طَرِبْتُI thrilled وَلَوْلاand but for الْحِلْمُforbearance أَدْرَكَنِيwould have overtaken me الْجَهْلُfolly
طَرِبْتُ وَلَوْلا الْحِلْمُ أَدْرَكَنِي الْجَهْلُ
وَعَاوَدَنِيand would have returned to me مَاwhat كَانَwas مِنْof شِرّتِيmy impetuosity قَبْلُbefore
وَعَاوَدَنِي مَا كَانَ مِنْ شِرّتِي قَبْلُ
I thrilled; but for forbearance, folly would have overtaken me,
And my former impetuosity would have returned to me.
فَرُحْتُso I went about كَأَنِّيas though I خَامَرَتْنِيhad possessed me سَبِيئَةٌpurchased wine
فَرُحْتُ كَأَنِّي خَامَرَتْنِي سَبِيئَةٌ
مِنَof الرَّاحِwine مَنْwhoever يَعْلَقْbecomes attached بِهَاto her الدَّهْرَfor all time لاnot يَسْلُوforgets
مِنَ الرَّاحِ مَنْ يَعْلَقْ بِهَا الدَّهْرَ لا يَسْلُو
So I went about as though a purchased vintage had possessed me,
A wine whose lover never, through all time, forgets her.
سَلِيلَةُdaughter كَرْمٍof a vine شَابَturned gray فِيin الْمَهْدِthe cradle رَأْسُهَاher head
سَلِيلَةُ كَرْمٍ شَابَ فِي الْمَهْدِ رَأْسُهَا
وَدَبَّand crept لَهَاfor her نَسْلٌoffspring وَمَاand not مَسَّهَاtouched her بَعْلُa husband
وَدَبَّ لَهَا نَسْلٌ وَمَا مَسَّهَا بَعْلُ
Daughter of a vine, her head turned gray in the cradle,
And offspring stirred for her, though no husband had touched her.
إِذَاwhen وَلَجَتْshe entered بَيْتَthe house of الضَّمِيرِthe inner heart رَأَيْتَهَاyou saw her
إِذَا وَلَجَتْ بَيْتَ الضَّمِيرِ رَأَيْتَهَا
وَرَاءَbehind بَنَاتِthe daughters of الصَّدْرِthe breast تَسْفُلُshe sinks أَوْor تَعْلُوshe rises
وَرَاءَ بَنَاتِ الصَّدْرِ تَسْفُلُ أَوْ تَعْلُو
When she enters the chamber of the heart, you see her
Behind the daughters of the breast, sinking or rising.
كَأَنَّas though لَهَاshe has ضِغْناًa grudge عَلَىagainst الْعَقَلِreason كَامِناًhidden
كَأَنَّ لَهَا ضِغْناً عَلَى الْعَقَلِ كَامِناً
فَإِنْso if هِيَshe حَلَّتْsettled مَنْزِلاًin a dwelling رَحَلَdeparted الْعَقْلُreason
فَإِنْ هِيَ حَلَّتْ مَنْزِلاً رَحَلَ الْعَقْلُ
As though she harbored a hidden grudge against reason:
Whenever she settles in a dwelling, reason departs.
تُعَبِّرُshe expresses عَنْconcerning سِرِّthe secret of الضَّمِيرِthe inner heart بِأَلْسُنٍwith tongues
تُعَبِّرُ عَنْ سِرِّ الضَّمِيرِ بِأَلْسُنٍ
مِنَof السُّكْرِdrunkenness مَقْرُونٍcoupled بِصِحَّتِهَاwith their truthfulness النَّقْلُthe report
مِنَ السُّكْرِ مَقْرُونٍ بِصِحَّتِهَا النَّقْلُ
She voices the heart's secret through tongues
Of drunkenness, whose reported words are bound to truth.
مُحَبَّبَةٌbeloved لِلْنَّفْسِto the soul وَهْيَthough she is بَلاؤُهاits affliction
مُحَبَّبَةٌ لِلْنَّفْسِ وَهْيَ بَلاؤُها
كَمَاjust as حُبِّبَتْwere made beloved فِيin فَتْكِهَاtheir slaughter الأَعْيُنُthe eyes النُّجْلُwide
كَمَا حُبِّبَتْ فِي فَتْكِهَا الأَعْيُنُ النُّجْلُ
Beloved of the soul, though she is its affliction,
Just as wide eyes are loved even as they slay.
يَكَادُhe almost يَذُودُdrives away اللَّيْثَthe lion عَنْfrom مُسْتَقَرِّهِits lair
يَكَادُ يَذُودُ اللَّيْثَ عَنْ مُسْتَقَرِّهِ
إِذَاwhen مَاfor emphasis تَحَسَّىsips كَأْسَهَاher cup الْعَاجِزُthe feeble man الْوَغْلُthe uninvited drinker
إِذَا مَا تَحَسَّى كَأْسَهَا الْعَاجِزُ الْوَغْلُ
He almost drives the lion from its lair,
When the feeble, uninvited drinker sips her cup.
تَرَىyou perceive لِخَوَابِيهَاfrom her wine jars أَزِيزاًa buzzing كَأَنَّهَاas though they were
تَرَى لِخَوَابِيهَا أَزِيزاً كَأَنَّهَا
خَلايَاbeehives تَغَنَّتْsang فِيin جَوَانِبِهَاtheir sides النَّحْلُthe bees
خَلايَا تَغَنَّتْ فِي جَوَانِبِهَا النَّحْلُ
You perceive a buzzing from her jars, as though they were
Hives in whose recesses the bees sang.
سَوَاكِنُdwellers in آطَامٍtowers زَفَتْهَاdrove them forth مَعَat الضُّحَىforenoon
سَوَاكِنُ آطَامٍ زَفَتْهَا مَعَ الضُّحَى
يَدَاthe two hands of عَاسِلٍa honey-gatherer يَشْتَارُgathering honey أَوْor خَابِطٍa branch-beater يَفْلُوsearching carefully
يَدَا عَاسِلٍ يَشْتَارُ أَوْ خَابِطٍ يَفْلُو
Dwellers in towers, driven forth at forenoon by
A honey-gatherer's hands, harvesting, or a branch-beater searching.
دَنَاhe approached ثُمَّthen أَلْقَىcast النَّارَfire بَيْنَamong بُيُوتِهَاtheir dwellings
دَنَا ثُمَّ أَلْقَى النَّارَ بَيْنَ بُيُوتِهَا
فَطَارَتْso they flew شَعَاعاًscattered لاnot يَقِرُّsettles لَهَاfor them رَحْلُa saddle-pack
فَطَارَتْ شَعَاعاً لا يَقِرُّ لَهَا رَحْلُ
He approached, then cast fire among their dwellings;
They scattered in flight, with no resting place for their packs.
مُرَوَّعَةٌterrified هِيجَتْroused فَضَلَّتْso they lost سَبِيلَهَاtheir way
مُرَوَّعَةٌ هِيجَتْ فَضَلَّتْ سَبِيلَهَا
فَسَارَتْso they ranged عَلَىacross الدُّنْيَاthe world كَمَاas انْتَشَرَscattered الرِّجْلُa locust swarm
فَسَارَتْ عَلَى الدُّنْيَا كَمَا انْتَشَرَ الرِّجْلُ
Terrified and roused, they lost their way,
And ranged across the world like a scattered locust swarm.
فَبِتُّso I spent the night أُدَارِيsoothing الْقَلْبَthe heart بَعْضَsome of شُجُونِهِits sorrows
فَبِتُّ أُدَارِي الْقَلْبَ بَعْضَ شُجُونِهِ
وَأَزْجُرُand I restrain نَفْسِيmy soul أَنْlest يُلِمَّalight بِهَاupon it الْهَزْلُfrivolity
وَأَزْجُرُ نَفْسِي أَنْ يُلِمَّ بِهَا الْهَزْلُ
So I spent the night soothing my heart in some of its sorrows,
And restraining my soul lest frivolity alight upon it.
وَمَاand not كُنْتُI was أَدْرِيknowing وَالشَّبَابُwhile youth مَطِيَّةٌa mount
وَمَا كُنْتُ أَدْرِي وَالشَّبَابُ مَطِيَّةٌ
إِلَىtoward الْجَهْلِfolly أَنَّthat الْعِشْقَpassionate love يَعْقُبُهُfollows it الْخَبْلُmadness
إِلَى الْجَهْلِ أَنَّ الْعِشْقَ يَعْقُبُهُ الْخَبْلُ
I had not known—youth being a mount
Toward folly—that passionate love is followed by madness.
رَمَىmay strike اللَّهُGod هَاتِيكَthose الْعُيُونَeyes بِمَاwith what رَمَتْthey shot
رَمَى اللَّهُ هَاتِيكَ الْعُيُونَ بِمَا رَمَتْ
وَحَاسَبَهَاand call them to account حُسْبَانَwith the reckoning of مَنْone who حُكْمُهُhis judgment الْعَدْلُjustice
وَحَاسَبَهَا حُسْبَانَ مَنْ حُكْمُهُ الْعَدْلُ
May God strike those eyes with what they shot,
And call them to account as One whose judgment is justice.
فَقَدْfor indeed تَرَكَتْنِيthey left me سَاهِيَheedless of الْعَقْلِreason سَادِراًwandering blindly
فَقَدْ تَرَكَتْنِي سَاهِيَ الْعَقْلِ سَادِراً
إِلَىtoward الْغَيِّerror لاno عَقْدٌbinding لَدَيَّin my power وَلاand no حَلُّloosing
إِلَى الْغَيِّ لا عَقْدٌ لَدَيَّ وَلا حَلُّ
For they left me heedless of mind, wandering blindly
Toward error, able neither to bind nor to loose.
أَسِيرُI travel وَمَاand not أَدْرِيI know إِلَىto أَيْنَwhere يَنْتَهِيcomes to an end
أَسِيرُ وَمَا أَدْرِي إِلَى أَيْنَ يَنْتَهِي
بِيَwith me السَّيْرُthe journey لَكِنِّيbut I تَلَقَّفُنِيsnatch me up السُّبْلُthe roads
بِيَ السَّيْرُ لَكِنِّي تَلَقَّفُنِي السُّبْلُ
I walk, not knowing where
My journey will take me; yet the roads snatch me up.
فَلاso do not تَسْأَلَنِّيask me عَنْabout هَوَايَmy love فَإِنَّنِيfor I
فَلا تَسْأَلَنِّي عَنْ هَوَايَ فَإِنَّنِي
وَرَبِّكَby your Lord أَدْرِيI know كَيْفَhow زَلَّتْslipped بِيَbeneath me النَّعْلُthe sandal
وَرَبِّكَ أَدْرِي كَيْفَ زَلَّتْ بِيَ النَّعْلُ
Do not ask me about my love, for I,
By your Lord, know how my sandal slipped beneath me.
فَمَاso not هِيَit إِلَّاexcept أَنْthat نَظَرْتُI looked فُجَاءَةًsuddenly
فَمَا هِيَ إِلَّا أَنْ نَظَرْتُ فُجَاءَةً
بِحُلْوانَat Hulwan حَيْثُwhere انْهَارَcollapsed وَانْعَقَدَand gathered الرَّمْلُthe sand
بِحُلْوانَ حَيْثُ انْهَارَ وَانْعَقَدَ الرَّمْلُ
It was only that I suddenly looked,
At Hulwan, where the sand falls away and gathers,
إِلَىat نِسْوَةٍwomen مِثْلِlike الْجُمَانِpearls تَنَاسَقَتْwere harmoniously arranged
إِلَى نِسْوَةٍ مِثْلِ الْجُمَانِ تَنَاسَقَتْ
فَرَائِدُهُits rare gems حُسْنَاًin beauty وَأَلَّفَهُand united it الشَّمْلُthe gathering
فَرَائِدُهُ حُسْنَاً وَأَلَّفَهُ الشَّمْلُ
At women like pearls, whose rare gems were matched
In beauty and brought together in one company.
مِنَamong الْمَاطِلاتِthose who put off الْمَرْءَa man مَاwhat قَدْalready وَعَدْنَهُthey promised him
مِنَ الْمَاطِلاتِ الْمَرْءَ مَا قَدْ وَعَدْنَهُ
كِذَابَاًfalsely فَلاso no عَهْدٌcovenant لَهُنَّfor them وَلاand no إِلُّbond
كِذَابَاً فَلا عَهْدٌ لَهُنَّ وَلا إِلُّ
Women who put a man off over what they promised him,
Falsely: they keep neither covenant nor bond.
تَكَنَّفْنَthey surrounded تِمْثَالاًa statue مِنَof الْحُسْنِbeauty رَائِعاًwondrous
تَكَنَّفْنَ تِمْثَالاً مِنَ الْحُسْنِ رَائِعاً
يُجَنُّgoes mad جُنُونَاًin madness عِنْدَat رُؤْيَتِهِseeing it الْعَقْلُreason
يُجَنُّ جُنُونَاً عِنْدَ رُؤْيَتِهِ الْعَقْلُ
They surrounded a wondrous statue of beauty,
At whose sight reason runs utterly mad.
فَكَانَthen occurred الَّذِيthat which لَوْلاهُbut for it مَاnot دُرْتُI wandered هَائِمَاًlove-crazed
فَكَانَ الَّذِي لَوْلاهُ مَا دُرْتُ هَائِمَاً
أَرُودُI roam الْفَيَافِيthe wastelands لاno صَدِيقٌfriend وَلاand no خِلُّintimate
أَرُودُ الْفَيَافِي لا صَدِيقٌ وَلا خِلُّ
Then happened that, but for which I would not roam love-crazed,
Ranging the wastes without a friend or intimate.
فَوَيْلُمِّهَاso, woe to its mother! مِنْof نَظْرَةٍa glance مَضْرَحِيَّةٍeagle-like
فَوَيْلُمِّهَا مِنْ نَظْرَةٍ مَضْرَحِيَّةٍ
رُمِيتُI was struck بِهَاby it مِنْfrom حَيْثُwhere وَاجَهَنِيfaced me الأَثْلُthe tamarisks
رُمِيتُ بِهَا مِنْ حَيْثُ وَاجَهَنِي الأَثْلُ
Ah, what an eagle-like glance!
I was struck by it where the tamarisks faced me.
رُمِيتُI was struck بِهَاby it وَالْقَلْبُwhile the heart خِلْوٌwas empty مِنَof الْهَوَىlove
رُمِيتُ بِهَا وَالْقَلْبُ خِلْوٌ مِنَ الْهَوَى
فَمَاso not بَرِحَتْit ceased حَتَّىuntil اسْتَقَلَّtook full possession بِهِof it شُغْلُa preoccupation
فَمَا بَرِحَتْ حَتَّى اسْتَقَلَّ بِهِ شُغْلُ
It struck me while my heart was empty of love;
It persisted until a consuming care wholly possessed it.
لَقَدْindeed عَلِقَتْshe became enamored مَاone whom لَيْسَthere is no لِلنَّفْسِfor the soul دُونَهَاwithout her
لَقَدْ عَلِقَتْ مَا لَيْسَ لِلنَّفْسِ دُونَهَا
غَنَاءٌsufficiency وَلاand no مِنْهَاfrom her لِذِيfor one with صَبْوَةٍpassion وَصْلُunion
غَنَاءٌ وَلا مِنْهَا لِذِي صَبْوَةٍ وَصْلُ
Indeed, my soul has clung to one without whom
It has no contentment, yet from whom no lover wins union.
فَتَاةٌa maiden يَحَارُis bewildered الطَّرْفُthe gaze فِيin قَسَمَاتِهَاher features
فَتَاةٌ يَحَارُ الطَّرْفُ فِي قَسَمَاتِهَا
لَهَاshe has مَنْظَرٌan appearance مِنْfrom رَائِدِthe scout of الْعَيْنِthe eye لاnot يَخْلُوis free
لَهَا مَنْظَرٌ مِنْ رَائِدِ الْعَيْنِ لا يَخْلُو
A maiden whose features bewilder the eye,
Whose beauty is never free of the eye's roving scout.
لَطِيفَةُdelicate in مَجْرَىthe passage of الرُّوحِbreath لَوْif أَنَّهَاthat she مَشَتْwalked
لَطِيفَةُ مَجْرَى الرُّوحِ لَوْ أَنَّهَا مَشَتْ
عَلَىupon سَارِبَاتِthe crawling ones of الذَّرِّtiny ants مَاnot آدَهُburdened them الْحِمْلُthe burden
عَلَى سَارِبَاتِ الذَّرِّ مَا آدَهُ الْحِمْلُ
Delicate where breath passes; were she to walk
Upon the creeping ants, her weight would not burden them.
لَهَاshe has نَظْرَةٌa glance سَكْرَىdrunken إِذَاwhen أَرْسَلَتْshe sent بِهَاwith it
لَهَا نَظْرَةٌ سَكْرَى إِذَا أَرْسَلَتْ بِهَا
إِلَىtoward كَبِدٍa liver فَالْوَيْلُthen woe مِنْfrom ذَاكَthat وَالثُكْلُand bereavement
إِلَى كَبِدٍ فَالْوَيْلُ مِنْ ذَاكَ وَالثُكْلُ
She has a drunken glance; when she sends it
Toward a liver, there come woe and bereavement.
تُريقُshe spills دِمَاءٌblood حَرَّمَforbade اللَّهُGod سَفْكَهَاits shedding
تُريقُ دِمَاءٌ حَرَّمَ اللَّهُ سَفْكَهَا
وَتَخْرُجُand she emerges مِنْهَاfrom it لاno قِصَاصٌretaliation وَلاand no عَقْلُblood-money
وَتَخْرُجُ مِنْهَا لا قِصَاصٌ وَلا عَقْلُ
She spills blood whose shedding God forbade,
And walks free, with neither retaliation nor blood-money.
لَنَاfor us كُلّevery يَوْمٍday فِيin هَوَاهَاlove of her مَصَارِعٌfields of slaughter
لَنَا كُلّ يَوْمٍ فِي هَوَاهَا مَصَارِعٌ
يَهِيجُrages الرَّدَىdeath فِيهَاin them وَيَلْتَهِبُand blazes الْقَتْلُslaughter
يَهِيجُ الرَّدَى فِيهَا وَيَلْتَهِبُ الْقَتْلُ
Each day, in loving her, we have fields of slaughter,
Where death rages and slaughter blazes.
مَصَارِعُfields of slaughter of شَوْقٍlonging لَيْسَnot يَجْرِيflows بِهَاin them دَمٌblood
مَصَارِعُ شَوْقٍ لَيْسَ يَجْرِي بِهَا دَمٌ
وَمَرْمَىand a shooting-ground for نُفُوسٍsouls لاnot يَطِيرُflies بِهِin it نَبْلُarrows
وَمَرْمَى نُفُوسٍ لا يَطِيرُ بِهِ نَبْلُ
Fields of longing where no blood flows,
And a shooting-ground for souls where no arrows fly.
هَنِيئاًmay it be sweet لَهَاto her نَفْسِيmy soul عَلَىdespite أَنَّthat دُونَهَاbefore it
هَنِيئاً لَهَا نَفْسِي عَلَى أَنَّ دُونَهَا
فَوَارِسَhorsemen لاnot خُرْسُmute in الصِّفَاحِthe sword-blades وَلاnor عُزْلُunarmed
فَوَارِسَ لا خُرْسُ الصِّفَاحِ وَلا عُزْلُ
May my soul be sweet to her, though before it stand
Horsemen whose blades are not mute, nor are they unarmed.
مِنَof الْقَوْمِthe people ضَرَّابِيstrikers of الْعَرَاقِيبِhamstrings وَالطُّلَىand throats
مِنَ الْقَوْمِ ضَرَّابِي الْعَرَاقِيبِ وَالطُّلَى
إِذَاwhen اسْتَنَّتِgalloped الْغَارَاتُthe raids أَوْor فَغَرَgaped الْمَحْلُfamine
إِذَا اسْتَنَّتِ الْغَارَاتُ أَوْ فَغَرَ الْمَحْلُ
Of a people who strike through hamstrings and throats,
When raids charge forth or famine gapes.
إِذَاwhen نَامَتِslept الأَضْغَانُrancors عَنْheedless of وَتَرَاتِهَاtheir wrongs
إِذَا نَامَتِ الأَضْغَانُ عَنْ وَتَرَاتِهَا
فَقَوْمِيَthen my people قَوْمٌa people لاnot يَنَامُsleeps لَهُمْof theirs ذَحْلُa blood-debt
فَقَوْمِيَ قَوْمٌ لا يَنَامُ لَهُمْ ذَحْلُ
When rancors sleep, unmindful of their wrongs,
My people are a people whose blood-debt never sleeps.
رِجَالٌmen أُولُوpossessing بَأْسٍmight شَدِيدٍfierce وَنَجْدَةٍand valor
رِجَالٌ أُولُو بَأْسٍ شَدِيدٍ وَنَجْدَةٍ
فَقَوْلُهُمُso their word قَوْلٌa word وَفِعْلُهُمُand their deed فِعْلُa deed
فَقَوْلُهُمُ قَوْلٌ وَفِعْلُهُمُ فِعْلُ
Men of fierce might and valor:
Their word is a word, and their deed a deed.
إِذَاwhen غَضِبُواthey grew angry رَدُّواthey drove back إِلَىto الأُفْقِthe horizon شَمْسَهُits sun
إِذَا غَضِبُوا رَدُّوا إِلَى الأُفْقِ شَمْسَهُ
وَسَالَand flowed بِدُفَّاعِwith torrents of الْقَنَاspears الْحَزْنُthe rugged ground وَالسَّهْلُand the plain
وَسَالَ بِدُفَّاعِ الْقَنَا الْحَزْنُ وَالسَّهْلُ
When angered, they drive the sun back to its horizon,
And rugged ground and plain flow with torrents of spears.
مَسَاعِيرُkindlers of حَرْبٍwar لاnot يَخَافُونَthey fear ذِلَّةًhumiliation
مَسَاعِيرُ حَرْبٍ لا يَخَافُونَ ذِلَّةً
أَلاtake heed إِنَّindeed تَهْيَابَdread of الْحُرُوبِwars هُوَis itself الذُّلُّhumiliation
أَلا إِنَّ تَهْيَابَ الْحُرُوبِ هُوَ الذُّلُّ
Kindlers of war, they fear no humiliation;
Mark this: dread of war is humiliation itself.
إِذَاwhen أَطْرَقُواthey lowered their heads أَبْصَرْتَyou saw بِالْقَوْمِamong the people خِيفَةًfear
إِذَا أَطْرَقُوا أَبْصَرْتَ بِالْقَوْمِ خِيفَةً
لإِطْرَاقِهِمْbecause they lowered their heads أَوْor بَيَّنُواthey spoke clearly رَكَدَgrew still الْحَفْلُthe gathering
لإِطْرَاقِهِمْ أَوْ بَيَّنُوا رَكَدَ الْحَفْلُ
When they lower their heads, you see fear among the people
At their silence; or, if they speak, the gathering falls still.
وَإِنْand if زَلَّتِslipped الأَقْدَامُfeet فِيin دَرْكِattaining غَايَةٍa goal
وَإِنْ زَلَّتِ الأَقْدَامُ فِي دَرْكِ غَايَةٍ
تَحَارُare bewildered بِهَاby it الأَلْبَابُminds كَانَwas لَهَاtheirs الْخَصْلُthe winning shot
تَحَارُ بِهَا الأَلْبَابُ كَانَ لَهَا الْخَصْلُ
And if feet falter in attaining a goal
That bewilders minds, theirs is the winning shot.
أُولَئِكَthose قَوْمِيmy people أَيَّwhat a قَوْمٍpeople وَعُدَّةٍand support
أُولَئِكَ قَوْمِي أَيَّ قَوْمٍ وَعُدَّةٍ
فَلاso not رَبْعُهُمْtheir dwelling مَحْلٌbarren وَلاand not مَاؤُهُمْtheir water ضَحْلُshallow
فَلا رَبْعُهُمْ مَحْلٌ وَلا مَاؤُهُمْ ضَحْلُ
Those are my people—what a people, what a support!
Neither is their dwelling barren nor their water shallow.
يَفِيضُونَthey overflow بِالْمَعْرُوفِwith kindness فَيْضَاًabundantly فَلَيْسَso there is not فِيin
يَفِيضُونَ بِالْمَعْرُوفِ فَيْضَاً فَلَيْسَ فِي
عَطَائِهِمْtheir giving وَعْدٌa promise وَلاand no بَعْدَهُafter it مَطْلُdelay
عَطَائِهِمْ وَعْدٌ وَلا بَعْدَهُ مَطْلُ
They pour forth kindness in floods; there is no
Promise in their giving, nor any delay thereafter.
فَزُرْهُمْso visit them تَجِدْyou will find مَعْرُوفَهُمtheir kindness دَانِيَnear الْجَنَىthe fruit
فَزُرْهُمْ تَجِدْ مَعْرُوفَهُم دَانِيَ الْجَنَى
عَلَيْكَto you وَبَابَand the gate of الْخَيْرِgoodness لَيْسَthere is not لَهُfor it قُفْلُa lock
عَلَيْكَ وَبَابَ الْخَيْرِ لَيْسَ لَهُ قُفْلُ
So visit them: you will find their kindness's fruit hanging near
To you, and the gate of goodness with no lock upon it.
تَرَىyou see كُلَّevery مَشْبُوبِablaze with الْحَمِيَّةِzeal لَمْnot يَسِرْhe marched
تَرَى كُلَّ مَشْبُوبِ الْحَمِيَّةِ لَمْ يَسِرْ
إِلَىagainst فِئَةٍa band إِلَّاexcept وَطَائِرُهُwhile his bird of fortune يَعْلُوrises high
إِلَى فِئَةٍ إِلَّا وَطَائِرُهُ يَعْلُو
You see each man ablaze with zeal: never has he marched
Against a band without his bird of fortune soaring high.
بَعِيدُfar-reaching in الْهَوَىaspiration لاnot يَغْلِبُovercomes الظَّنُّconjecture رَأْيَهُhis judgment
بَعِيدُ الْهَوَى لا يَغْلِبُ الظَّنُّ رَأْيَهُ
وَلاand not يَتَهَادَىsaunters بَيْنَamid تَسْرَاعِهِhis swiftness الْمَهْلُdelay
وَلا يَتَهَادَى بَيْنَ تَسْرَاعِهِ الْمَهْلُ
Far-reaching in aspiration, no conjecture overcomes his judgment,
Nor does delay saunter amid his swiftness.
تَصِيحُcry out الْقَنَاthe spears مِمَّاat how يَدُقُّhe crushes صُدُورَهَاtheir breasts
تَصِيحُ الْقَنَا مِمَّا يَدُقُّ صُدُورَهَا
طِعَانَاًin thrusting وَيَشْكُوand complains فِعْلَthe work of سَاعِدِهِhis forearm النَّصْلُthe blade
طِعَانَاً وَيَشْكُو فِعْلَ سَاعِدِهِ النَّصْلُ
Spears cry out at how he crushes their breasts
In thrusting, and the blade complains of his forearm's work.
إِذَاwhen صَالَhe charges رَوَّىslakes السَّيْفُthe sword حَرَّthe heat of غَلِيلِهِhis burning thirst
إِذَا صَالَ رَوَّى السَّيْفُ حَرَّ غَلِيلِهِ
وَإِنْand if قَالَhe speaks أَوْرَىstrikes sparks from زَنْدَهُhis fire-stick الْمَنْطِقُspeech الْفَصْلُdecisive
وَإِنْ قَالَ أَوْرَى زَنْدَهُ الْمَنْطِقُ الْفَصْلُ
When he charges, the sword slakes his burning thirst;
And when he speaks, decisive words strike sparks from his fire-stick.
لَهُhe has بَيْنَamid مَجْرَىthe flow of الْقَوْلِspeech آيَاتُsigns of حِكْمَةٍwisdom
لَهُ بَيْنَ مَجْرَى الْقَوْلِ آيَاتُ حِكْمَةٍ
يَدُورُrevolves عَلَىaround آدَابِهَاits teachings الْجِدُّearnestness وَالْهَزْلُand jest
يَدُورُ عَلَى آدَابِهَا الْجِدُّ وَالْهَزْلُ
In the flow of his speech are signs of wisdom,
Around whose teachings earnestness and jest revolve.
تَلُوحُshine عَلَيْهِupon him مِنْfrom أَبِيهِhis father وَجَدِّهِand his grandfather
تَلُوحُ عَلَيْهِ مِنْ أَبِيهِ وَجَدِّهِ
مَخَايِلُtraits سَاوَىwere equal بَيْنَهَاin them الْفَرْعُthe branch وَالأَصْلُand the root
مَخَايِلُ سَاوَى بَيْنَهَا الْفَرْعُ وَالأَصْلُ
Upon him shine, from his father and grandfather,
Traits in which the branch has equaled the root.
فَأَشْيَبُنَاso our graybeard فِيat مُلْتَقَىthe meeting of الْخَيْلِthe horses أَمْرَدa beardless youth
فَأَشْيَبُنَا فِي مُلْتَقَى الْخَيْلِ أَمْرَد
وَأَمْرَدُنَاand our beardless youth فِيin كُلِّevery مُعْضِلَةٍdifficult problem كَهْلُa mature man
وَأَمْرَدُنَا فِي كُلِّ مُعْضِلَةٍ كَهْلُ
Our graybeard is a beardless youth where the horses clash,
And our beardless youth is a mature man in every difficult affair.
لَنَاours is الْفَضْلُpreeminence فِيمَاin what قَدْalready مَضَىhas passed وَهْوَand it is قَائِمٌenduring
لَنَا الْفَضْلُ فِيمَا قَدْ مَضَى وَهْوَ قَائِمٌ
لَدَيْنَاwith us وَفِيمَاand in what بَعْدafter ذَاكَthat لَنَاours is الْفَضْلُpreeminence
لَدَيْنَا وَفِيمَا بَعْد ذَاكَ لَنَا الْفَضْلُ
Ours is preeminence in what has passed, and it endures
Among us; in what comes after, preeminence is ours.
Sol 6.1