أَرَىI perceive نَفْحَةًa waft دَلَّتْguided عَلَىto كَبِدِيmy liver الْوَجْدَاlonging
أَرَى نَفْحَةً دَلَّتْ عَلَى كَبِدِي الْوَجْدَا
فَمَنْso who كَانَwas بِالْمِقْيَاسِat the Nilometer أَقْرَبَكُمُmost recent among you عَهْدَاin acquaintance
فَمَنْ كَانَ بِالْمِقْيَاسِ أَقْرَبَكُمُ عَهْدَا
I sense a waft that has led longing to my liver.
I see a breeze blowing, revealing my inner passion,
So who among you has most recently been at the Nilometer?
So who among you is closest in understanding my plight?
مَلاعِبُhaunts آرامٍgazelles وَمَجْرَىand a watercourse جَدَاوِلٍbrooks
مَلاعِبُ آرامٍ وَمَجْرَى جَدَاوِلٍ
وَمُلْتَفُّand a tangle أَفْنَانٍof branches تَقِيward off الْحَرَّthe heat وَالْبَرْدَاand the cold
وَمُلْتَفُّ أَفْنَانٍ تَقِي الْحَرَّ وَالْبَرْدَا
Haunts of gazelles, and the course of brooks,
The meadows of peace and flowing brooks,
And a tangle of branches that shields from heat and cold.
And shaded bowers that protect from heat and cold,
إِذَاwhen انْبَعَثَتْarose فِيهِin it النَّسَائِمُthe breezes خِلْتَهَاyou would think them
إِذَا انْبَعَثَتْ فِيهِ النَّسَائِمُ خِلْتَهَا
تُنِيرُweave عَلَىupon مَتْنِthe surface الْغَدِيرِof the pool بِهِthere بُرْدَاa striped mantle
تُنِيرُ عَلَى مَتْنِ الْغَدِيرِ بِهِ بُرْدَا
When the breezes stir there, you would think them
When the gentle winds stir through them,
Weaving a striped mantle there across the pool's surface.
Cooling the surface of the pond with a chill.
كَأَنَّas though الصَّبَاthe east wind تُلْقَىsets out عَلَيْهِupon it إِذَاwhen جَرَتْit blows
كَأَنَّ الصَّبَا تُلْقَى عَلَيْهِ إِذَا جَرَتْ
مَسَائِلproblems فِيin الأَرْقَامِnumbers أَوْor تَلْعَبُplays النَّرْدَاdice
مَسَائِل فِي الأَرْقَامِ أَوْ تَلْعَبُ النَّرْدَا
As though the east wind sets out upon it, whenever it blows,
As though the morning breeze tosses questions of numbers,
Puzzles in numbers, or plays at dice.
Or plays a game of chance upon it.
أَقَامَdwelt الرَّبِيعُspring الطَّلْقُgenial فِيin حَجَراتِهَاits chambers
أَقَامَ الرَّبِيعُ الطَّلْقُ فِي حَجَراتِهَا
وَأَسْدَىand bestowed لَهَاupon it مِنْfrom نِعْمَةِthe bounty النِّيلِof the Nile مَاwhat أَسْدَىit bestowed
وَأَسْدَى لَهَا مِنْ نِعْمَةِ النِّيلِ مَا أَسْدَى
Genial spring dwelt within its chambers,
Spring has made its home in its chambers,
And bestowed upon it all it bestowed of the Nile's bounty.
And provided it generously with the Nile’s bounty.
فَلِلَّهِso, by God كَمْhow many مِنْof صَبْوَةٍa passion كَانَthere was لِيfor me بِهَاthere
فَلِلَّهِ كَمْ مِنْ صَبْوَةٍ كَانَ لِي بِهَا
رَوَاحٌan evening visit إِلَىto حُسَّانَةِlovely الْجِيدِof neck أَوْor مَغْدَىa morning visit
رَوَاحٌ إِلَى حُسَّانَةِ الْجِيدِ أَوْ مَغْدَى
By God, how many a passion led me there,
By God, how often I’ve had pleasant times there,
At evening or morning, to a fair-necked beauty!
Strolling to the beautiful cheek, or a tryst;
إِذِwhen الدَّهْرُTime لَمْnot يُخْفِرْviolated ذِمَاماًa pledge وَلَمْand not يَخُنْbetrayed
إِذِ الدَّهْرُ لَمْ يُخْفِرْ ذِمَاماً وَلَمْ يَخُنْ
نِظَاماًharmony وَلَمْand not يَحْمِلْbore عَلَىtoward ذِيone with هَوىًlove حِقْدَاa grudge
نِظَاماً وَلَمْ يَحْمِلْ عَلَى ذِي هَوىً حِقْدَا
When Time broke no pledge, nor betrayed
When Fate had not yet slighted a pact, or betrayed
Harmony, nor bore a grudge against a lover.
A system, or borne hatred towards a lover.
تَدُورُrevolve عَلَيْنَاover us بِالأَحَاظِيwith good fortune شُمُوسُهُits suns
تَدُورُ عَلَيْنَا بِالأَحَاظِي شُمُوسُهُ
وَتُمْسِيand become at evening عَلَيْنَاfor us طَيْرُthe birds أَنْجُمِهِof its stars سَعْدَاauspicious
وَتُمْسِي عَلَيْنَا طَيْرُ أَنْجُمِهِ سَعْدَا
Its suns circled over us with good fortune,
Its suns revolve above us auspiciously,
And at evening the birds of its stars were auspicious for us.
And its stars spend the night in happiness over us.
وَيَاand O رُبَّmany a لَيْلٍnight لَفَّنَاwrapped us بِرِدَائِهِin its cloak
وَيَا رُبَّ لَيْلٍ لَفَّنَا بِرِدَائِهِ
عِناقاًin an embrace كَمَاas لَفَّwrapped الصَّبَاthe east wind الْبَانَthe ben-tree وَالرَّنْدَاand the laurel
عِناقاً كَمَا لَفَّ الصَّبَا الْبَانَ وَالرَّنْدَا
And oh, how many a night wrapped us in its cloak,
O Lord of a night that wraps us in its gown,
In an embrace, as the east wind wrapped the ben-tree and laurel.
Embracing, as the morning wraps mist and dew!
وَلَثْمٍand a kiss تَوَالَىfollowed إِثْرَafter لَثْمٍa kiss بِثَغْرِهَاupon her lips
وَلَثْمٍ تَوَالَى إِثْرَ لَثْمٍ بِثَغْرِهَا
كَماas شَافَهَtouched with its beak الْبازِيthe hawk عَلَىin ظَمَأٍthirst وِرْدَاdrinking water
كَما شَافَهَ الْبازِي عَلَى ظَمَأٍ وِرْدَا
And kiss followed kiss upon her lips,
With kisses following kisses from her lips,
As a thirsty hawk touches drinking water with its beak.
As the thirsty drunkard savors the wine.
فَتَاةٌa maiden كَأَنَّas though اللهَGod صَوَّرَfashioned لَحْظَهَاher glance
فَتَاةٌ كَأَنَّ اللهَ صَوَّرَ لَحْظَهَا
لِيَهْتِكَto expose أَسْرَارَthe secrets الْقُلُوبِof hearts بِهِwith it عَمْدَاdeliberately
لِيَهْتِكَ أَسْرَارَ الْقُلُوبِ بِهِ عَمْدَا
A maiden, as though God had fashioned her glance
A girl who seems as though God formed her glance
To expose the secrets of hearts with it, deliberately.
To wantonly pierce the secrets of hearts.
لَهَاshe has عَبَثَاتٌplayful gestures عِنْدَat كُلِّevery تَحِيَّةٍgreeting
لَهَا عَبَثَاتٌ عِنْدَ كُلِّ تَحِيَّةٍ
تَسُوقُdraw إِلَيْهَاto her عَنْaway from فَرائِسِهاtheir prey الأُسْدَاthe lions
تَسُوقُ إِلَيْهَا عَنْ فَرائِسِها الأُسْدَا
She has playful gestures at every greeting,
She has coquetries for every greeting,
Drawing lions to her, away from their prey.
That drive her prey wild with passion.
إِذَاwhen انْفَتَلَتْshe turns بِالْكَأْسِwith the cup خِلْتَyou imagine بَنَانَهاher fingertips
إِذَا انْفَتَلَتْ بِالْكَأْسِ خِلْتَ بَنَانَها
تُدِيرُpass around عَلَيْنَاto us مِنْfrom جَنَىthe harvest خَدِّهَاof her cheek وَرْدَاroses
تُدِيرُ عَلَيْنَا مِنْ جَنَى خَدِّهَا وَرْدَا
When she turns with the cup, you would think her fingertips
When she struggles playfully with the goblet, her curling tresses
Were passing us roses from the harvest of her cheek.
Scatter roses from the apple of her cheek upon us.
وَمَاand whatever أَنْسَهُI forget it لاnot أَنْسَI forget يَوْماًa day تَسَابَقَتْraced each other
وَمَا أَنْسَهُ لا أَنْسَ يَوْماً تَسَابَقَتْ
بِهِon it عَبْرَتَاهَاher two tears وَالنَّوَىand parting تَصْدَعُsplits الصَّلْدَاsolid rock
بِهِ عَبْرَتَاهَا وَالنَّوَى تَصْدَعُ الصَّلْدَا
And whatever I forget, I shall not forget a day
How delightful the day her tears raced
When her two tears raced, while parting split solid rock.
Against her passions and the spathes burst from the branches!
فَلَمْso not أَرَI saw لَحْظاًa gaze كَانَwas أَقْتَلَmore deadly بَاكِياًwhile weeping
فَلَمْ أَرَ لَحْظاً كَانَ أَقْتَلَ بَاكِياً
وَأَمْضَىand the keenest الظُّبَاsword edges فِيin الْفَتْكِslaying ماthose that سَالَflowed إِفْرِنْدَاin damascened sheen
وَأَمْضَى الظُّبَا فِي الْفَتْكِ ما سَالَ إِفْرِنْدَا
For I have never seen a gaze more deadly when weeping,
I’ve seen no glance so murderously affecting
And the keenest killing blades are those whose damascened sheen flows.
And no eyelids so deadly in their blows, not even Irfanda’s.
حَرَامٌforbidden عَلَىto الْعَيْنَيْنِthe two eyes إِنْif لمnot تَسِلْshed دَمَاًblood
حَرَامٌ عَلَى الْعَيْنَيْنِ إِنْ لم تَسِلْ دَمَاً
عَلَىover بَيْنِهَاparting from her وَالْقَلْبand the heart إِنْif لَمْnot يَذُبْmelts وَقْدَاwith burning
عَلَى بَيْنِهَا وَالْقَلْب إِنْ لَمْ يَذُبْ وَقْدَا
Rest is forbidden to the eyes if they do not shed blood
It’s a sin if the eyes don’t shed blood
At parting from her, and to the heart if it does not melt in flame.
Over separation, and the heart, if it doesn’t melt in agony.
فَيَاso O قَلْبُheart مَاhow أَشْجَىsorrowful إِذَاwhen الدَّارُthe dwelling بَاعَدَتْkeeps apart
فَيَا قَلْبُ مَا أَشْجَى إِذَا الدَّارُ بَاعَدَتْ
وَيَاand O دَمْعُtears مَاhow أَجْرَىfreely flowing وَيَاand O بَيْنُparting مَاhow أَرْدَىdeadly
وَيَا دَمْعُ مَا أَجْرَى وَيَا بَيْنُ مَا أَرْدَى
So, O heart, how sorrowful when her home keeps us apart!
So my heart, how bitter is the parting of home!
And O tears, how freely you flow; and O parting, how deadly!
And my tear, how copiously it flows! And my beloved, how far she is!
وَيَاand O صَاحِبِيmy friend الْمَذْخُورَtreasured لِلسِّرِّإِنَّنِيfor secrets; indeed I
وَيَا صَاحِبِي الْمَذْخُورَ لِلسِّرِّإِنَّنِي
ضَلَلْتُI strayed فَهَلْso is there مِنْany وَثْبَةٍleap تُكْسِبُearns الْحَمْدَاpraise
ضَلَلْتُ فَهَلْ مِنْ وَثْبَةٍ تُكْسِبُ الْحَمْدَا
And O my friend, treasured as a confidant, indeed I
And my companion, keeper of secrets, I have strayed;
Have strayed; is there a leap that might earn praise?
Is there a leap that can earn praise?
حَلَفْتُI swore بِمَاby what اسْتَوْلَىheld sway عَلَيْهِover it نِقَابُهَاher veil
حَلَفْتُ بِمَا اسْتَوْلَى عَلَيْهِ نِقَابُهَا
وَيَاand O لَكَfor you حَلْفاًمَاan oath—how أَرَقَّtender وَمَاand how أَنْدَىdewy
وَيَا لَكَ حَلْفاًمَا أَرَقَّ وَمَا أَنْدَى
I swore by what her veil enfolded,
I swore an oath by that which her veil concealed,
And what an oath—how tender, and how dewy!
And what an oath! How it burned and glowed!
بِأَلَّاthat not تَفِيئَturn away الْعَيْنُthe eye عَنْfrom سُنَّةِthe habit الْبُكَىof weeping
بِأَلَّا تَفِيئَ الْعَيْنُ عَنْ سُنَّةِ الْبُكَى
وَأَلَّاand that not تَرِيعَrecover النَّفْسُthe soul إِنْif لَمْnot تَمُتْdies وَجْدَاof longing
وَأَلَّا تَرِيعَ النَّفْسُ إِنْ لَمْ تَمُتْ وَجْدَا
That the eye would never turn from the habit of weeping,
Never to rest my eyes from the ritual of weeping,
And that the soul would not recover unless it died of longing.
Or my breath, if it cannot die of passion.
وَكَيْفَand how يُفِيقُrecovers الْقَلْبُthe heart مِنْfrom سَوْرَةِthe frenzy الْهَوَىof love
وَكَيْفَ يُفِيقُ الْقَلْبُ مِنْ سَوْرَةِ الْهَوَى
وَقَدْand already مَدَّهُsustained it سِحْرُthe magic الْعُيُونِof eyes بِمَاwith what مَدَّاit supplied
وَقَدْ مَدَّهُ سِحْرُ الْعُيُونِ بِمَا مَدَّا
And how can the heart recover from love's frenzy,
How can the heart wake from its lovesick stupor
When the magic of eyes has fed it as lavishly as it has?
When the magic of eyes has extended it with all they extend?
وَمَاand not كُنْتُI would لَوْلاwere it not for الْعَذْلُreproach أُبْدِيreveal خَفِيَّةًa secret
وَمَا كُنْتُ لَوْلا الْعَذْلُ أُبْدِي خَفِيَّةً
وَلَكِنْbut تَوَالِيrepeated الْقَدْحِstriking for fire يَسْتَرعِفُmakes bleed الزَّندَاthe fire-stick
وَلَكِنْ تَوَالِي الْقَدْحِ يَسْتَرعِفُ الزَّندَا
And but for reproach, I would not reveal a secret,
Were it not for sobriety, I would not reveal a secret,
But repeated striking makes the fire-stick bleed.
But the flowing cups make one babble nonsense.
وَمَنْand who لِيfor me بِأَنَّwith assurance that الْقَلْبَthe heart يَكْتُمُconceals وَجْدَهُits longing
وَمَنْ لِي بِأَنَّ الْقَلْبَ يَكْتُمُ وَجْدَهُ
وَكَيْفَand how تُسَامُis required النَّارُfire أَنْto تَكْتُمَconceal النَّدَّاincense
وَكَيْفَ تُسَامُ النَّارُ أَنْ تَكْتُمَ النَّدَّا
And who can assure me that the heart will conceal its longing?
Who can help my heart hiding its passion?
And how can fire be required to conceal incense?
How can fire conceal its heat?
فَلاso no وَصْلَunion إِلَّاexcept ذُكْرَةٌa memory تَبْعَثُarouses الأَسَىsorrow
فَلا وَصْلَ إِلَّا ذُكْرَةٌ تَبْعَثُ الأَسَى
عَلَىupon النَّفْسِthe soul حَتَّىuntil لاnot تُطِيقcan manage لَهُagainst it رَدَّاa repulse
عَلَى النَّفْسِ حَتَّى لا تُطِيق لَهُ رَدَّا
So there is no union, save a memory that awakens sorrow
No union but a memory that awakens sorrow
Upon the soul, until it has no strength to repel it.
In the soul, until it cannot bear rejection.
أَبِيتُI spend the night قَرِيحَsore الْجَفْنِof eyelid لاnot أَعْرِفُI know الْكَرَىsleep
أَبِيتُ قَرِيحَ الْجَفْنِ لا أَعْرِفُ الْكَرَى
طَوالَthroughout اللَّيَالِيthe nights والْجَوانِحُand the ribs لاnot تَهْدَاgrow still
طَوالَ اللَّيَالِي والْجَوانِحُ لا تَهْدَا
I spend the night with wounded eyelids, knowing no sleep,
Sleepless I stay with burning eyelids, frenzied
Throughout the nights, while my ribs find no rest.
All night, while my neighbors sleep.
فَيَأَيُّهَاso O you النُّوَّامُوالشَّوْقُthe sleepers, and longing عَازِرٌa supporter
فَيَأَيُّهَا النُّوَّامُوالشَّوْقُ عَازِرٌ
أَلاis there not أَحَدٌanyone يَشْرِيbuys بِغَفْوَتِهِwith his slumber السُّهْدَاsleeplessness
أَلا أَحَدٌ يَشْرِي بِغَفْوَتِهِ السُّهْدَا
So, O sleepers—with longing pleading for me—
So sleepers, while longing keeps vigil,
Will no one buy sleeplessness with his slumber?
Does no one buy wakefulness with reward?
لَقَدْindeed ذَلَّwas humbled مَنْwhoever يَبْغِيseeks مِنَfrom النَّاسِpeople نَاصِراًa helper
لَقَدْ ذَلَّ مَنْ يَبْغِي مِنَ النَّاسِ نَاصِراً
وَقَدand indeed خَابَwas disappointed مَنْwhoever يَجْنِيgathers مِنَfrom الأَرْقَمِthe speckled serpent الشَّهْدَاhoney
وَقَد خَابَ مَنْ يَجْنِي مِنَ الأَرْقَمِ الشَّهْدَا
Truly, whoever seeks a helper among people is humbled,
He who seeks a human guardian is humiliated,
And whoever gathers honey from the speckled serpent is disappointed.
And he who expects gain from fate is denied.
فَإِيَّاكَso beware أَنْof being تُخْدَعْdeceived بِشِيمَةِby the character صَاحِبٍof a companion
فَإِيَّاكَ أَنْ تُخْدَعْ بِشِيمَةِ صَاحِبٍ
فَمَنْfor whoever ظَنَّexpected خَيْرَاًgood بِالزَمَانِof Time فَقَدْhas indeed أَكْدَىcome away empty-handed
فَمَنْ ظَنَّ خَيْرَاً بِالزَمَانِ فَقَدْ أَكْدَى
So beware of being deceived by a companion's character,
Beware being fooled by a friend’s nature,
For whoever expects good of Time comes away empty-handed.
For he who thinks well of fate, has erred.
فَقَدْfor indeed طَالَمَاoften جَرَّبْتُI tested خِلاًa friend فَمَاbut not رَعَىshowed care
فَقَدْ طَالَمَا جَرَّبْتُ خِلاً فَمَا رَعَى
وَحِلْفاًand an ally فَمَاbut not أَوْفَىkept faith وَعَوْنَاًand a helper فَمَاbut not أَجْدَىhelped
وَحِلْفاً فَمَا أَوْفَى وَعَوْنَاً فَمَا أَجْدَى
For often I have tested a friend, but he showed no care,
For long I tested a confidante, but he did not shelter me,
And an ally, but he kept no faith, and a helper, but he gave no aid.
And oaths, but they were not kept, and help, but it was of no use.
وَمَاand not النَّاسُpeople إِلَّاexcept طَالِبٌa seeker غَيْرُnot وَاجِدٍfinding
وَمَا النَّاسُ إِلَّا طَالِبٌ غَيْرُ وَاجِدٍ
لِمَاof what يَبْتَغِيhe seeks أَوْor وَاجِدٌa finder أَخْطَأَmissed الْقَصْدَاthe aim
لِمَا يَبْتَغِي أَوْ وَاجِدٌ أَخْطَأَ الْقَصْدَا
And people are only seekers who do not find
People are but seekers, never finders,
What they seek, or finders who have missed the mark.
Of what they desire, or finders, misguided from their goal.
فَلاso do not تَحْسَبَنَّever suppose النَّاسَpeople أَبْنَاءَsons شِيمَةٍof noble character
فَلا تَحْسَبَنَّ النَّاسَ أَبْنَاءَ شِيمَةٍ
فَمَاfor not كُلُّeveryone مَمْدُودِlong الْخُطَاin stride بَطَلاًa hero جَعْدَاsturdy
فَمَا كُلُّ مَمْدُودِ الْخُطَا بَطَلاً جَعْدَا
So do not suppose people are sons of noble character,
Do not suppose people to be of a virtuous nature,
For not every long-striding man is a sturdy hero.
For not every long-necked one is a heroic camel stallion.
Sol 6.1