دَمعٌtears جَرىflowed فَقَضىand discharged فيat الرَبعِthe dwelling ماوَجَباwhat was due
دَمعٌ جَرى فَقَضى في الرَبعِ ماوَجَبا
لِأَهلِهِto its people وَشَفىand healed أَنّىhow? وَلاand not كَرَباanguish
لِأَهلِهِ وَشَفى أَنّى وَلا كَرَبا
Tears flowed, paying at the dwelling what was due
Tears flowed, fulfilling the debt owed to the deserted camp,
To its people—but how could they heal? They soothed no anguish.
To its dwellers, bringing cure to grief, though sorrow did not fade.
عُجناwe turned aside فَأَذهَبَand it took away ماwhat أَبقىhad left الفِراقُseparation لَناfor us
عُجنا فَأَذهَبَ ما أَبقى الفِراقُ لَنا
مِنَof العُقولِreason وَماand did not رَدَّrestore الَّذيwhat ذَهَباhad gone
مِنَ العُقولِ وَما رَدَّ الَّذي ذَهَبا
We turned aside, and it took away what separation had left us
We halted there, and the ruins stripped away the wits
Of reason, yet did not restore what had gone.
That parting had spared, yet brought back nothing that was lost.
سَقَيتُهُI watered it عَبَراتٍtears ظَنَّهاit took them for مَطَراًrain
سَقَيتُهُ عَبَراتٍ ظَنَّها مَطَراً
سَوائِلاًflowing مِنfrom جُفونٍeyelids ظَنَّهاit took them for سُحُباclouds
سَوائِلاً مِن جُفونٍ ظَنَّها سُحُبا
I watered it with tears that it mistook for rain,
I watered the earth with tears it deemed to be rain,
Flowing from eyelids that it mistook for clouds.
Pouring from eyelids it mistook for storm-clouds.
دارُthe dwelling المُلِمِّof the visiting one لَهاbelonging to her طَيفٌa phantom تَهَدَّدَنيthreatened me
دارُ المُلِمِّ لَها طَيفٌ تَهَدَّدَني
لَيلاًat night فَماso not صَدَقَتtold the truth عَينيmy eye وَلاnor كَذَباdid it lie
لَيلاً فَما صَدَقَت عَيني وَلا كَذَبا
This is the dwelling of her whose visiting phantom threatened me
The home of the nightly visitor sends a phantom to menace me
By night; my eye was not truthful, nor did the phantom lie.
By night; my eye did not verify it, nor did the vision lie.
ناءَيتُهُI kept it distant فَدَناand it drew near أَدنَيتُهُI drew it close فَنَأىand it withdrew
ناءَيتُهُ فَدَنا أَدنَيتُهُ فَنَأى
جَمَّشتُهُI caressed it فَنَباand it recoiled قَبَّلتُهُI kissed it فَأَبىand it refused
جَمَّشتُهُ فَنَبا قَبَّلتُهُ فَأَبى
I kept it distant, and it drew near; I drew it close, and it withdrew.
I pushed it away and it drew near; I bade it near and it fled;
I caressed it, and it recoiled; I kissed it, and it refused.
I courted it, but it recoiled; I sought a kiss, and it refused.
هامَfell madly in love الفُؤادُthe heart بِأَعرابِيَّةٍwith a Bedouin woman سَكَنَتshe settled
هامَ الفُؤادُ بِأَعرابِيَّةٍ سَكَنَت
بَيتاًa tent مِنَof القَلبِthe heart لَمdid not تَمدُدstretch لَهُfor it طُنُباa tent-rope
بَيتاً مِنَ القَلبِ لَم تَمدُد لَهُ طُنُبا
The heart fell madly in love with a Bedouin woman who settled
My heart wanders lost for a Bedouin maid who has made her home
In a tent within the heart, though she stretched no tent-rope for it.
Within my heart, pitching a tent without need of rope or stake.
مَظلومَةُwronged القَدِّin figure فيin تَشبيهِهِlikening it غُصُناًa bough
مَظلومَةُ القَدِّ في تَشبيهِهِ غُصُناً
مَظلومَةُwronged الريقِin saliva فيin تَشبيهِهِlikening it ضَرَباthick white honey
مَظلومَةُ الريقِ في تَشبيهِهِ ضَرَبا
Her figure is wronged when it is compared to a bough;
Her figure is wronged when likened to the willow branch,
Her saliva is wronged when it is compared to thick white honey.
And her nectar is wronged when compared to honey’s sweet taste.
بَيضاءُfair-skinned تُطمِعُarouses desire فيماfor what تَحتَis beneath حُلَّتِهاher robe
بَيضاءُ تُطمِعُ فيما تَحتَ حُلَّتِها
وَعَزَّand proved elusive ذَلِكَthat مَطلوباًas something sought إِذاwhen طُلِباit was sought
وَعَزَّ ذَلِكَ مَطلوباً إِذا طُلِبا
Fair-skinned, she stirs desire for what lies beneath her robe,
A fair beauty, provoking desire for what lies beneath her robes,
Yet that, when sought, is difficult to attain.
Yet how mighty a prize, and how impossible to attain!
كَأَنَّهاas though she were الشَمسُthe sun يُعيِيbaffles كَفَّthe hand قابِضِهِof one grasping it
كَأَنَّها الشَمسُ يُعيِي كَفَّ قابِضِهِ
شُعاعُهاits radiance وَيَراهُand sees it الطَرفُthe eye مُقتَرِباnearby
شُعاعُها وَيَراهُ الطَرفُ مُقتَرِبا
She is like the sun: the hand of one who would grasp it is baffled
She is like the sun: its rays weary the hand that tries to grasp,
By its radiance, though the eye sees it close at hand.
While the eye beholds it seeming near, yet forever far.
مَرَّتshe passed بِناby us بَينَbetween تِربَيهاher two age-mates فَقُلتُand I said لَهاto her
مَرَّت بِنا بَينَ تِربَيها فَقُلتُ لَها
مِنfrom أَينَwhere جانَسَbecame akin to هَذاthis الشادِنُyoung gazelle العَرَباthe Arabs
مِن أَينَ جانَسَ هَذا الشادِنُ العَرَبا
She passed us between her two age-mates, and I said to her,
She passed us between her two companions, and I asked her:
'How did this young gazelle come to be kin to the Arabs?'
"From where does this wild gazelle claim kinship with the Arabs?"
فَاِستَضحَكَتso she burst out laughing ثُمَّthen قالَتshe said كَالمُغيثِlike al-Mughith يُرىis seen
فَاِستَضحَكَت ثُمَّ قالَت كَالمُغيثِ يُرى
لَيثَthe lion الشَرىof al-Shara وَهوَthough he is مِنfrom عِجلٍIjl إِذاwhen اِنتَسَباhe traces his lineage
لَيثَ الشَرى وَهوَ مِن عِجلٍ إِذا اِنتَسَبا
She burst out laughing, then said, 'Just as al-Mughith is seen
She laughed, then replied: "Just as the Savior is seen to be"
As the lion of al-Shara, though by ancestry he belongs to Ijl.'
"A Lion of the thicket, though he traces his line to 'Ijl."
جاءَتshe brought بِأَشجَعَwith the bravest مَنof those who يُسمىare named وَأَسمَحَand the most generous مَنof those who
جاءَت بِأَشجَعَ مَن يُسمى وَأَسمَحَ مَن
أَعطىgave وَأَبلَغَand the most eloquent مَنof those who أَملىdictated وَمَنand those who كَتَباwrote
أَعطى وَأَبلَغَ مَن أَملى وَمَن كَتَبا
She invoked the bravest of named men, and the most generous who
Fate brought forth the bravest man ever named,
Ever gave, and the most eloquent of those who dictated and those who wrote.
The most generous who ever gave, the most eloquent who ever wrote.
لَوif حَلَّentered خاطِرُهُhis thought فيin مُقعَدٍa man unable to walk لَمَشىhe would walk
لَو حَلَّ خاطِرُهُ في مُقعَدٍ لَمَشى
أَوor جاهِلٍan ignorant man لَصَحاhe would regain his senses أَوor أَخرَسٍa mute man خَطَباhe would give an oration
أَو جاهِلٍ لَصَحا أَو أَخرَسٍ خَطَبا
If his thought entered a man unable to walk, he would walk;
If his spirit settled in a cripple, he would rise and walk,
Or an ignorant man, he would come to his senses; or a mute, he would give an oration.
Or in a fool, he would grow wise; or in a mute, he would orate.
إِذاwhen بَداhe appears حَجَبَتveils عَينَيكَyour two eyes هَيبَتُهُhis majesty
إِذا بَدا حَجَبَت عَينَيكَ هَيبَتُهُ
وَلَيسَand does not يَحجُبُهُconceal him سِترٌa curtain إِذاwhen اِحتَجَباhe secludes himself
وَلَيسَ يَحجُبُهُ سِترٌ إِذا اِحتَجَبا
When he appears, his majesty veils your eyes;
When he appears, his majesty veils your eyes from seeing him,
Yet no curtain conceals him when he secludes himself.
Yet no curtain can truly hide him when he chooses to withdraw.
بَياضُwhiteness وَجهٍof a face يُريكَmakes you see الشَمسَthe sun حالِكَةًpitch-black
بَياضُ وَجهٍ يُريكَ الشَمسَ حالِكَةً
وَدُرُّand pearls لَفظٍof speech يُريكَmake you see الدُرَّpearls مَخشَلَباglass beads
وَدُرُّ لَفظٍ يُريكَ الدُرَّ مَخشَلَبا
A face so white it makes the sun seem pitch-black,
A brightness of face that makes the sun look pitch black,
And pearls of speech that make pearls seem mere glass beads;
And pearls of speech that make real pearls seem like cheap glass.
وَسَيفُand a sword عَزمٍof resolve تَرُدُّreturns السَيفَthe sword هِبَّتُهُits onrush
وَسَيفُ عَزمٍ تَرُدُّ السَيفَ هِبَّتُهُ
رَطبَwet الغِرارِthe cutting edge مِنَfrom التَأمورِheart's blood مُختَضِباstained
رَطبَ الغِرارِ مِنَ التَأمورِ مُختَضِبا
And a sword of resolve whose onrush brings the sword back
His resolve is a blade; its mere brandishing turns back the sword,
With its edge wet, stained with heart's blood.
Leaving the steel edge wet, dyed red with the heart’s blood.
عُمرُthe lifespan العَدوِّof the enemy إِذاwhen لاقاهُhe meets him فيamid رَهَجٍbattle-dust
عُمرُ العَدوِّ إِذا لاقاهُ في رَهَجٍ
أَقَلُّshorter مِنthan عُمرِthe lifespan ماof what يَحويhe owns إِذاwhen وَهَباhe gives
أَقَلُّ مِن عُمرِ ما يَحوي إِذا وَهَبا
An enemy's life, when he meets him in battle-dust,
The life of a foe who meets him in the dust of battle
Is shorter than the life of what he owns when he gives it away.
Is more fleeting than the wealth he holds before giving it away.
تَوَقَّهُbeware of him فَمَتىso whenever ماever شِئتَyou wish تَبلُوَهُto test him
تَوَقَّهُ فَمَتى ما شِئتَ تَبلُوَهُ
فَكُنthen be مُعادِيَهُhis enemy أَوor كُنbe لَهُfor him نَشَباwealth
فَكُن مُعادِيَهُ أَو كُن لَهُ نَشَبا
Beware of him; whenever you wish to test him,
Beware of him! But if you wish to put him to the test,
Be his enemy, or be wealth in his possession.
Either become his enemy, or be a treasure he possesses.
تَحلوis sweet مَذاقَتُهُhis savor حَتّىuntil إِذاwhen غَضِباhe grows angry
تَحلو مَذاقَتُهُ حَتّى إِذا غَضِبا
حالَتit changes فَلَوthen if قَطَرَتit dripped فيinto الماءِthe water ماnot شُرِباcould be drunk
حالَت فَلَو قَطَرَت في الماءِ ما شُرِبا
His savor is sweet until he grows angry,
His taste is sweet and pleasant, but when his anger stirs,
Then it changes: were it to drip into water, that water could not be drunk.
It transforms; if a drop fell in water, none could drink it.
وَتَغبِطُand covets the fortune of الأَرضُthe earth مِنهاof itself حَيثُwhere حَلَّhe settles بِهِin it
وَتَغبِطُ الأَرضُ مِنها حَيثُ حَلَّ بِهِ
وَتَحسُدُand envy الخَيلُthe horses مِنهاamong them أَيَّهاwhichever of them رَكِباhe rides
وَتَحسُدُ الخَيلُ مِنها أَيَّها رَكِبا
And the earth covets the fortune of the spot within it where he settles,
The earth rejoices in the spot where he alights,
And horses envy whichever of them he rides.
And the horses envy the one among them that he rides.
وَلاand does not يَرُدُّturn back بِفيهِwith his mouth كَفَّthe hand سائِلِهِof his petitioner
وَلا يَرُدُّ بِفيهِ كَفَّ سائِلِهِ
عَنaway from نَفسِهِhimself وَيَرُدُّand repels الجَحفَلَthe great host اللَجِباthe clamorous
عَن نَفسِهِ وَيَرُدُّ الجَحفَلَ اللَجِبا
And with his mouth he does not turn his petitioner's hand
He never turns away a beggar's hand with a verbal refusal,
Away from himself, though he repels a clamorous host.
Yet he turns back the clamorous army single-handedly.
وَكُلَّماand whenever لَقِيَmeets الدينارُthe dinar صاحِبَهُits fellow
وَكُلَّما لَقِيَ الدينارُ صاحِبَهُ
فيin مُلكِهِhis possession اِفتَرَقاthe two part مِنfrom قَبلِbefore يَصطَحِباthey become companions
في مُلكِهِ اِفتَرَقا مِن قَبلِ يَصطَحِبا
And whenever a dinar meets its fellow
Whenever one gold coin meets another in his palm,
In his possession, they part before they can become companions.
They are parted in charity before they can become companions.
مالٌwealth كَأَنَّas though غُرابَthe raven البَينِof parting يَرقُبُهُwatches it
مالٌ كَأَنَّ غُرابَ البَينِ يَرقُبُهُ
فَكُلَّماso whenever قيلَit is said هَذاthis is مُجتَدٍa seeker of gifts نَعَباit caws
فَكُلَّما قيلَ هَذا مُجتَدٍ نَعَبا
Wealth, as though the raven of parting were watching it;
It is wealth watched over by the raven of separation:
Whenever someone says, 'Here is a seeker of gifts,' it caws.
Whenever a supplicant appears, the raven croaks its doom.
بَحرٌa sea عَجائِبُهُits marvels لَمdid not تُبقِleave فيin سَمَرٍevening tales
بَحرٌ عَجائِبُهُ لَم تُبقِ في سَمَرٍ
وَلاnor عَجائِبِthe marvels بَحرٍof a sea بَعدَهاafter them عَجَباany wonder
وَلا عَجائِبِ بَحرٍ بَعدَها عَجَبا
A sea whose marvels have left, in evening tales
He is a sea whose wonders have left no room in night-tales,
Or in the marvels of any sea, no further cause for wonder.
Nor in the marvels of the ocean, for any other wonder.
لاdoes not يُقنِعُsatisfy اِبنَthe son عَليٍّof Ali نَيلُattaining مَنزِلَةٍa rank
لا يُقنِعُ اِبنَ عَليٍّ نَيلُ مَنزِلَةٍ
يَشكوcomplains of مُحاوِلُهاits pursuer التَقصيرَfalling short وَالتَعَباand fatigue
يَشكو مُحاوِلُها التَقصيرَ وَالتَعَبا
Ibn Ali is not content to attain a rank
Ibn Ali is not satisfied by attaining a mere rank
Whose pursuer complains of falling short and fatigue.
Where the aspirant complains of failure and fatigue.
هَزَّwaved اللِواءَthe banner بَنوthe sons عِجلٍof Ijl بِهِthrough him فَغَداso he became
هَزَّ اللِواءَ بَنو عِجلٍ بِهِ فَغَدا
رَأساًa head لَهُمfor them وَغَداand became كُلٌّeveryone لَهُمfor them ذَنَباa tail
رَأساً لَهُم وَغَدا كُلٌّ لَهُم ذَنَبا
The sons of Ijl waved the banner through him, and he became
The Banu 'Ijl raised the banner with him, and he became
Their head, while all others became their tail.
A head for them, while all others became their tail.
التارِكينَthose who abandon مِنَamong الأَشياءِthings أَهوَنَهاthe easiest of them
التارِكينَ مِنَ الأَشياءِ أَهوَنَها
وَالراكِبينَand those who ride into مِنَamong الأَشياءِthings ماwhat صَعُباis difficult
وَالراكِبينَ مِنَ الأَشياءِ ما صَعُبا
Those who abandon the easiest of things
Men who leave aside the easiest of things,
And ride into whatever is difficult;
And mount the saddle of only the hardest tasks.
مُبَرقِعيthose veiling خَيلِهِمtheir horses بِالبيضِwith bright swords مُتَّخِذيthose making
مُبَرقِعي خَيلِهِم بِالبيضِ مُتَّخِذي
هامِheads الكُماةِof armored warriors عَلىupon أَرماحِهِمtheir spears عَذَباtassels
هامِ الكُماةِ عَلى أَرماحِهِم عَذَبا
Veiling their horses with bright swords, making
They veil their horses’ faces with flashing swords,
Armored warriors' heads tassels upon their spears.
And make the heads of warriors tassels for their spears.
إِنَّindeed المَنِيَّةَdeath لَوif لاقَتهُمُshe met them وَقَفَتshe would halt
إِنَّ المَنِيَّةَ لَو لاقَتهُمُ وَقَفَت
خَرقاءَbewildered تَتَّهِمُmistrusting الإِقدامَadvance وَالهَرَباand flight
خَرقاءَ تَتَّهِمُ الإِقدامَ وَالهَرَبا
Indeed, if Death met them, she would halt
If Death itself were to meet them, it would stand still,
Bewildered, mistrusting both advance and flight.
Confused, unsure whether to advance or to flee.
مَراتِبٌranks صَعِدَتrose وَالفِكرُand thought يَتبَعُهاfollows them
مَراتِبٌ صَعِدَت وَالفِكرُ يَتبَعُها
فَجازَthen it passed وَهوَwhile it was عَلىupon آثارِهاtheir tracks الشُهُباthe bright stars
فَجازَ وَهوَ عَلى آثارِها الشُهُبا
Ranks that rose, with thought following them,
Ranks he ascended while thought trailed behind,
And, on their trail, it passed the bright stars.
Surpassing the stars even as he followed their tracks.
مَحامِدٌpraiseworthy merits نَزَفَتdrew off شِعريmy poetry لِيَملَأَهاso it might fill them
مَحامِدٌ نَزَفَت شِعري لِيَملَأَها
فَآلَso it came to this ماnot اِمتَلَأَتthey were filled مِنهُfrom it وَلاnor نَضَباdid it run dry
فَآلَ ما اِمتَلَأَت مِنهُ وَلا نَضَبا
Merits that drew upon my poetry, that it might fill them,
Virtues that drained my poetry to describe them,
Yet in the end they were not filled by it, nor did it run dry.
Yet they were not filled, nor did my well run dry.
مَكارِمٌnoble deeds لَكَof yours فُتَّyou outstripped العالَمينَall the world بِهاthrough them
مَكارِمٌ لَكَ فُتَّ العالَمينَ بِها
مَنwho يَستَطيعُcan لِأَمرٍfor something فائِتٍbeyond reach طَلَباpursuit
مَن يَستَطيعُ لِأَمرٍ فائِتٍ طَلَبا
Noble deeds of yours, by which you outstripped all the world;
Noble traits by which you have outstripped all worlds;
Who can pursue what has passed beyond reach?
Who can chase a thing that has already flown beyond reach?
لَمّاwhen أَقَمتَyou settled بِإِنطاكِيَّةَin Antioch اِختَلَفَتcame in succession
لَمّا أَقَمتَ بِإِنطاكِيَّةَ اِختَلَفَت
إِلَيَّto me بِالخَبَرِwith the news الرُكبانُthe riders فيin حَلَباAleppo
إِلَيَّ بِالخَبَرِ الرُكبانُ في حَلَبا
When you settled in Antioch, there came in succession
When you took up residence in Antioch, riders
To me in Aleppo riders bringing the news.
Came back and forth to me in Aleppo with the news.
فَسِرتُso I journeyed نَحوَكَtoward you لاnot أَلويturn aside عَلىfor أَحَدٍanyone
فَسِرتُ نَحوَكَ لا أَلوي عَلى أَحَدٍ
أَحُثُّI urge on راحِلَتَيَّmy two mounts الفَقرَpoverty وَالأَدَباand literary learning
أَحُثُّ راحِلَتَيَّ الفَقرَ وَالأَدَبا
So I journeyed toward you, turning aside for no one,
So I journeyed toward you, turning for no one,
Urging on my two mounts, poverty and literary learning.
Spurring on my two mounts: Poverty and Poetry.
أَذاقَنيmade me taste زَمَنيmy time بَلوىan ordeal شَرِقتُI choked بِهاon it
أَذاقَني زَمَني بَلوى شَرِقتُ بِها
لَوif ذاقَهاit tasted it لَبَكىit would weep ماas long as عاشَit lived وَاِنتَحَباand sob
لَو ذاقَها لَبَكى ما عاشَ وَاِنتَحَبا
My time made me taste an ordeal that I choked on;
Fate made me taste a trial that choked my breath;
Had it tasted it, it would have wept and sobbed as long as it lived.
Had Fate tasted it, it would have wept and wailed forever.
وَإِنand if عَمَرتُI live on جَعَلتُI shall make الحَربَwar والِدَةًa mother
وَإِن عَمَرتُ جَعَلتُ الحَربَ والِدَةً
وَالسَمهَرِيَّand the Samhari spear أَخاًa brother وَالمَشرَفِيَّand the Mashrafi sword أَباa father
وَالسَمهَرِيَّ أَخاً وَالمَشرَفِيَّ أَبا
And if I live on, I shall make war my mother,
If I live on, I shall make War my mother,
The Samhari spear my brother, and the Mashrafi sword my father;
The spear my brother, and the sword my father.
بِكُلِّwith every أَشعَثَdisheveled man يَلقىmeets المَوتَdeath مُبتَسِماًsmiling
بِكُلِّ أَشعَثَ يَلقى المَوتَ مُبتَسِماً
حَتّىso that كَأَنَّas though لَهُhe has فيin قَتلِهِhis being slain أَرَباa desire
حَتّى كَأَنَّ لَهُ في قَتلِهِ أَرَبا
With every disheveled warrior who meets death smiling,
Alongside every wild warrior who meets death with a smile,
So that he seems to have a desire to be slain.
As if he found some heart’s desire in being slain.
قُحٍّof pure stock يَكادُnearly صَهيلُthe neighing الخَيلِof horses يَقذِفُهُflings him
قُحٍّ يَكادُ صَهيلُ الخَيلِ يَقذِفُهُ
عَنoff سَرجِهِhis saddle مَرَحاًin delight بِالغَزوِat raiding أَوor طَرَباin rapture
عَن سَرجِهِ مَرَحاً بِالغَزوِ أَو طَرَبا
A man of pure stock, whom horses' neighing nearly flings
A purebred knight, whom the horses’ neighing almost casts
From his saddle, in delight at raiding or in rapture.
From his saddle, for sheer joy and delight in the raid.
فَالمَوتُso death أَعذَرُmore excusable ليfor me وَالصَبرُand patience أَجمَلُmore becoming بيto me
فَالمَوتُ أَعذَرُ لي وَالصَبرُ أَجمَلُ بي
وَالبَرُّand the open land أَوسَعُwider وَالدُنياand the world لِمَنfor whoever غَلَباprevails
وَالبَرُّ أَوسَعُ وَالدُنيا لِمَن غَلَبا
So death is more excusable for me, and patience more becoming to me;
Death is a better excuse for me, and patience suits me best,
And the open land is wider, and the world belongs to whoever prevails.
The wild is vast, and the world belongs to him who conquers.
Sol 6.1