْلاصِdevotion خُوْفاًout of fear
سَبَرْتُ نِهَايَةَ الإِخْلاصِ خُوْفاً
عَلَىfor ابْنِthe son of جَمِيلٍJamil زَيْنِthe ornament of الشَّبَابِyouth
عَلَى ابْنِ جَمِيلٍ زَيْنِ الشَّبَابِ
I have sounded devotion to its furthest depth, in fear
I probed the furthest reach of devotion, fearing
For Ibn Jamil, the adornment of youth—
For Ibn Jamil, the ornament of youth,
أَخِيbrother to العُرْفَانِknowledge وَالأَدَبِand literature الْمُذَكِّيenlivening
أَخِي العُرْفَانِ وَالأَدَبِ الْمُذَكِّي
فَتَىthe youth of الفِتْيَانِthe youths بِالْخُلُقِwith character العُجَابِwondrous
فَتَى الفِتْيَانِ بِالْخُلُقِ العُجَابِ
My brother in insight and mind-quickening literature,
A brother to knowledge and enlivening letters,
Foremost among young men in wondrous character;
The youth of youths, with wondrous character,
مُجِيدُmaster of النَّثْرِprose نَقَّادُdiscerning critic of الْقَوَافِيrhymes
مُجِيدُ النَّثْرِ نَقَّادُ الْقَوَافِي
سَدِيدُsound in الْفِكْرِthought رُوَّادُpioneers of الْصَّوَابِwhat is right
سَدِيدُ الْفِكْرِ رُوَّادُ الْصَّوَابِ
A master of prose, a discerning critic of rhymes,
A master of prose, a discerning critic of rhymes,
Sound in thought, ever seeking what is right.
Sound in thought, a pioneer of what is right.
شَفَاهُmay He heal him اللهُGod أَوْor يَقْضِيHe decrees قَضَاءًa decree
شَفَاهُ اللهُ أَوْ يَقْضِي قَضَاءً
لإِحْيَاءِto give life to الْقُشُورِthe husks عَلَىat the expense of اللُّبَابِthe kernels
لإِحْيَاءِ الْقُشُورِ عَلَى اللُّبَابِ
May God heal him—or else pass a decree
May God heal him—or will He issue a decree
That keeps the husks alive at the kernels’ expense.
To give life to the husks at the kernels' expense?
أَلاَAh يَاO رَبُّLord إِعْفspare الشَّرْقَthe East مِمَّاfrom what
أَلاَ يَا رَبُّ إِعْف الشَّرْقَ مِمَّا
بِهِthrough it جَدَّgrew grave الْوَعِيدُthe threat مِنَof الْمُصَابcalamity
بِهِ جَدَّ الْوَعِيدُ مِنَ الْمُصَاب
O Lord, spare the East from that by which
Ah, O Lord, spare the East from what
The threat of calamity has grown dire.
Has made the threat of calamity so grave.
فَكَمْfor how much ياO رَبُّLord فِيهِin it مِنْof نُبُوغٍgenius
فَكَمْ يا رَبُّ فِيهِ مِنْ نُبُوغٍ
فَتُخْتَرَمُyet is cut down النُّبُوغَgenius بِلاwithout حِسَابِreckoning
فَتُخْتَرَمُ النُّبُوغَ بِلا حِسَابِ
How much genius there is in it, O Lord—
For how much genius, O Lord, it holds—
Yet calamity cuts genius down without reckoning.
Yet genius is cut down without reckoning!
Sol 6.1