تجاورنيyou dwell beside me وَتَنفُرand you shy away فيin نَداكاyour call
تجاورني وَتَنفُر في نَداكا
وَتَهرُبُand you flee إِنif دَنَوتُI draw near إِلىto لُقاكاmeeting you
وَتَهرُبُ إِن دَنَوتُ إِلى لُقاكا
You dwell beside me, yet shy away as you call,
You draw near to me and yet recoil at your call
and flee if I draw near to meet you.
And flee if I approach to meet you
تَبَربرyou babble أَعجَميّاًin a foreign tongue لَستُI do not أَدريunderstand
تَبَربر أَعجَميّاً لَستُ أَدري
كَلامَكَyour speech حَيثُsince أَزعَجَنيdistressed me بُكاكاyour weeping
كَلامَكَ حَيثُ أَزعَجَني بُكاكا
You babble in a foreign tongue; I do not understand
You babble unintelligibly, though I do not know
your speech, for your weeping has distressed me.
What you say when your weeping troubles me
فَوَيحَكَso, alas for you ياO غُرابُcrow البَينُof parting ماذاwhat
فَوَيحَكَ يا غُرابُ البَينُ ماذا
وَراءَكَbehind you أَيُّwhat شَيءٍthing قَدindeed عَراكاhas befallen you
وَراءَكَ أَيُّ شَيءٍ قَد عَراكا
Alas for you, O crow of parting! What
Woe to you, O raven of separation! What is
lies behind you? What has befallen you?
Behind you that has befallen you?
تَقَرَّبُyou bring near فيin نَعيّكَyour death-tidings مُشكِلاتٍperplexities
تَقَرَّبُ في نَعيّكَ مُشكِلاتٍ
وَتُبعِدُهاand you push them away إِذاwhen رُمتI seek الفَكاكاrelease
وَتُبعِدُها إِذا رُمت الفَكاكا
You bring perplexities close in your death-tidings,
You mention troubles in your elegy
and push them far away when I seek release.
And dismiss them when I seek release
وَتَطلُبand you seek فيin جِوارthe vicinity of النيلthe Nile دَمعيmy tears
وَتَطلُب في جِوار النيل دَمعي
كانَّas though الفَيضthe flood لَمnot يَكفِsuffice إِرتواكاyour drinking your fill
كانَّ الفَيض لَم يَكفِ إِرتواكا
And beside the Nile you seek my tears,
You ask for my tears by the Nile
as though the flood had not quenched your thirst.
As if its flooding were not enough to water you
تُشيرُyou point إِلىtoward الشَمالthe north عَلىin إِضطِرابٍagitation
تُشيرُ إِلى الشَمال عَلى إِضطِرابٍ
فَيَظلُمso grows dark بيaround me الجُنوبُthe south لَدىat نِداكاyour call
فَيَظلُم بي الجُنوبُ لَدى نِداكا
You point northward in agitation,
You gesture northward in agitation
so the south grows dark around me at your call.
So the south grows dark for me at your call
لَقَدindeed أَبطَأتَyou have been slow وَيحَكَalas for you مُستَطيراًin flight
لَقَد أَبطَأتَ وَيحَكَ مُستَطيراً
تُخبِرُنيyou tell me بِطارِقَةٍof a calamity وَراكاbehind you
تُخبِرُني بِطارِقَةٍ وَراكا
You have indeed been slow, alas, in flight,
You have tarried, woe to you, wandering,
telling me of a calamity behind you.
To tell me of lightning flashes and thunder
وَنَحنُand we البَرقُlightning يَخدمناserves us بِعَصرٍin an age
وَنَحنُ البَرقُ يَخدمنا بِعَصرٍ
بِهِin it قَدindeed صارَhas become يُضحِكُناmakes us laugh سَراكاyour night journey
بِهِ قَد صارَ يُضحِكُنا سَراكا
And we have lightning to serve us in an age
Yet we are the lightning, served in our time
when your night journey has come to make us laugh.
By which your jesting now makes us laugh
جَعَلتَyou have made الاَزبَكيةal-Azbakiyya فيin عُيونيmy eyes
جَعَلتَ الاَزبَكية في عُيوني
كَسجنٍlike a prison لاnot أُطيقُI can bear بِهِin it الحِراكاmovement
كَسجنٍ لا أُطيقُ بِهِ الحِراكا
You have made al-Azbakiyya, in my eyes,
You have made the branches in my eyes
like a prison where I cannot bear to move.
A prison I cannot bear to stir in
كَأَنَّas though غُصونَهاits branches لَيلٌa night بَهيمٌpitch-black
كَأَنَّ غُصونَها لَيلٌ بَهيمٌ
تَغَشانيit shrouded me فَحَيَرنيand so bewildered me إِرتِباكاin confusion
تَغَشاني فَحَيَرني إِرتِباكا
As though its branches were a pitch-black night
As if their branches were a brutal night
that shrouded me and plunged me into confusion.
Enshrouding and bewildering me
وَعَهديand my recollection بِاليَمامَةِof the dove فيin حِماهاits sanctuary
وَعَهدي بِاليَمامَةِ في حِماها
تُغازِلُنيshe woos me عَلىin أَمنٍsafety عِداكاexcept for you
تُغازِلُني عَلى أَمنٍ عِداكا
And I remember the dove within its sanctuary,
While my pact with the turtledove protected me
wooing me in safety, save for you.
Flirting with me in your despite
فَقُمتَso you stood مَكانَهاin her place أَشقىthe most wretched بَديلٍsubstitute
فَقُمتَ مَكانَها أَشقى بَديلٍ
وَأَخبَثand the foulest صاحِبٍcompanion عَثَرتmay stumble خُطاكاyour steps
وَأَخبَث صاحِبٍ عَثَرت خُطاكا
So you took her place, the most wretched substitute,
Yet you took her place, most wretched substitute,
and the foulest companion—may your steps stumble!
Most wicked companion, stumbling in your step
تُشيرُyou point إِلىto اليَمامةthe dove وَهِيَwhile she is صَرعىslain
تُشيرُ إِلى اليَمامة وَهِيَ صَرعى
بمخلبby the talon of خاطِفٍa predator نَصبَset الشِراكاthe snares
بمخلب خاطِفٍ نَصبَ الشِراكا
You point to the dove, lying slain
You point to the turtledove, though she lies slain
by the talon of a predator who set the snares.
By the talon of a swooping foe who set his trap
مُصابٌa calamity قَدindeed أَطارَput to flight الرُشدَreason حُزناًwith grief
مُصابٌ قَد أَطارَ الرُشدَ حُزناً
فَكانَand so it was أَشَدَّmore severe بُؤساًin misery مِنthan بُكاكاyour weeping
فَكانَ أَشَدَّ بُؤساً مِن بُكاكا
A calamity that put reason to flight with grief,
Wounded, her reason took flight in grief
and proved more grievous than your weeping.
More wretched than your weeping
إِلاAh ياO أَيُّهاyou الرَجُلُthe man المَعنّىtormented
إِلا يا أَيُّها الرَجُلُ المَعنّى
أَذابَmelted قُلوبَناour hearts سَهمٌan arrow رَماكاstruck you
أَذابَ قُلوبَنا سَهمٌ رَماكا
Ah, O tormented man,
Unless, O man of purpose, an arrow from you
an arrow that struck you has melted our hearts.
Melted our hearts when you took aim
فَماfor ... not أَناI ياO سَليمُSalim سَليمُsound عَقلٍof mind
فَما أَنا يا سَليمُ سَليمُ عَقلٍ
إِذاwhen شَخصتُI picture هَولاًa horror قَدindeed دَهاكاhas befallen you
إِذا شَخصتُ هَولاً قَد دَهاكا
For I am not, O Salim, sound of mind
So I am not, O Suleiman, sound of mind
when I picture the horror that has befallen you.
When I stand awestruck at what you have unleashed
غَريبٌa stranger قَدindeed جَنَنتَyou have gone mad عَلىover غَريبٍa stranger
غَريبٌ قَد جَنَنتَ عَلى غَريبٍ
بِدارٍin a land قَدindeed حَرَمتَyou were deprived of بِهاin it صَفاكاyour serenity
بِدارٍ قَد حَرَمتَ بِها صَفاكا
A stranger, you have gone mad with grief for a stranger,
A stranger, you have maddened a stranger
in a land where you have been deprived of your serenity.
In a house from which you have deprived yourself of clarity
سَطاassailed فَجَنىand did wrong عَلَيكَagainst you الآنnow دَهرٌTime
سَطا فَجَنى عَلَيكَ الآن دَهرٌ
مَضىwent away بِأَعَزwith the dearest شَيءٍthing مِنof جِناكاyour harvest
مَضى بِأَعَز شَيءٍ مِن جِناكا
Time has now assailed and wronged you,
Fate has now turned on you, though long you rode high
carrying off the dearest fruit of your harvest.
Taking the most precious thing from your riches
مَضىwent away غَدراًtreacherously بِوَردِwith the rose of صِباكَyour youth يَخفيhiding
مَضى غَدراً بِوَردِ صِباكَ يَخفي
حَبيبتكَyour beloved الَّتيwho سَلَبَتstole نُهاكاyour reason
حَبيبتكَ الَّتي سَلَبَت نُهاكا
Treacherously it bore away the rose of your youth, hiding
It fled perfidiously with the rose of your youth
your beloved, who had stolen your reason.
Concealing the beloved who stole your passion
وَكانَتand she was وَردَةًa rose مِنfrom غَيرwithout شَوكٍthorns
وَكانَت وَردَةً مِن غَير شَوكٍ
فَكانَso were الشَوكthe thorns حُزناًgrief فيin حَشاكاyour breast
فَكانَ الشَوك حُزناً في حَشاكا
And she was a rose without thorns,
She was a rose without thorns
so the thorns were grief within your breast.
Yet thorns became grief in your concerns
مَهاةa female oryx الشامal-Sham أَينwhere دَفنتُموهاyou (plural) buried her
مَهاة الشام أَين دَفنتُموها
بِأَرضin the land of الروسthe Russians لاnot تَجدshe finds اِنفِكاكاrelease
بِأَرض الروس لا تَجد اِنفِكاكا
The oryx of al-Sham—where have you buried her?
Maha of Damascus, where have you buried her
In the land of the Russians, she finds no release.
In the land of the Russians, with no release?
أَرىI see لُبنانLebanon يَدعوهاcalling her مُشَوِقاًstirring longing
أَرى لُبنان يَدعوها مُشَوِقاً
لِوادٍfor a valley فيin حِماهُits sanctuary بِهِin it حِماكاyour sanctuary
لِوادٍ في حِماهُ بِهِ حِماكا
I see Lebanon calling her, stirring longing
I see Lebanon calling to her longingly
for a valley in its sanctuary, where your sanctuary lies.
For a valley in Hama where she was protected
وَلَكنbut لاno رجاءَhope وَلاand no مُجيبٌone to answer
وَلَكن لا رجاءَ وَلا مُجيبٌ
سِوىexcept رَجعthe return of الصَدىthe echo فَأقصرso lessen عَناكاyour suffering
سِوى رَجع الصَدى فَأقصر عَناكا
But there is no hope and no one to answer
But there is no hope, no answer
save the echo's return; so lessen your suffering.
Except the echo's return, so shorten your wailing
تَجَلدbe steadfast وَاَستَعنand seek help بِاللَهِfrom God تَحييyou will revive
تَجَلد وَاَستَعن بِاللَهِ تَحيي
فُؤاداًa heart كُلall بَغيتهِits desire لُقاكاmeeting you
فُؤاداً كُل بَغيتهِ لُقاكا
Be steadfast and seek God's help; you will revive
Show fortitude and seek God's help to revive
a heart whose only desire is to meet you.
A heart whose only wish was to meet you
وَلاand do not تَسقطfall أَمامbefore الدَهرTime ضُعفاًout of weakness
وَلا تَسقط أَمام الدَهر ضُعفاً
فَإِنَّكَfor you قَدindeed أَطَلتَhave prolonged لَهُagainst it عِراكاa struggle
فَإِنَّكَ قَد أَطَلتَ لَهُ عِراكا
And do not fall before Time out of weakness,
Do not in weakness fall before fate
for you have long kept up your struggle against it.
For with it you have long grappled
فَماfor ... not هَذيthis الحَيوةlife سِوىexcept غَرورٍdelusion بِهِin it
فَما هَذي الحَيوة سِوى غَرورٍ بِهِ
الأَنامhumankind تَختبطflounders اشتِباكاin entanglement
الأَنام تَختبط اشتِباكا
For this life is nothing but delusion, in which
This life is but delusion, in which
humankind flounders, entangled.
Men blunder about, tangled together
فَكُنso be بِالحَقِّto the truth مُعتَصِماًholding fast رَشيداًrightly guided
فَكُن بِالحَقِّ مُعتَصِماً رَشيداً
وَلاand let not يَعلوrise الضَلالُerror عَلىabove ذَكاكاyour intelligence
وَلا يَعلو الضَلالُ عَلى ذَكاكا
So hold fast to the truth and be rightly guided,
So be steadfast in truth and wise guidance
and let not error rise above your intelligence.
Let not misguidance rise above your prudence
Sol 6.1