سَلِّBanish الهُمُومَthe cares لِقَلبٍfor a heart غَيرِnot مَتبُولِravaged by love
سَلِّ الهُمُومَ لِقَلبٍ غَيرِ مَتبُولِ
ولاnor رَهِينٍcaptive لَدَىin the keeping of بَيضَاءَa fair-skinned woman عُطبُولِbeautiful and long-necked
ولا رَهِينٍ لَدَى بَيضَاءَ عُطبُولِ
Banish cares from a heart not ravaged by love,
nor captive to a fair-skinned, long-necked beauty.
وَلاَand do not تَقِفstand بِدِيَارِat the dwellings of الحَيِّthe clan تَسألُهاquestioning them
وَلاَ تَقِف بِدِيَارِ الحَيِّ تَسألُها
تَبكِيweeping over مَعَارِفَهاtheir familiar traces ضَلاًّastray بِتَضليلِin delusion
تَبكِي مَعَارِفَها ضَلاًّ بِتَضليلِ
And do not stand at the clan's dwellings, questioning them,
weeping over their familiar traces, lost in delusion.
مَاwhat أنتَyou وَالدَارَwith the dwelling إِذnow that صَارَتhave become مَعَارِفَهاits familiar traces
مَا أنتَ وَالدَارَ إِذ صَارَت مَعَارِفَها
لِلرِيحِfor the wind مَلعَبَةًa playground ذاتِpossessing الغَرَابِيلِsieves
لِلرِيحِ مَلعَبَةً ذاتِ الغَرَابِيلِ
What have you to do with the dwelling, now that its familiar traces have become
a playground for the sieve-bearing wind?
تُسدِيlay the warp of الرِّيَاحُthe winds بِهَاin it نَسجَاًa fabric وَتُلحِمُهُand weave its weft
تُسدِي الرِّيَاحُ بِهَا نَسجَاً وَتُلحِمُهُ
ذَيلَينِtwo trailing skirts منfrom مُعصِفٍa raging wind مِنهَاamong them وَمَشمُولِand a northerly one
ذَيلَينِ من مُعصِفٍ مِنهَا وَمَشمُولِ
The winds lay a fabric's warp there and weave its weft—
two trailing skirts, from a raging wind among them and a northerly one.
نَفسِيmy soul فِدَاءٌa ransom for رَسُولِthe Messenger of اللهِGod قِلُّa trifle لَهُfor him
نَفسِي فِدَاءٌ رَسُولِ اللهِ قِلُّ لَهُ
مِنّيfrom me وَمِنand from بَعدِهِمafter them أدنَىnearer لِتَقلِيلِto being deemed little
مِنّي وَمِن بَعدِهِم أدنَى لِتَقلِيلِ
My soul, a ransom for God's Messenger, is a trifle to him
from me; and after them, nearer still to being deemed little.
نَفسِيmy soul فِدَاءُa ransom for الذيthe one who لاnot الغَدرُtreachery شِيمَتُهhis nature
نَفسِي فِدَاءُ الذي لا الغَدرُ شِيمَتُه
ولاnor المَعَاذِيرُexcuses منfrom بُخلٍstinginess وَتَقلِيلُand giving little
ولا المَعَاذِيرُ من بُخلٍ وَتَقلِيلُ
My soul is ransom for him whose nature is not treachery,
nor excuses born of stinginess, nor meager giving;
الحَازِمُfirm الرَأيin judgment والمَيمُونُand auspicious طَائِرُهُhis omen
الحَازِمُ الرَأي والمَيمُونُ طَائِرُهُ
والمُستَضَاءُand one sought for illumination بِهِthrough him والصَّادِقُand truthful القِيلُin speech
والمُستَضَاءُ بِهِ والصَّادِقُ القِيلُ
firm in judgment, and auspicious in his omen,
and one whose light is sought, and truthful in speech.
Sol 6.1