اسْقِنِيgive me a drink وَاشْرَبْand drink خَلِيلِيmy intimate friend
اسْقِنِي وَاشْرَبْ خَلِيلِي
جُرْعَةَa draught الكَأسِthe cup الْعَلِيلِailing
جُرْعَةَ الكَأسِ الْعَلِيلِ
Give me a drink and drink, my dear friend,
Quench my thirst, my friend,
a draught from the ailing cup.
With a draught from the gentle cup,
ارْونِيquench my thirst إنِّيindeed I am ظَمِيthirsty، لاnot
ارْونِي إنِّي ظَمِي، لا
أرْتَويهَاI have my fill of it بِالْقَلِيلِwith a little
أرْتَويهَا بِالْقَلِيلِ
Quench my thirst; I am thirsty—I do not
Show me, for I am parched - do not
have my fill of it with just a little.
Quench me with little.
وَامْضِيand go on لاdo not تُخْفِيهَاhide it سِرًّاas a secret
وَامْضِي لا تُخْفِيهَا سِرًّا
كُلُّevery سِرٍّsecret مِنْfrom دَلِيلِيmy proof
كُلُّ سِرٍّ مِنْ دَلِيلِي
And go on; do not keep it a secret;
Go on, do not keep it secret,
every secret is part of my proof.
Every secret comes from my confidant.
وَامْضِيand go بِيْwith me حَيْثُwhere الْتَقَيْنَاwe met
وَامْضِي بِيْ حَيْثُ الْتَقَيْنَا
سَاعَةَthe hour الصُّبْحِthe dawn الْجَلِيلِmajestic
سَاعَةَ الصُّبْحِ الْجَلِيلِ
And take me where we met,
Take me where we met
at the hour of the majestic dawn.
At the blessed dawn,
لاdo not تُبَالِيcare بِالسُّكُوتِabout the silence
لا تُبَالِي بِالسُّكُوتِ
نَبْضُنُاour pulse حَكْيُspeech الْهَدِيلِcooing
نَبْضُنُا حَكْيُ الْهَدِيلِ
Do not mind the silence;
Disregard the silence -
our pulse is the speech of cooing.
Our whispers are the murmuring of streams.
إنْif تَرَاءىappears لِلْحَيَارَىto the bewildered
إنْ تَرَاءى لِلْحَيَارَى
خَطْونُاour stride، لاnot بِالذَّلِيلِa servile one
خَطْونُا، لا بِالذَّلِيلِ
If the bewildered catch sight of
If our steps seem lost
our stride—not a servile one—
To the perplexed, they are not demeaning.
فاعْلَمِيthen know أنِّيthat I أُحِبُّكْI love you
فاعْلَمِي أنِّي أُحِبُّكْ
لَسْتُI am not بِالصَّبِa lovesick lover الْهَذِيلِfeeble
لَسْتُ بِالصَّبِ الْهَذِيلِ
then know that I love you;
Know that I love you,
I am not a feeble, lovesick lover.
I am no fickle youth,
لٙمْdid not أُدَارِI conceal بَعْضَpart of شَوْقِيmy longing
لٙمْ أُدَارِ بَعْضَ شَوْقِي
فِيin خُضُوعٍsubmission مِنْfrom بَلِيْلِيmy cool, damp breeze
فِي خُضُوعٍ مِنْ بَلِيْلِي
I did not conceal part of my longing
I have not turned away some of my passion
in submission born of my cool, damp breeze.
In weak submission,
أثْقِلِينِيweigh me down كُلَّevery حُبٍّlove
أثْقِلِينِي كُلَّ حُبٍّ
أنْتِyou لِيto me كُلُّall الْحَلِيلِthe spouse
أنْتِ لِي كُلُّ الْحَلِيلِ
Weigh me down with every love;
Weigh me down with all your love,
to me, you are all a spouse can be.
You are all comfort to me.
يَاO قَصِيدًاpoem بِتُّI spent the night فِيهِin it
يَا قَصِيدًا بِتُّ فِيهِ
حَرْفُهُits letter نَبْضِيmy pulse، نَزِيلِيmy guest
حَرْفُهُ نَبْضِي، نَزِيلِي
O poem in which I spent the night,
O poem where
its letter is my pulse, my guest.
Its letters are my pulse, my descent,
أُسْكُبِيpour out وَجْهَthe face الْمَعَانِيthe meanings
أُسْكُبِي وَجْهَ الْمَعَانِي
فِيinto فُؤادِيmy heart، لاdo not تَحُولِيturn away
فِي فُؤادِي، لا تَحُولِي
Pour out the face of meanings
Pour out the meanings -
into my heart; do not turn away.
Into my heart, do not waver,
لِيI have مِنَof الْخَمْرِwine عَجِيبٌsomething wondrous
لِي مِنَ الْخَمْرِ عَجِيبٌ
بِاللَّيَالِيat night هُوْit عَقِيلِيmy close companion
بِاللَّيَالِي هُوْ عَقِيلِي
I have a wondrous wine;
Wondrous to me, is the wine
at night, it is my close companion.
At night it is my friend,
خَمْرَةُthe wine الشِّعْرِpoetry انْهِمَارٌa downpour
خَمْرَةُ الشِّعْرِ انْهِمَارٌ
تُبْتَدَىit begins عِنْدَupon الْوُصُولِarrival
تُبْتَدَى عِنْدَ الْوُصُولِ
The wine of poetry is a downpour.
The inebriation of poetry is a downpour
It begins upon arrival.
Begun when goals are reached,
خَمْرَةُa wine لَيْسَتْis not لِبَيْعٍfor sale
خَمْرَةُ لَيْسَتْ لِبَيْعٍ
إنَّمَاonly للمُسْتَحِيلِfor the impossible
إنَّمَا للمُسْتَحِيلِ
A wine that is not for sale,
An inebriation not for sale
but only for the impossible.
Rather for the impossible.
Sol 6.1