ماnot الشَوقُlonging مُقتَنِعاًcontent مِنّيfrom me بِذاwith this الكَمَدِanguish
ما الشَوقُ مُقتَنِعاً مِنّي بِذا الكَمَدِ
حَتّىuntil أَكونَI am بِلاwithout قَلبٍa heart وَلاnor كَبِدِa liver
حَتّى أَكونَ بِلا قَلبٍ وَلا كَبِدِ
Longing is not content with this anguish of mine,
My longing is not satisfied with me in this condition,
Longing is not satisfied with this anguish I sustain,
Until I am without heart or liver.
Until I am without a heart or liver,
Until I am left without a heart, without a vital vein.
وَلاnor الدِيارُthe dwellings الَّتيwhich كانَwas الحَبيبُthe beloved بِهاin them
وَلا الدِيارُ الَّتي كانَ الحَبيبُ بِها
تَشكوcomplain إِلَيَّto me وَلاnor أَشكوI complain إِلىto أَحَدِanyone
تَشكو إِلَيَّ وَلا أَشكو إِلى أَحَدِ
Nor do the dwellings where the beloved once lived
Nor do the abodes where the beloved once was
Nor do the ruins, wherein the beloved used to dwell,
Complain to me, nor do I complain to anyone.
Complain to me, nor do I complain to anyone.
Complain to me, while I complain my pain to no one.
مازالَhas continued كُلُّevery هَزيمِroaring downpour الوَدقِthe rain يُنحِلُهاwastes them away
مازالَ كُلُّ هَزيمِ الوَدقِ يُنحِلُها
وَالسُقمُand sickness يُنحِلُنيwastes me away حَتّىuntil حَكَتthey resembled جَسَديmy body
وَالسُقمُ يُنحِلُني حَتّى حَكَت جَسَدي
Every roaring downpour has kept wasting them away,
Every evening star that rises continues to unsettle it,
The pouring rain continues to wear the stones away,
And sickness wastes me away, until they resemble my body.
And sickness unsettles me, until my body is etched.
While sickness wears me down until they mimic my decay.
وَكُلَّماand whenever فاضَoverflowed دَمعيmy tears غاضَebbed مُصطَبَريmy patience
وَكُلَّما فاضَ دَمعي غاضَ مُصطَبَري
كَأَنَّas though ماwhat سالَflowed مِنfrom جَفنَيَّmy two eyelids مِنfrom جَلَديmy fortitude
كَأَنَّ ما سالَ مِن جَفنَيَّ مِن جَلَدي
And whenever my tears overflow, my patience ebbs,
And whenever my tear flows, my patience ebbs,
Whenever my tears flood forth, my patience ebbs low,
As though what flows from my eyelids comes from my fortitude.
As if what flows from my eyelids is from my skin.
As if my very endurance streamed from my eyelids' flow.
فَأَينَwhere, then مِنfrom زَفَراتيmy sighs مَنthe one whom كَلِفتُI became enamored بِهِof him
فَأَينَ مِن زَفَراتي مَن كَلِفتُ بِهِ
وَأَينَand where مِنكَbeside you اِبنَson of يَحيىYahya صَولَةُthe charge الأَسَدِthe lion
وَأَينَ مِنكَ اِبنَ يَحيى صَولَةُ الأَسَدِ
How far from my sighs is the one I adore!
So where are my sighs for the one I was burdened with,
So where, amidst my burning sighs, is the one I adore?
And what is a lion's charge beside you, Ibn Yahya?
And where are you, O Ibn Yahya, boldness of the lion?
And where, O Ibn Yahya, is the lion's assault compared to yours?
لَمّاwhen وَزَنتُI weighed بِكَagainst you الدُنياthe world فَمِلتَthen you tipped the balance بِهاagainst it
لَمّا وَزَنتُ بِكَ الدُنيا فَمِلتَ بِها
وَبِالوَرىand against mankind قَلَّbecame small عِنديin my eyes كَثرَةُabundance العَدَدِthe number
وَبِالوَرى قَلَّ عِندي كَثرَةُ العَدَدِ
When I weighed the world against you, you outweighed it,
When I weighed you against the world, I was fed up with it,
When I weighed the world against you, you tipped the scale,
And against all mankind, their multitude seemed small to me.
And in my view, a multitude of people meant little.
And beside you, the multitudes of mankind seemed to fail.
ماnot دارَcrossed فيin خَلَدِthe mind الأَيّامِthe days ليfor me فَرَحٌjoy
ما دارَ في خَلَدِ الأَيّامِ لي فَرَحٌ
أَباO father of عُبادَةَUbada حَتّىuntil دُرتَyou crossed فيin خَلَديmy mind
أَبا عُبادَةَ حَتّى دُرتَ في خَلَدي
No joy for me ever crossed the mind of the days,
No joy has lasted in the eternity of days for me,
It never crossed the mind of Time to grant me delight,
Abu Ubada, until you crossed my mind.
Abu Ubadah, until you remained in my eternity.
O Abu Ubadah, until you crossed into my sight.
مَلكٌa king إِذاwhenever اِمتَلَأَتfilled up مالاًwith wealth خَزائِنُهُhis treasuries
مَلكٌ إِذا اِمتَلَأَت مالاً خَزائِنُهُ
أَذاقَهاhe made them taste طَعمَthe taste ثُكلِbereavement الأُمِّthe mother لِلوَلَدِfor the child
أَذاقَها طَعمَ ثُكلِ الأُمِّ لِلوَلَدِ
A king who, whenever his treasuries fill with wealth,
A king, when his treasuries are filled with wealth,
A king who, when his treasuries are filled with store,
Makes them taste a mother's grief at losing her child.
Makes them taste the flavor of a mother's compassion for her son.
Makes them taste the grief of a mother whose child is no more.
ماضيresolute الجَنانِthe heart يُريهِshows him الحَزمُprudence قَبلَbefore غَدٍtomorrow
ماضي الجَنانِ يُريهِ الحَزمُ قَبلَ غَدٍ
بِقَلبِهِthrough his heart ماwhat تَرىsee عَيناهُhis two eyes بَعدَafter غَدِtomorrow
بِقَلبِهِ ما تَرى عَيناهُ بَعدَ غَدِ
His heart is resolute; prudence shows him before tomorrow,
The wise man sees the past of his soul before tomorrow
Resolute of heart, his prudence reveals before the dawn,
Through his heart, what his eyes will see after tomorrow.
With his heart - not with what his eyes see after tomorrow.
Within his soul, what his eyes will see when the veil is drawn.
ماذاnot this البَهاءُthe splendor وَلاnor ذاthis النورُthe light مِنfrom بَشَرٍa mortal
ماذا البَهاءُ وَلا ذا النورُ مِن بَشَرٍ
وَلاnor السَماحُthe generosity الَّذيwhich فيهِin him سَماحُgenerosity يَدِa hand
وَلا السَماحُ الَّذي فيهِ سَماحُ يَدِ
Neither this splendor nor this radiance comes from a mortal,
What is this brilliance, and what is this light from a human,
This splendor and this light are not of human clay,
Nor is the generosity within him the generosity of a hand.
And what is this generosity in which is the generosity of hand?
Nor is this generosity mere giving in the common way.
أَيُّwhich الأَكُفِّthe hands تُباريrivals الغَيثَthe rain ماas long as اِتَّفَقاthe two met
أَيُّ الأَكُفِّ تُباري الغَيثَ ما اِتَّفَقا
حَتّىuntil إِذاwhen اِفتَرَقاthe two parted عادَتit returned وَلَمand did not يَعُدِreturn
حَتّى إِذا اِفتَرَقا عادَت وَلَم يَعُدِ
Which hand rivals the rain while the two meet,
Which palms can compete with the rain as they happened to meet,
What palm can rival the raincloud while they flow as one?
Then, when they part, returns while the rain does not?
Until when they parted, it did not return?
Yet when they part, the hand returns; the rain is done.
قَدindeed كُنتُI used to أَحسَبُthink أَنَّthat المَجدَglory مِنfrom مُضَرٍMudar
قَد كُنتُ أَحسَبُ أَنَّ المَجدَ مِن مُضَرٍ
حَتّىuntil تَبَحتَرَbecame Buhturi فَهوَso it is اليَومَtoday مِنfrom أَدَدِAdad
حَتّى تَبَحتَرَ فَهوَ اليَومَ مِن أَدَدِ
I once thought that glory descended from Mudar,
I used to think glory was from Mudar
I used to deem that Glory belonged to Mudar's line,
Until it became Buhturi; today it descends from Adad.
Until it shone, and today it is from Aded.
Until it joined the Buhtur clan, and now springs from Adad's vine.
قَومٌa people إِذاwhen أَمطَرَتrained down مَوتاًdeath سُيوفُهُمُtheir swords
قَومٌ إِذا أَمطَرَت مَوتاً سُيوفُهُمُ
حَسِبتَهاyou would think them سُحُباًclouds جادَتpoured generously عَلىupon بَلَدِa land
حَسِبتَها سُحُباً جادَت عَلى بَلَدِ
A people whose swords, whenever they rain death,
A people whose swords rain death when they unsheathe them -
A people whose swords, when raining death upon the field,
You would take for clouds pouring rain upon a land.
You would think they are clouds pouring down on a land.
You would mistake for clouds that bountiful harvest yield.
لَمdid not أُجرِI let run غايَةَthe utmost فِكريmy thought مِنكَof yours فيin صِفَةٍan attribute
لَم أُجرِ غايَةَ فِكري مِنكَ في صِفَةٍ
إِلّاexcept that وَجَدتُI found مَداهاits extent غايَةَthe limit الأَبَدِeternity
إِلّا وَجَدتُ مَداها غايَةَ الأَبَدِ
Never have I let my thought run its full course through an attribute of yours,
I have not set the extent of my thought about you in any description
I never raced the limits of my thought to describe your state,
Without finding its reach to be the limit of eternity.
Except I found its range the extent of eternity.
But found its finish line to be Eternity's own gate.
Sol 6.1