وَلَيْلَةِand a night أُنْسٍconvivial delight قَصَّرَshortened اللَّهْوُrevelry طُولَهاits length
وَلَيْلَةِ أُنْسٍ قَصَّرَ اللَّهْوُ طُولَها
بِعَذْرَاءَwith a virgin شَابَتْshe grew gray وَهْيَwhile she دُونَbehind حِجَابِa veil
بِعَذْرَاءَ شَابَتْ وَهْيَ دُونَ حِجَابِ
And a night of delight whose length revelry shortened,
A night of intimacy which Allah shortened despite its length
with a virgin grown gray while still behind a veil.
With a maiden who was unveiled without a veil
صَدَعْنَاwe cleaved بِهَاwith her الظَّلْمَاءَthe darkness حَتَّىuntil تَبَلَّجَتْbrightened
صَدَعْنَا بِهَا الظَّلْمَاءَ حَتَّى تَبَلَّجَتْ
ضَبَابَتُهَاits mist مِنْfrom ضَوْئِهَاher light بِشِهَابِwith a flame
ضَبَابَتُهَا مِنْ ضَوْئِهَا بِشِهَابِ
We cleaved the darkness with her, until
We illuminated the darkness with her until it gleamed
its mist brightened with a flame from her light.
Its mist dissipated from her radiance like a shooting star
مُعَتَّقَةٍaged wine كَانَتْshe was ذَخِيرَةَa treasured reserve مَعْشَرٍa people
مُعَتَّقَةٍ كَانَتْ ذَخِيرَةَ مَعْشَرٍ
لأَبْنَائِهِمْfor their sons فِيin جَوْفِthe belly of أَقْتَمَdusky كَابِيdull-hued
لأَبْنَائِهِمْ فِي جَوْفِ أَقْتَمَ كَابِي
Aged wine, once a people's treasured reserve
She was a treasure kept for their sons
for their sons, in the belly of a dusky, dull-hued vessel.
In the belly of the darkest tomb
أَتَتْpassed دُونَهاover her الأَيَّامُthe days حَتَّىuntil تَخَلَّصَتْshe became pure
أَتَتْ دُونَها الأَيَّامُ حَتَّى تَخَلَّصَتْ
فَلَمْso did not يَبْقَremain مِنهاof her الْيَومَtoday غَيْرُother than لُبَابِthe essence
فَلَمْ يَبْقَ مِنها الْيَومَ غَيْرُ لُبَابِ
The days passed over her until she grew pure,
The days passed her by until she was freed
so today nothing of her remains but the essence.
And today, nothing remains of her but her essence
إِذَاwhen اتَّقَدَتْshe blazed فيin الْكَأْسِthe cup خِلْتَyou imagined مُدِيرَهاthe one passing it round
إِذَا اتَّقَدَتْ في الْكَأْسِ خِلْتَ مُدِيرَها
تَخَضَّبَwas stained مِنْهَاby her كَفُّهُhis palm بِخِضَابِwith dye
تَخَضَّبَ مِنْهَا كَفُّهُ بِخِضَابِ
When she blazed in the cup, you would think the one passing it round
When she ignites in the chalice, the turbulence stirs her
had his palm stained by her with dye.
Dyeing the palm of the drinker with henna
كَأَنَّas though سَنَاradiance الْكاساتِthe cups والنَّدُّand the incense سَاطِعٌrising
كَأَنَّ سَنَا الْكاساتِ والنَّدُّ سَاطِعٌ
نُجُومٌstars تَراءَتْappeared مِنْfrom خِلالِthe midst of ضَبابِmist
نُجُومٌ تَراءَتْ مِنْ خِلالِ ضَبابِ
The cups' radiance, with incense rising, seemed
As if the cups’ handle and the wine’s sparkle
like stars appearing through mist.
Are stars seen through the mist’s veil
فَيَاso, oh حُسْنَهاits beauty مِنْas لَيْلَةٍa night غَيْرَexcept أَنَّهاthat it
فَيَا حُسْنَها مِنْ لَيْلَةٍ غَيْرَ أَنَّها
تَوَلَّتْit passed ولَمْand did not نَشْعُرْwe sense لَهاof it بِذَهابِa departure
تَوَلَّتْ ولَمْ نَشْعُرْ لَها بِذَهابِ
So, what a lovely night it was—except that
Oh, the beauty of a night that is no more
it passed, and we never sensed its departure.
It has turned, and we did not feel its departure
وَقَدْand already لاحَgleamed بِالظَّلْماءِin the darkness فَجْرٌa dawn كَأَنَّهُas though it
وَقَدْ لاحَ بِالظَّلْماءِ فَجْرٌ كَأَنَّهُ
بَياضُthe whiteness of مَشِيبٍgray hair فِيin سَوَادِthe blackness of شَبابِyouth
بَياضُ مَشِيبٍ فِي سَوَادِ شَبابِ
And dawn had already gleamed in the darkness, as though it were
And dawn has shone in the darkness as if
the whiteness of gray hair amid the blackness of youth.
It is the whiteness of old age amidst youth’s darkness
Sol 6.1