عاوِدreturn to عَزاءَكَyour fortitude لاnot يَعنُفdeal harshly بِكَwith you الذِكَرُmemories
عاوِد عَزاءَكَ لا يَعنُف بِكَ الذِكَرُ
ماذاwhat الَّذيthat which بَعدَafter شَيبِgraying الرَأسِthe head تَنتَظِرُyou await
ماذا الَّذي بَعدَ شَيبِ الرَأسِ تَنتَظِرُ
Renew your fortitude; let memories not torment you.
Return to your consolation, remembrance does not oppress you,
What do you await after your head has gone gray?
What is it that you await after the greying of the head?
هَذاthis الشَبابُyouth لَهُit has فيin شِرَّةٍardor أُنُفُfresh beginnings
هَذا الشَبابُ لَهُ في شِرَّةٍ أُنُفُ
دونَbefore الثَلاثينَthirty مَجلوبٌdrawn forth بِهِby it الشِرَرُsparks
دونَ الثَلاثينَ مَجلوبٌ بِهِ الشِرَرُ
This youth has fresh beginnings in its ardor;
This youth has an impetuousness that is prone to evil,
Before thirty, sparks are drawn forth by it.
Before thirty he is inclined by mischief.
يَرميهِassails it بِالحَزمِwith resolve مَعقولٌa man restrained by reason فَتَنزِعُهُyet they draw him
يَرميهِ بِالحَزمِ مَعقولٌ فَتَنزِعُهُ
إِلىtoward التَصابيyouthful dalliance القَريباتُthe near ones الهَوىlove النُفُرُthe skittish ones
إِلى التَصابي القَريباتُ الهَوى النُفُرُ
A man ruled by reason assails it with resolve, yet he is drawn
Reason throws him with resolve but desire pulls him
Toward youthful dalliance by women near in love, yet skittish.
To lusts, the nearby maidens and coquetry pull him.
أَهِلَّةٌcrescent moons فَوقَabove أَغصانٍbranches عَلىupon كُثُبٍsandhills
أَهِلَّةٌ فَوقَ أَغصانٍ عَلى كُثُبٍ
كَأَنَّهاas though they صُوَرٌimages تَمشيwalk بِهاwith them البَقَرُthe wild cows
كَأَنَّها صُوَرٌ تَمشي بِها البَقَرُ
Crescent moons above branches upon sandhills,
Crescents above branches on sand dunes
As though they were images borne along by wild cows.
As if they are images walked by cows.
تَبكيshe weeps لِبَيضاءَat a white strand لاحَتappeared فيin مَفارِقِهِhis hair’s partings
تَبكي لِبَيضاءَ لاحَت في مَفارِقِهِ
بَيضاءُa fair woman ماnot يَنقَضيcomes to an end مِنهاfrom her لَهُfor him وَطَرُdesire
بَيضاءُ ما يَنقَضي مِنها لَهُ وَطَرُ
She weeps at a white strand that has appeared in his hair’s partings—
She cries for the whiteness that appeared in his separation,
A fair woman for whom his desire never ends.
Whiteness that does not cease flowing for him.
يَروعُهاfrightens her الشَيبُgray hair تاراتٍat times وَيُعجِبُهاand pleases her
يَروعُها الشَيبُ تاراتٍ وَيُعجِبُها
بَقِيَّةٌa remnant مِنهُof him لَمhas not يَعنُفtreated harshly بِهاwith it الكِبَرُold age
بَقِيَّةٌ مِنهُ لَم يَعنُف بِها الكِبَرُ
Gray hair frightens her at times, yet she admires
Greying hair frightens her but she loves
A remnant of him that old age has not treated harshly.
What little of it the old age did not make rigid.
هُوَit الشَبابُyouth فَماso what بالُthe matter الصِباyouthfulness حُبِسَتwere withheld
هُوَ الشَبابُ فَما بالُ الصِبا حُبِسَت
أَيّامُهُits days وَقَدand already اِشتَدَّتhave grown strong لَهاfor them المِرَرُthe twisted cords
أَيّامُهُ وَقَد اِشتَدَّت لَها المِرَرُ
It is youth—why, then, has youthfulness been denied
It is youth so why was adolescence imprisoned?
Its days, though their cords have grown strong?
Its days have hardened and bitterness took over.
كِلاeach of the two الجَديدَينِday and night قَدalready أُطعِمتُI was given to taste حَبرَتَهُits delight
كِلا الجَديدَينِ قَد أُطعِمتُ حَبرَتَهُ
بادٍpresent وَماضٍand past وَمَغفورٌand forgiven وَمُغتَفَرُand pardoned
بادٍ وَماضٍ وَمَغفورٌ وَمُغتَفَرُ
I have tasted the delight of both day and night:
Both the new and old I have wetted their parchments
Present and past, forgiven and pardoned.
With the past, present, forgiven and forgiving.
خَليفَةَO caliph اللَهِof God إِنَّindeed النَصرَvictory مُقتَصَرٌreserved
خَليفَةَ اللَهِ إِنَّ النَصرَ مُقتَصَرٌ
عَلَيكَfor you مُذsince أَنتَyou مَبلوٌtried وَمُختَبَرُand tested
عَلَيكَ مُذ أَنتَ مَبلوٌ وَمُختَبَرُ
O caliph of God, victory is reserved
O Caliph of God, victory is destined for you
For you, ever since you were tried and tested.
Since you have been tested and tried.
أَعدَدتَyou prepared لِلحَربِfor war سَيفاًa sword مِنfrom بَنيthe sons of مَطَرٍMatar
أَعدَدتَ لِلحَربِ سَيفاً مِن بَني مَطَرٍ
يَمضيit advances بِأَمرِكَat your command مَخلوعاًcast off لَهُfor it العُذُرُthe bridles
يَمضي بِأَمرِكَ مَخلوعاً لَهُ العُذُرُ
You have prepared for war a sword from Banu Matar,
You have prepared for war a sword from the tribe of Matar
Which advances at your command, its bridles cast off.
That goes forth by your command, excuses denied to it.
لاقىmet with بَنوthe sons of قَيصَرٍCaesar لَمّاwhen هَمَمتَyou resolved بِهِمagainst them
لاقى بَنو قَيصَرٍ لَمّا هَمَمتَ بِهِم
مِثلَthe like of الَّذيwhat سَوفَwill تَلقىmeet مِثلَهُits like الخَزَرُthe Khazars
مِثلَ الَّذي سَوفَ تَلقى مِثلَهُ الخَزَرُ
The sons of Caesar, when you set your sights on them, met
The sons of Caesar, when you set aims against them,
The like of what the Khazars shall meet.
Will meet what the Khazars will meet like it.
لَقَدindeed بَعَثتَyou sent إِلىto خاقانَKhaqan جائِحَةًa scourge
لَقَد بَعَثتَ إِلى خاقانَ جائِحَةً
خَرقاءَreckless حَصّاءَall-destroying لاnot تُبقيit spares وَلاand not تَذَرُit leaves
خَرقاءَ حَصّاءَ لا تُبقي وَلا تَذَرُ
You have indeed sent to Khaqan a scourge,
You have sent against the Khan a barefoot army,
Reckless and all-destroying, sparing nothing and leaving nothing.
Rugged, stony, leaving no survivor or remnant.
أَظَلَّهُمovershadowed them مِنكَfrom you رُعبٌa dread واقِفٌremaining بِهِمُwith them
أَظَلَّهُم مِنكَ رُعبٌ واقِفٌ بِهِمُ
حَتّىuntil يُوافِقَaccords with فيهِمconcerning them رَأيَكَyour judgment القَدَرُfate
حَتّى يُوافِقَ فيهِم رَأيَكَ القَدَرُ
A dread from you has overshadowed them, staying with them,
Terror from you stands over them
Until fate accords with your judgment concerning them.
Until destiny concurs regarding them with your view.
أَمضىsharper مِنَthan المَوتِdeath يَعفوhe pardons عِندَwhen قُدرَتِهِhis power
أَمضى مِنَ المَوتِ يَعفو عِندَ قُدرَتِهِ
وَلَيسَand there is no لِلمَوتِfor death عَفوٌpardon حينَwhen يَقتَدِرُit has power
وَلَيسَ لِلمَوتِ عَفوٌ حينَ يَقتَدِرُ
Sharper than death, he pardons when he has power,
More terminal than death, pardoning when able,
And death has no pardon when it has power.
Death has no pardon when able to take.
ماnot إِنindeed رَمىcast بِالمُنىwith hopes فيin مُلكِهِhis realm طَمَعٌcovetousness
ما إِن رَمى بِالمُنى في مُلكِهِ طَمَعٌ
وَلاnor تَخَطّاهُpassed him by التَأيِيدُsupport وَالظَفَرُand victory
وَلا تَخَطّاهُ التَأيِيدُ وَالظَفَرُ
No covetousness has ever cast its hopes upon his realm,
Neither hope of gain nor elation of support
Nor have support and victory ever passed him by.
Shoot him in his kingdom. No victor but you.
Sol 6.1