رَوَّعَتْنِيappalled me ذِكْرَىthe thought of الخَسَارَةِthe loss لَمَّاwhen
رَوَّعَتْنِي ذِكْرَى الخَسَارَةِ لَمَّا
نَبَّأُونِيthey informed me بِهَاof it فَبُتُّso I spent the night حَزِينَاgrieving
نَبَّأُونِي بِهَا فَبُتُّ حَزِينَا
The thought of the loss appalled me when
They told me of it, and I spent the night grieving.
فَقَدْthe loss of أَلْفٍa thousand وَنِصْفِand half of أَلفٍa thousand نِضَاراًin gold
فَقَدْ أَلْفٍ وَنِصْفِ أَلفٍ نِضَاراً
جَلَّwas too grave بَيْنَamong الخُطُوبِthe calamities عَنْbeyond أَنْto يَهُونَاbe slight
جَلَّ بَيْنَ الخُطُوبِ عَنْ أَنْ يَهُونَا
The loss of a thousand and half a thousand in gold
Was too grave among calamities to be taken lightly.
كَانَwas حَقَّthe duty of الزَّمَانِTime إِعْطَاءَكَto give you الآلافِthousands
كَانَ حَقَّ الزَّمَانِ إِعْطَاءَكَ الآلافِ
لاnot الأَخْذِtaking مِنْكَfrom you شَلَّmay it be paralyzed يَمِينَاin the right hand
لا الأَخْذِ مِنْكَ شَلَّ يَمِينَا
Time ought to have given you thousands,
Not taken from you—may its right hand be paralyzed!
أَوْor لَسْتَare you not الَّذِيthe one who لَهُhe has كُلَّevery يَوْمٍday
أَوْ لَسْتَ الَّذِي لَهُ كُلَّ يَوْمٍ
حَسَنَاتٌgood deeds نَعُدُّهَاwe count them بِالمِئِينَاby the hundreds
حَسَنَاتٌ نَعُدُّهَا بِالمِئِينَا
Or are you not the one who has, each day,
Good deeds we count by the hundreds?
أَوْor لَسْتَare you not الَّذِيthe one who عَلَىdespite غَدَرَاتِthe betrayals of الصَّحْبِthe companions
أَوْ لَسْتَ الَّذِي عَلَى غَدَرَاتِ الصَّحْبِ
يَبْقَىremains الأخَthe brother الأَمِينَاthe faithful
يَبْقَى الأخَ الأَمِينَا
Or are you not the one who, despite companions’ betrayals,
Remains the faithful brother?
إِنَّمَاonly الدَّهْرُTime حَرْبُthe enemy of كُلِّevery كَرِيمٍgenerous person
إِنَّمَا الدَّهْرُ حَرْبُ كُلِّ كَرِيمٍ
وَنَبِيلٍand noble person فَمَاfor it never يَزَالُceases to be خَؤُونَاutterly treacherous
وَنَبِيلٍ فَمَا يَزَالُ خَؤُونَا
Time is but the foe of every generous soul
And every noble one, for it is ever treacherous.
Sol 6.1