جَلَلاًimmense كَماlike what بِيَin me فَليَكُso let it be التَبريحُtorment
جَلَلاً كَما بِيَ فَليَكُ التَبريحُ
أَغِذاءُis ... the food of? ذاthis الرَشَأِyoung gazelle الأَغَنِّnasal-voiced الشيحُwormwood
أَغِذاءُ ذا الرَشَأِ الأَغَنِّ الشيحُ
Let torment be immense, like what afflicts me!
Glory as my house, so let there be congratulations,
Let the torment be vast, just as my suffering is vast;
Is wormwood the food of this soft-voiced fawn?
Food for the one with a flowing beard and melody,
Is wormwood the nourishment of this fawn with the melodious voice?
لَعِبَتplayed بِمِشيَتِهِwith his gait الشُمولُwine وَغادَرَتand left
لَعِبَت بِمِشيَتِهِ الشُمولُ وَغادَرَت
صَنَماًan idol مِنَamong الأَصنامِthe idols لَولاbut for الروحُthe soul
صَنَماً مِنَ الأَصنامِ لَولا الروحُ
Wine has toyed with his gait and left him
Destiny played with its inclusiveness and left
Wine has toyed with his gait, making him sway,
An idol among idols, but for his soul.
An idol among idols, had it not been for the spirit,
Like a carved idol he would be, were it not for the spirit within.
ماwhat بالُهُhis condition لاحَظتُهُI glanced at him فَتَضَرَّجَتthen became crimson
ما بالُهُ لاحَظتُهُ فَتَضَرَّجَت
وَجَناتُهُhis cheeks وَفُؤادِيَand my heart المَجروحُwounded
وَجَناتُهُ وَفُؤادِيَ المَجروحُ
What ails him? I glanced at him, and crimson suffused
What is wrong with him? I noticed him blushing,
Why is it that when I glanced at him, a crimson flush
His cheeks and my wounded heart.
While his gardens and my wounded heart,
Covered his cheeks, while my own wounded heart bled?
وَرَمىand he shot وَماthough not رَمَتاshot (both) يَداهُhis two hands فَصابَنيthen struck me
وَرَمى وَما رَمَتا يَداهُ فَصابَني
سَهمٌan arrow يُعَذِّبُtorments وَالسِهامُwhile arrows تُريحُbring relief
سَهمٌ يُعَذِّبُ وَالسِهامُ تُريحُ
He shot, though his two hands did not, and I was struck by
He shot his arrows but his hands did not aim at me,
He struck—though his hands released no shaft—and I was pierced
An arrow that torments, while arrows bring rest.
An arrow that hurts while arrows give comfort,
By an arrow that tortures, whereas arrows of war bring rest.
قَرُبَis near المَزارُthe visiting-place وَلاyet no مَزارَvisit وَإِنَّماand only
قَرُبَ المَزارُ وَلا مَزارَ وَإِنَّما
يَغدوgoes forth at dawn الجِنانُthe heart فَنَلتَقيso we meet وَيَروحُand returns at dusk
يَغدو الجِنانُ فَنَلتَقي وَيَروحُ
The meeting-place is near, yet there is no visit; only
The shrine is near but no shrine, rather
The meeting place is near, yet no meeting is granted;
The heart goes out at dawn; we meet, and it returns at dusk.
The gardens where we meet then part,
Only my imagination travels there, so we meet, then he departs.
وَفَشَتand spread سَرائِرُناour secrets إِلَيكَto you وَشَفَّناand wore us thin
وَفَشَت سَرائِرُنا إِلَيكَ وَشَفَّنا
تَعريضُناour hinting فَبَداso became apparent لَكَto you التَصريحُopen avowal
تَعريضُنا فَبَدا لَكَ التَصريحُ
And our secrets reached you, and we were worn thin by
Our secrets were exposed to you and our
Our secrets have spread to you, and we are worn thin
Our hints; thus open avowal became plain to you.
Allusions appeared clear to you,
By mere hints, until the plain truth stood revealed to you.
لَمّاwhen تَقَطَّعَتِsplit apart الحُمولُthe laden camels تَقَطَّعَتwas torn apart
لَمّا تَقَطَّعَتِ الحُمولُ تَقَطَّعَت
نَفسيmy soul أَسىًwith grief وَكَأَنَّهُنَّand as though they were طُلوحُacacia trees
نَفسي أَسىً وَكَأَنَّهُنَّ طُلوحُ
When the laden camels parted, torn apart was
When the camels were cut off my soul was cut off,
When the caravan departed, severing ties, my soul was severed
My soul with grief, as though they were acacia trees.
As if they were my family, and torn apart,
With grief, as though the camels bore a fatal omen.
وَجَلاand revealed الوَداعُfarewell مِنَfrom الحَبيبِthe beloved مَحاسِناًbeauties
وَجَلا الوَداعُ مِنَ الحَبيبِ مَحاسِناً
حُسنُthe grace of العَزاءِconsolation وَقَدand already جُلينَthey were unveiled قَبيحُugly
حُسنُ العَزاءِ وَقَد جُلينَ قَبيحُ
And farewell unveiled beauties in the beloved;
Farewell revealed from the beloved, virtues
The farewell unveiled such beauties in the beloved,
Graceful consolation, with those unveiled, is ugly.
The beauty of consolation, though the ugly appears,
That seeking solace, in the face of such sights, seemed a sin.
فَيَدٌso a hand مُسَلِّمَةٌbidding farewell وَطَرفٌand a gaze شاخِصٌfixed
فَيَدٌ مُسَلِّمَةٌ وَطَرفٌ شاخِصٌ
وَحَشىًand a heart يَذوبُmelts وَمَدمَعٌand a stream of tears مَسفوحُpoured out
وَحَشىً يَذوبُ وَمَدمَعٌ مَسفوحُ
So a hand bidding farewell, and a fixed gaze,
A hand waving, an eye glancing,
A hand waving peace, an eye fixed in a stare,
And a melting heart, and a stream of tears poured out.
Yearning melting, and pouring tears,
A heart melting within, and tears pouring down.
يَجِدُfeels longing الحَمامُthe doves وَلَوand if كَوَجديlike my longing لَاِنبَرىwould set about
يَجِدُ الحَمامُ وَلَو كَوَجدي لَاِنبَرى
شَجَرُthe trees of الأَراكِarak مَعَwith الحَمامِthe doves يَنوحُlamenting
شَجَرُ الأَراكِ مَعَ الحَمامِ يَنوحُ
The doves yearn; were their yearning like mine, there would rise
The doves would lament even if my lament was absent
The dove feels sorrow, but were its passion like mine,
The arak trees, lamenting along with the doves.
The lotus tree would mourn with the doves,
The very Arak trees would wail alongside the bird.
وَأَمَقَّand a vast desert لَوif خَدَتِtrotted swiftly الشَمالُthe north wind بِراكِبٍwith a rider
وَأَمَقَّ لَو خَدَتِ الشَمالُ بِراكِبٍ
فيacross عَرضِهِits breadth لَأَناخَhe would make her kneel وَهيَwhile she طَليحُexhausted
في عَرضِهِ لَأَناخَ وَهيَ طَليحُ
And a vast desert: if the north wind trotted with a rider
It leaned if the north blew on a rider
Many a barren wasteland—if the North Wind raced a rider
Across its breadth, he would make her kneel, exhausted.
On its expanse, it would rest while the winds blow,
Across its breadth, he would rest while the wind collapsed in fatigue.
نازَعتُهُI contended with it قُلَصَyoung she-camels الرِكابِthe riding-camels وَرَكبُهاand their riders
نازَعتُهُ قُلَصَ الرِكابِ وَرَكبُها
خَوفَfor fear of الهَلاكِdeath حُداهُمُtheir camel-driving chant التَسبيحُglorifying God
خَوفَ الهَلاكِ حُداهُمُ التَسبيحُ
I pitted young riding-camels against it; their riders,
I competed with the trotting of the riders and rode
I challenged the waste with lean camels, while their riders,
Fearing death, had God's praises for their camel-song.
Fearing death, praising God made them slow,
Fearing destruction, made prayer their only caravan song.
لَولاbut for الأَمينُthe trustworthy one مُساوِرُMusawir بنُson of مُحَمَّدٍMuhammad
لَولا الأَمينُ مُساوِرُ بنُ مُحَمَّدٍ
ماnot جُشِّمَتwere made to endure خَطَراًdanger وَرُدَّand was rebuffed نَصيحُa sincere adviser
ما جُشِّمَت خَطَراً وَرُدَّ نَصيحُ
But for the trustworthy Musawir ibn Muhammad,
Had it not been for the trusted one, the son of Muhammad
Were it not for the Trustee, Musawir ibn Muhammad,
They would not have been made to brave danger, nor a sincere adviser rebuffed.
No danger would have been predicted or advice given,
No risk would be run, and the cautious advisor would be heeded.
وَمَتىand whenever وَنَتthey flagged وَأَبوwhile Abu المُظَفَّرِal-Muzaffar أَمُّهاtheir destination
وَمَتى وَنَت وَأَبو المُظَفَّرِ أَمُّها
فَأَتاحَthen may he grant ليto me وَلَهاand to them الحِمامَdeath مُتيحُa disposer of fate
فَأَتاحَ لي وَلَها الحِمامَ مُتيحُ
And if they ever flag, with Abu al-Muzaffar as their goal,
Whenever soft nor strong wind blew
But when they flagged, with Abu al-Muzaffar as their goal,
Then may a disposer of fate grant death to me and them.
It allowed me and her the doves a place to go,
Only the Decree of Death could determine our fate.
شِمناwe watched وَماthough not حُجِبَwas veiled السَماءُthe sky بُروقَهُhis lightning flashes
شِمنا وَما حُجِبَ السَماءُ بُروقَهُ
وَحَرىًand worthy to يَجودُpour forth bounty وَماthough not مَرَتهُmilked him الريحُthe wind
وَحَرىً يَجودُ وَما مَرَتهُ الريحُ
We watched his lightning, though the sky was not veiled;
We sensed it before the sky clouded with its lightning
We watched his lightning—unveiled by any sky—
And well may he pour bounty, though no wind has milked him.
And the free-flowing generosity before the winds blow,
A rain-cloud pouring freely, though no wind milked it dry.
مَرجُوُّhoped for مَنفَعَةٍbenefit مَخوفُfeared أَذِيَّةٍharm
مَرجُوُّ مَنفَعَةٍ مَخوفُ أَذِيَّةٍ
مَغبوقُserved an evening drink كاسِa cup of مَحامِدٍpraises مَصبوحُserved a morning drink
مَغبوقُ كاسِ مَحامِدٍ مَصبوحُ
His favors are hoped for, his harm is feared;
Hoping for benefit, fearing harm,
Hoped for in benefit, feared for his might,
He is served a cup of praises at evening and at morning.
Defeated, the cup of glory poured out,
Drinking the cup of praises at evening and at dawn.
حَنِقٌwrathful عَلىat بِدَرِbags of اللُجَينِsilver وَماthough not أَتَتcommitted
حَنِقٌ عَلى بِدَرِ اللُجَينِ وَما أَتَت
بِإِساءَةٍany wrongdoing وَعَنِand toward المُسيءِthe wrongdoer صَفوحُforgiving
بِإِساءَةٍ وَعَنِ المُسيءِ صَفوحُ
He rages at bags of silver, though they have done
Angry at the full moon that brought no harm
He holds a grudge against bags of silver, though they committed
No wrong, yet forgives the wrongdoer.
And forgiving the one who wronged me,
No offense; yet he forgives the sinner while casting the silver away.
لَوif فُرِّقَwere divided الكَرَمُthe generosity المُفَرِّقُthat distributes مالَهُhis wealth
لَو فُرِّقَ الكَرَمُ المُفَرِّقُ مالَهُ
فيamong الناسِpeople لَمnot يَكُbe فيin الزَمانِthe age شَحيحُa miser
في الناسِ لَم يَكُ في الزَمانِ شَحيحُ
If the generosity that scatters his wealth were divided
Had he divided the generosity that divided his money
If the generosity that scatters his wealth were shared
Among people, there would be no miser in the age.
Among the people, none would be stingy,
Among mankind, no miser would remain in all the world.
أَلغَتdisregarded مَسامِعُهُhis ears المَلامَreproach وَغادَرَتand left
أَلغَت مَسامِعُهُ المَلامَ وَغادَرَت
سِمَةًa brand عَلىupon أَنفِthe nose of اللِئامِthe base تَلوحُplainly visible
سِمَةً عَلى أَنفِ اللِئامِ تَلوحُ
His ears dismissed reproach, and left
His hearing ignored blame and left
His ears have deafened themselves to rebuke, leaving
A brand on the noses of the base, plain to see.
A mark on the faces of villains that still show,
A brand of shame visible upon the noses of the vile.
هَذاthis الَّذيthe one who خَلَتِpassed القُرونُthe ages وَذِكرُهُwhile his renown
هَذا الَّذي خَلَتِ القُرونُ وَذِكرُهُ
وَحَديثُهُand his story فيin كُتبِهاtheir books مَشروحُset forth
وَحَديثُهُ في كُتبِها مَشروحُ
This is he: ages have passed, while his renown
This is the one, time passed and his mention
This is he, whose fame outlasts the passing centuries,
And his story stand set forth in their books.
And story in its books still overflow,
His story expounded upon in the chronicles of time.
أَلبابُناour minds بِجَمالِهِby his beauty مَبهورَةٌdazzled
أَلبابُنا بِجَمالِهِ مَبهورَةٌ
وَسَحابُناand our clouds بِنَوالِهِby his bounty مَفضوحُput to shame
وَسَحابُنا بِنَوالِهِ مَفضوحُ
Our minds are dazzled by his beauty;
Our minds dazzled by his beauty
Our intellects are dazzled by his splendor,
And our clouds are shamed by his bounty.
Our clouds opened by his irrigation flow,
And our rain-clouds are put to shame by his gifts.
يَغشىenters الطِعانَspear-combat فَلاand does not يَرُدُّbring back قَناتَهُhis lance
يَغشى الطِعانَ فَلا يَرُدُّ قَناتَهُ
مَكسورَةًbroken وَمِنَwhile among الكُماةِthe armored warriors صَحيحُone unhurt
مَكسورَةً وَمِنَ الكُماةِ صَحيحُ
He plunges into spear-combat, and does not bring back his lance
He covers the skeptic so his irrigation channel is not
He plunges into the fray and withdraws not his spear
Broken while any armored champion remains unhurt.
Returned broken, and the silent are made whole,
Broken, so long as a single warrior remains standing.
وَعَلىand upon التُرابِthe earth مِنَof الدِماءِblood مَجاسِدٌcrimson garments
وَعَلى التُرابِ مِنَ الدِماءِ مَجاسِدٌ
وَعَلىand upon السَماءِthe sky مِنَof العَجاجِswirling dust مُسوحُhaircloth garments
وَعَلى السَماءِ مِنَ العَجاجِ مُسوحُ
And upon the earth are crimson robes of blood,
On dust, corpses from blood, while on the sky
Upon the dust, bodies lie clad in crimson blood,
And upon the sky, sackcloths of swirling dust.
Erased marks from fighting still show,
While the sky wears a sackcloth of rising dust.
يَخطوsteps over القَتيلَthe slain man إِلىtoward القَتيلِthe slain man أَمامَهُbefore him
يَخطو القَتيلَ إِلى القَتيلِ أَمامَهُ
رَبُّthe master of الجَوادِthe steed وَخَلفَهُand behind him المَبطوحُthe fallen man
رَبُّ الجَوادِ وَخَلفَهُ المَبطوحُ
Over one slain man toward another before him strides
The slain walks to the slain ahead of him
He steps over one corpse to reach the next before him,
The master of the steed, with the fallen behind him.
The lord of generosity, while the fallen behind him lie low,
Master of the steed, leaving the fallen in his wake.
فَمَقيلُso the resting place of حُبِّthe love of مُحِبِّهِhis admirer فَرِحٌrejoicing بِهِin him
فَمَقيلُ حُبِّ مُحِبِّهِ فَرِحٌ بِهِ
وَمَقيلُand the resting place of غَيظِthe rage of عَدُوِّهِhis enemy مَقروحُwounded
وَمَقيلُ غَيظِ عَدُوِّهِ مَقروحُ
So the resting place of his admirer's love rejoices in him;
So the place of loving lover is delighted with him
The heart where his lover's affection rests is joyous,
And the resting place of his enemy's rage is wounded.
While the place of the angry enemy is struck with woe,
While the heart holding his enemy's rage is ulcerated.
يُخفيhe conceals العَداوَةَenmity وَهيَthough it غَيرُnot خَفِيَّةٍhidden
يُخفي العَداوَةَ وَهيَ غَيرُ خَفِيَّةٍ
نَظَرُthe gaze of العُدُوِّthe enemy بِماabout what أَسَرَّhe kept secret يَبوحُspeaks openly
نَظَرُ العُدُوِّ بِما أَسَرَّ يَبوحُ
He hides his enmity, though it is not hidden;
He hides his enmity though it is not hidden
The foe conceals hatred, yet it is plainly seen;
The enemy's gaze divulges what he keeps secret.
The look of the enemy reveals what he would hide,
For the enemy's glance betrays what he hides within.
ياO اِبنَson of الَّذيthe one whose ماnot ضَمَّenclosed بُردٌa cloak كَاِبنِهِone like his son
يا اِبنَ الَّذي ما ضَمَّ بُردٌ كَاِبنِهِ
شَرَفاًin nobility وَلاnor كَالجَدِّone like the grandfather ضَمَّenclosed ضَريحُa tomb
شَرَفاً وَلا كَالجَدِّ ضَمَّ ضَريحُ
O son of one whose son's equal no cloak has enclosed
Oh son of one who did not gather with his son
O son of him who never wrapped a cloak around a son
In nobility, nor has a tomb enclosed the grandfather's equal.
Nobility, nor did the grandfather gather the grave,
Of such honor, nor did a tomb embrace a grandsire so great.
نَفديكَwe would ransom you مِنas a سَيلٍtorrent إِذاwhen سُئِلَis requested النَدىgenerosity
نَفديكَ مِن سَيلٍ إِذا سُئِلَ النَدى
هَولٍa terror إِذاwhen اِختَلَطاthe two mingle دَمٌblood وَمَسيحُand sweat
هَولٍ إِذا اِختَلَطا دَمٌ وَمَسيحُ
We would be your ransom—a torrent when bounty is sought,
We would sacrifice ourselves against a flood if asked for help,
We ransom you—a torrent when generosity is sought,
A terror when blood and sweat mingle.
Against horror when blood and Messiah mix,
A terror when blood and sweat mingle in the fray.
لَوif كُنتَyou were بَحراًa sea لَمnot يَكُنbe لَكَfor you ساحِلٌa shore
لَو كُنتَ بَحراً لَم يَكُن لَكَ ساحِلٌ
أَوor كُنتَyou were غَيثاًrain ضاقَwould be too narrow عَنكَfor you اللوحُthe open air
أَو كُنتَ غَيثاً ضاقَ عَنكَ اللوحُ
If you were a sea, you would have no shore;
Had you been an ocean no coast contained you,
Were you a sea, you would have no shore;
Or were you rain, the open air would be too narrow to hold you.
Or a rain, the horizon would be too narrow,
Were you rain, the vast horizon could not hold you.
وَخَشيتُand I would fear مِنكَfrom you عَلىfor البِلادِthe lands وَأَهلِهاand their people
وَخَشيتُ مِنكَ عَلى البِلادِ وَأَهلِها
ماwhat كانَhad أَنذَرَwarned قَومَthe people of نوحٍNoah نوحُNoah
ما كانَ أَنذَرَ قَومَ نوحٍ نوحُ
And I would fear you might bring upon the lands and their people
I feared for the country and its people because of you
I would fear for the lands and their people because of you—
What Noah once warned Noah's people of.
As Noah fearfully warned his folk long ago,
The very deluge that Noah warned his people against.
عَجزٌweakness بِحُرٍّin a noble man فاقَةٌpoverty وَوَراءَهُwhile behind him
عَجزٌ بِحُرٍّ فاقَةٌ وَوَراءَهُ
رِزقُthe provision of الإِلَهِGod وَبابَكَand your door المَفتوحُopen
رِزقُ الإِلَهِ وَبابَكَ المَفتوحُ
It is weakness for a noble man to suffer want, when behind him stand
Incapacity at confusion, beyond it,
It is helplessness for a free man to suffer want, when behind him
God's provision and your open door.
God’s provision and your open door,
Lies God's provision and your ever-open door.
إِنَّindeed القَريضَpoetry شَجٍsorrowful بِعِطفيat my side عائِذٌseeking refuge
إِنَّ القَريضَ شَجٍ بِعِطفي عائِذٌ
مِنfrom أَنthat يَكونَshould be سَواءَكَanyone but you المَمدوحُthe one praised
مِن أَن يَكونَ سَواءَكَ المَمدوحُ
Indeed, poetry, grieving, seeks refuge at my side,
This poem sorely needs your kindness
Poetry clings to my side, seeking refuge and choking,
Lest anyone other than you be the one praised.
To be your equal when praised, that is far too much to hope,
Lest anyone other than you be the subject of its praise.
وَذَكِيُّand the rich رائِحَةِfragrance of الرِياضِthe gardens كَلامُهاtheir speech
وَذَكِيُّ رائِحَةِ الرِياضِ كَلامُها
تَبغيthey seek الثَناءَpraise عَلىfor الحَياlife-giving rain فَتَفوحُand so waft fragrance
تَبغي الثَناءَ عَلى الحَيا فَتَفوحُ
And the gardens' rich fragrance is their speech;
The scent of the gardens, their words
Its words possess the fragrant scent of gardens;
They seek to praise the life-giving rain, and so waft their scent.
Seek praise of the living and thus diffuse,
Seeking to praise the rain, they waft their perfume.
جُهدُthe utmost effort of المُقِلِّone with little فَكَيفَthen how بِاِبنِabout a son of كَريمَةٍa noble woman
جُهدُ المُقِلِّ فَكَيفَ بِاِبنِ كَريمَةٍ
توليهِyou bestow on him خَيراًgood وَاللِسانُwhile the tongue فَصيحُeloquent
توليهِ خَيراً وَاللِسانُ فَصيحُ
The utmost of one with little—what, then, of a noble woman's son
The effort of the insignificant, so what about the son
This is the offering of one with little; so how will the noble son respond
Whom you favor with bounty, and whose tongue is eloquent?
Of a generous woman who gives him good speech,
When you bestow good upon him, and his tongue is eloquent?
Sol 6.1