مَلومُكُماthe man you two blame يَجِلُّis too great عَنِfor المَلامِblame
مَلومُكُما يَجِلُّ عَنِ المَلامِ
وَوَقعُand the impact فَعالِهِof his deeds فَوقَabove الكَلامِwords
وَوَقعُ فَعالِهِ فَوقَ الكَلامِ
The man you two blame stands above blame,
Blameworthy are you though blame recoils from you,
The man you blame is far too great for scolding,
And the impact of his deeds is beyond words.
Your deeds surpass all talk.
And his deeds’ impact soars above mere speech.
ذَرانيleave me, you two وَالفَلاةُand the desert بِلاwithout دَليلٍa guide
ذَراني وَالفَلاةُ بِلا دَليلٍ
وَوَجهيand my face وَالهَجيرَand the midday heat بِلاwithout لِثامِa veil
وَوَجهي وَالهَجيرَ بِلا لِثامِ
Leave me with the desert, without a guide,
Leave me be, though trackless is the wilderness
Leave me to the wasteland with no guide to lead,
And my face with the midday heat, without a veil.
My face, the veil torn asunder.
My face unveiled against the scorching noon.
فَإِنّيfor I أَستَريحُfind rest بِذيin this وَهَذاand this
فَإِنّي أَستَريحُ بِذي وَهَذا
وَأَتعَبُand I grow weary بِالإِناخَةِfrom halting the camels وَالمُقامِand staying put
وَأَتعَبُ بِالإِناخَةِ وَالمُقامِ
For I find rest in this and that,
I find rest in this, though that does weary me,
For in such hardships I find my repose,
And grow weary of halting and staying put.
Halting, not roaming, my wont.
While rest and settling only wear me down.
عُيونُthe eyes رَواحِليof my mounts إِنif حُرتُI lose my way عَينيmy eye
عُيونُ رَواحِلي إِن حُرتُ عَيني
وَكُلُّand every بُغامِcry رازِحَةٍof an exhausted she-camel بُغاميmy cry
وَكُلُّ بُغامِ رازِحَةٍ بُغامي
My mounts' eyes serve as mine when I lose my way,
My steeds’ eyes guide when sight fails me.
My camels' eyes become my own when lost,
And every exhausted camel's cry is my cry.
Each she-camel’s foal, my tribe entire.
And their exhaustion echoes in my voice.
فَقَدfor indeed أَرِدُI reach المِياهَthe watering places بِغَيرِwithout هادٍa guide
فَقَد أَرِدُ المِياهَ بِغَيرِ هادٍ
سِوىexcept عَدّيmy reckoning لَهاfor them بَرقَthe lightning الغَمامِof the clouds
سِوى عَدّي لَها بَرقَ الغَمامِ
For I reach the watering places without a guide,
I seek the waters sans guide, none but my count
I find the water holes without a guide,
Save the clouds' lightning, which I reckon a guide to them.
Of lightning streaks through the clouds’ loom.
Led only by the lightning in the clouds.
يُذِمُّpledges protection لِمُهجَتيto my life رَبّيmy Lord وَسَيفيand my sword
يُذِمُّ لِمُهجَتي رَبّي وَسَيفي
إِذاwhen اِحتاجَneeds الوَحيدُthe solitary man إِلىfor الذِمامِprotection
إِذا اِحتاجَ الوَحيدُ إِلى الذِمامِ
My Lord and my sword pledge protection for my life,
My Lord and sword suffice my tribe,
My Lord and sword stand surety for my soul,
When the solitary man needs protection.
When the lone soul cries for aid.
When the lone wanderer needs a guarantee.
وَلاnor أُمسيI spend the evening لِأَهلِof the people of البُخلِmiserliness ضَيفاًa guest
وَلا أُمسي لِأَهلِ البُخلِ ضَيفاً
وَلَيسَand there is no قِرىًguest fare سِوىexcept مُخِّmarrow النِعامِof ostriches
وَلَيسَ قِرىً سِوى مُخِّ النِعامِ
Nor do I spend the evening as a guest of misers,
No guest am I in misers’ abodes,
I will not be a guest to miserly folk,
And there is no guest fare but ostrich marrow.
My only shelter, ostrich plumes.
Nor feast on aught but marrow of the wild.
فَلَمّاso when صارَbecame وُدُّthe affection الناسِof people خِبّاًdeceit
فَلَمّا صارَ وُدُّ الناسِ خِبّاً
جَزَيتُI repaid عَلىfor اِبتِسامٍa smile بِاِبتِسامِwith a smile
جَزَيتُ عَلى اِبتِسامٍ بِاِبتِسامِ
So when people's affection became deceit,
So when goodwill in people soured like milk,
When human friendship turned to mere deceit,
I repaid a smile with a smile.
I returned smiles for smiles in kind.
I paid back feigned affection with a smile.
وَصِرتُand I came to أَشُكُّI doubt فيمَنin whomever أَصطَفيهِI choose him
وَصِرتُ أَشُكُّ فيمَن أَصطَفيهِ
لِعِلميbecause I know أَنَّهُthat he بَعضُone of الأَنامِhumankind
لِعِلمي أَنَّهُ بَعضُ الأَنامِ
And I came to doubt whomever I chose,
I doubt even those I thought elect,
I came to doubt the very friends I chose,
Knowing that he was one of mankind.
For I know, we are all but human.
Knowing that they, too, are but humankind.
يُحِبُّlove العاقِلونَthe wise عَلىon the basis of التَصافيmutual sincerity
يُحِبُّ العاقِلونَ عَلى التَصافي
وَحُبُّand the love الجاهِلينَof the ignorant عَلىon the basis of الوَسامِbeauty
وَحُبُّ الجاهِلينَ عَلى الوَسامِ
The wise love through mutual sincerity,
The wise love sincerely, fools for show;
The wise base love on pure sincerity,
And the ignorant love for outward beauty.
I scorn a brother to my mother and sire,
While fools base theirs on outward beauty’s form.
وَآنَفُand I recoil in disdain مِنfrom أَخيmy brother لِأَبيof my father وَأُمّيand my mother
وَآنَفُ مِن أَخي لِأَبي وَأُمّي
إِذاif ماemphatic particle لَمnot أَجِدهُI find him مِنَamong الكِرامِthe noble
إِذا ما لَم أَجِدهُ مِنَ الكِرامِ
And I scorn even my brother, of my father and mother,
If he lack all nobility.
I scorn my very brother, flesh and blood,
If I do not find him among the noble.
Sires oft outdo sons in villainy.
If he proves not a man of noble soul.
أَرىI see الأَجدادَthe forebears تَغلِبُهاovercome them كَثيراًoften
أَرى الأَجدادَ تَغلِبُها كَثيراً
عَلىin الأَولادِthe children أَخلاقُthe traits اللِئامِof the ignoble
عَلى الأَولادِ أَخلاقُ اللِئامِ
I see forebears often defeated
No ancestor’s glory contents me,
I see high lineage often overcome
In their children by the traits of the ignoble.
If valor he did not evince.
In offspring by the habits of the vile.
وَلَستُand I am not بِقانِعٍcontent مِنin place of كُلِّevery فَضلٍmerit
وَلَستُ بِقانِعٍ مِن كُلِّ فَضلٍ
بِأَنwith the fact that أُعزىI am traced إِلىto جَدٍّa forebear هُمامِvaliant
بِأَن أُعزى إِلى جَدٍّ هُمامِ
Nor am I content, in place of every merit,
I wonder at one with grit yet runs
I am not satisfied with virtue’s claim
To be traced to a valiant forebear.
As prey while predator he could have been.
Merely to cite a valiant grandsire’s name.
عَجِبتُI marvel لِمَنat one who لَهُhas قَدٌّstature وَحَدٌّand an edge
عَجِبتُ لِمَن لَهُ قَدٌّ وَحَدٌّ
وَيَنبوand glances off نَبوَةَthe glancing blow القَضِمِof a chipped blade الكَهامِblunt
وَيَنبو نَبوَةَ القَضِمِ الكَهامِ
I marvel at one with stature and an edge,
One who can reach the heights should not then leave
I marvel: one with strength and blade to wield,
Who yet glances off like a chipped, blunt blade.
His mount unsaddled, reins astray.
Yet dull and blunt as useless, broken steel.
وَمَنand one who يَجِدُfinds الطَريقَthe path إِلىto المَعاليhigh honors
وَمَن يَجِدُ الطَريقَ إِلى المَعالي
فَلاyet does not يَذَرُleave المَطِيَّthe riding camels بِلاwithout سَنامِa hump
فَلا يَذَرُ المَطِيَّ بِلا سَنامِ
And at one who finds the road to high honors,
In people's faults I find none worse
Whoever finds the path to glory’s peak
Yet does not leave his mounts without a hump.
Than failing at what they perfect could.
Will ride his mount until its hump is gone.
وَلَمand not أَرَI have seen فيamong عُيوبِthe faults الناسِof people شَيئاًanything
وَلَم أَرَ في عُيوبِ الناسِ شَيئاً
كَنَقصِlike the shortcomings القادِرينَof those capable عَلىof التَمامِperfection
كَنَقصِ القادِرينَ عَلى التَمامِ
And I have seen nothing among people's faults
In Egypt have I stayed, no more beyond me
I see no flaw in mankind quite so tragic
Like the shortcomings of those capable of perfection.
Or ahead can my steed now fare.
As falling short when capable of greatness.
أَقَمتُI remained بِأَرضِin the land of مِصرَEgypt فَلاso neither وَرائيbehind me
أَقَمتُ بِأَرضِ مِصرَ فَلا وَرائي
تَخُبُّtrot بِيَbearing me المَطِيُّthe riding camels وَلاnor أَماميahead of me
تَخُبُّ بِيَ المَطِيُّ وَلا أَمامي
I remained in the land of Egypt; neither back
My sickbed palls, my side now pines
I stayed in Egypt; my mounts do not run
Nor onward do the camels trot bearing me.
For meetings that may never come.
Behind me now, nor lead the way ahead.
وَمَلَّنِيَand grew weary of me الفِراشُthe bed وَكانَand was جَنبيmy side
وَمَلَّنِيَ الفِراشُ وَكانَ جَنبي
يَمَلُّgrows weary of لِقاءَهُmeeting it فيin كُلِّevery عامِyear
يَمَلُّ لِقاءَهُ في كُلِّ عامِ
And the bed grew weary of me, though my side
Few care for me, my heart is sick,
The bed has grown weary of my weight, though once
Used to tire of meeting it each year.
Many envy, harsh my plight.
My side would tire to touch it once a year.
قَليلٌfew عائِديmy sickbed visitors سَقِمٌsick فُؤاديmy heart
قَليلٌ عائِدي سَقِمٌ فُؤادي
كَثيرٌmany حاسِديmy enviers صَعبٌhard to attain مَراميmy aim
كَثيرٌ حاسِدي صَعبٌ مَرامي
My visitors are few; my heart is sick.
Weak in body, unable to rise,
My visitors are few, my heart is sick,
My enviers are many; my goal is hard to attain.
Drunk without wine, such is my bane.
My enviers many, and my goal far off.
عَليلُailing الجِسمِthe body مُمتَنِعُunable القِيامِto rise
عَليلُ الجِسمِ مُمتَنِعُ القِيامِ
شَديدُintense السُكرِintoxication مِنfrom غَيرِother than المُدامِwine
شَديدُ السُكرِ مِن غَيرِ المُدامِ
Ailing in body, unable to rise,
My lover comes to me as if ashamed,
My body frail, unable to arise,
Deeply intoxicated, but not from wine.
Only under night’s cover she’ll draw near.
Heavily drunk, though I have tasted no wine.
وَزائِرَتيand my female visitor كَأَنَّas though بِهاin her حَياءًmodesty
وَزائِرَتي كَأَنَّ بِها حَياءً
فَلَيسَso she does not تَزورُvisit إِلّاexcept فيin الظَلامِthe darkness
فَلَيسَ تَزورُ إِلّا في الظَلامِ
And my visitor seems to be shy,
I offered up my coat, my rations,
My visitor arrives as if with shyness,
For she visits only in the dark.
She refused them all, down to my bones.
For she will only visit in the dark.
بَذَلتُI offered لَهاto her المَطارِفَfine cloaks وَالحَشاياand mattresses
بَذَلتُ لَها المَطارِفَ وَالحَشايا
فَعافَتهاso she spurned them وَباتَتand spent the night فيin عِظاميmy bones
فَعافَتها وَباتَت في عِظامي
I offered her fine cloaks and mattresses,
My hide shrinks from my flesh and hers,
I offered her my linens and my silks;
But she spurned them and spent the night in my bones.
Which she expands with every other woe.
She spurned them all to sleep within my bones.
يَضيقُis too narrow الجِلدُthe skin عَنfor نَفسيmy soul وَعَنهاand for her
يَضيقُ الجِلدُ عَن نَفسي وَعَنها
فَتوسِعُهُso she widens it بِأَنواعِwith kinds السِقامِof sickness
فَتوسِعُهُ بِأَنواعِ السِقامِ
My skin is too narrow for my soul and her,
When she leaves me, still she’ll wash me
My skin is far too tight to hold us both,
So she widens it with various kinds of sickness.
As if we both in penance were.
So she expands it with a strange disease.
إِذاwhen ماemphatic particle فارَقَتنيshe leaves me غَسَّلَتنيshe washes me
إِذا ما فارَقَتني غَسَّلَتني
كَأَنّاas though we عاكِفانِboth absorbed عَلىin حَرامِsomething forbidden
كَأَنّا عاكِفانِ عَلى حَرامِ
When she leaves me, she washes me,
As if the dawn were chasing her, she runs,
And when she leaves, she bathes me in my sweat,
As though we two were absorbed in something forbidden.
Four tears flow down like swords stabbed in.
As though we had committed secret sins.
كَأَنَّas though الصُبحَthe dawn يَطرُدُهاdrives her away فَتَجريso flow
كَأَنَّ الصُبحَ يَطرُدُها فَتَجري
مَدامِعُهاher tears بِأَربَعَةٍin four سِجامِcopiously flowing
مَدامِعُها بِأَربَعَةٍ سِجامِ
As though dawn drives her away; then flow
I watch her times with no yearning,
As if the morning drives her out, she flees,
Her tears in four copious streams.
As the enamored watches his beloved.
Her tears streaming in four distinct flows.
أُراقِبُI watch for وَقتَهاher time مِنfrom غَيرِother than شَوقٍlonging
أُراقِبُ وَقتَها مِن غَيرِ شَوقٍ
مُراقَبَةَthe watching المَشوقِof the yearning one المُستَهامِcrazed with love
مُراقَبَةَ المَشوقِ المُستَهامِ
I watch for her time without longing,
And her promise is true, though truth can be
I watch for her arrival without love,
With the watchfulness of one yearning and crazed with love.
Dire when deep sorrow it does confirm.
Yet with the vigilance of one obsessed.
وَيَصدُقُand proves true وَعدُهاher promise وَالصِدقُand truth شَرٌّan evil
وَيَصدُقُ وَعدُها وَالصِدقُ شَرٌّ
إِذاwhen أَلقاكَit casts you فيinto الكُرَبِdistresses العِظامِgreat
إِذا أَلقاكَ في الكُرَبِ العِظامِ
And her promise proves true; but truth is an evil
To me, all womankind like daughters are,
She keeps her promise faithfully; yet truth
When it casts you into great distress.
How did you pass through the throng to me?
Is evil when it brings such agony.
أَبِنتَO daughter الدَهرِof Time عِنديwith me كُلُّevery بِنتٍdaughter
أَبِنتَ الدَهرِ عِندي كُلُّ بِنتٍ
فَكَيفَso how وَصَلتِyou arrived أَنتِyou yourself مِنَthrough الزِحامِthe crowd
فَكَيفَ وَصَلتِ أَنتِ مِنَ الزِحامِ
O daughter of Time, every daughter is with me;
You have wounded one already wounded beyond cure,
O Daughter of Time, I have all your kin;
How, then, did you yourself get through the crowd?
No place in him for swords or arrows more.
How did you find me through the crowding throng?
جَرَحتِyou wounded مُجَرَّحاًone already wounded لَمnot يَبقَremains فيهِin him
جَرَحتِ مُجَرَّحاً لَم يَبقَ فيهِ
مَكانٌroom لِلسُيوفِfor swords وَلاnor السِهامِarrows
مَكانٌ لِلسُيوفِ وَلا السِهامِ
You wounded one already wounded; no longer remains in him
Oh would that I knew if my hands might one day
You wound a body wounded everywhere,
Any room for swords or arrows.
Take reins or hold the bridle’s straps!
With no spot left for arrows or for swords.
أَلاah ياO لَيتَif only شَعرَknowledge يَديmy hand أَتُمسيwill it spend the evening
أَلا يا لَيتَ شَعرَ يَدي أَتُمسي
تَصَرَّفُmove about فيupon عِنانٍa bridle rein أَوor زِمامِa halter
تَصَرَّفُ في عِنانٍ أَو زِمامِ
Ah, if only I knew: will my hand, at evening,
Shall I toss my love to dancing girls
Oh, would my hand but know if it will hold
Work a rein or a halter?
With anklets on their platforms jingling loud?
The horse’s rein or camel’s lead again?
وَهَلand shall أَرميI aim for هَوايَmy heart's desire بِراقِصاتٍwith dancing mounts
وَهَل أَرمي هَوايَ بِراقِصاتٍ
مُحَلّاةِadorned المَقاوِدِthe leading reins بِاللُغامِwith mouth-froth
مُحَلّاةِ المَقاوِدِ بِاللُغامِ
And shall I aim for my heart's desire with dancing mounts,
How often I have healed my bosom’s wounds
Shall I pursue my aim on dancing mounts,
Whose leading reins are adorned with foam?
With horse or canal or sword in hand!
Their leather halters decorated with foam?
فَرُبَّتَماfor often شَفَيتُI soothed غَليلَthe burning thirst صَدريof my breast
فَرُبَّتَما شَفَيتُ غَليلَ صَدري
بِسَيرٍwith travel أَوor قَناةٍa spear أَوor حُسامِa keen sword
بِسَيرٍ أَو قَناةٍ أَو حُسامِ
For often I have soothed my breast's burning thirst
Straitened the path, I slipped out from it
For often I have cured my burning chest
With travel, or a spear, or a keen sword.
As wine slips free from the flask’s swollen womb.
By journey, or by spear-point, or by sword.
وَضاقَتand grew tight خُطَّةٌa predicament فَخَلَصتُso I escaped مِنهاfrom it
وَضاقَت خُطَّةٌ فَخَلَصتُ مِنها
خَلاصَthe escape الخَمرِof wine مِنfrom نَسجِthe weave الفِدامِof the straining cloth
خَلاصَ الخَمرِ مِن نَسجِ الفِدامِ
And a predicament closed in, but I escaped it,
Without farewells, I left my darling one,
When circumstances tightened, I broke free,
As wine slips free of the strainer's weave.
Without greetings, I left the lands beyond.
As wine escapes the strainer's woven mesh.
وَفارَقتُand I parted from الحَبيبَthe beloved بِلاwithout وَداعٍfarewell
وَفارَقتُ الحَبيبَ بِلا وَداعٍ
وَوَدَّعتُand I bade farewell to البِلادَthe lands بِلاwithout سَلامِa salutation
وَوَدَّعتُ البِلادَ بِلا سَلامِ
And I parted from my beloved without farewell,
The doctor says, “You’ve eaten such and such,”
I left the beloved with no parting word,
And bade the lands farewell without a salutation.
But my malady is in my food and drink.
And quit the land without a last farewell.
يَقولُsays ليto me الطَبيبُthe physician أَكَلتَyou ate شَيئاًsomething
يَقولُ لي الطَبيبُ أَكَلتَ شَيئاً
وَداؤُكَand your illness فيin شَرابِكَyour drink وَالطَعامِand food
وَداؤُكَ في شَرابِكَ وَالطَعامِ
The physician tells me, "You ate something,
It vexes him that I’m a steed
The doctor asks me, "Did you eat some thing?
And your illness lies in your drink and food."
Whose body is weakened by prolonged thirst.
Your sickness lies within your food and drink."
وَماbut not فيin طِبِّهِhis medical knowledge أَنّيthat I am جَوادٌa noble steed
وَما في طِبِّهِ أَنّي جَوادٌ
أَضَرَّhas caused harm بِجِسمِهِto his body طولُthe length الجِمامِof rest
أَضَرَّ بِجِسمِهِ طولُ الجِمامِ
Yet his medicine fails to see that I am a noble steed,
Who grew used to roaming through manor houses
His art knows not that I am like a steed
Whose body has been harmed by prolonged rest,
And plunging from darkness into darkness more.
Whose body suffers from too long a rest.
تَعَوَّدَhe grew accustomed أَنto يُغَبِّرَraise dust فيamong السَراياraiding parties
تَعَوَّدَ أَن يُغَبِّرَ في السَرايا
وَيَدخُلَand enter مِنfrom قَتامِa dust-cloud فيinto قَتامِa dust-cloud
وَيَدخُلَ مِن قَتامِ في قَتامِ
Accustomed to raising dust amid raiding parties
Now held back, no more range does he have,
Accustomed to the dust of charging raids,
And passing from one dust-cloud into another.
Neither pasture, nor tether, nor rein.
Plunging from battle-cloud to battle-cloud.
فَأُمسِكَso he was confined لاnot يُطالُis lengthened لَهُfor him فَيَرعىso he may graze
فَأُمسِكَ لا يُطالُ لَهُ فَيَرعى
وَلاnor هُوَhe فيat العَليقِfodder وَلاnor اللِجامِthe bridle
وَلا هُوَ في العَليقِ وَلا اللِجامِ
So he is held, his tether not lengthened to let him graze,
If I fall ill, still my patience is unmarred,
Now held in check, denied the range to graze,
Nor is he given fodder, nor put under the bridle.
If I go blind, still my resolve is firm,
With neither bridle nor the feed he needs.
فَإِنso if أَمرَضI fall ill فَماthen not مَرِضَfell ill اِصطِباريmy endurance
فَإِن أَمرَض فَما مَرِضَ اِصطِباري
وَإِنand if أُحمَمI am fevered فَماthen not حُمَّwas fevered اِعتِزاميmy resolve
وَإِن أُحمَم فَما حُمَّ اِعتِزامي
If I fall ill, my endurance has not fallen ill;
And if I die, nothing remains, but I have passed
For if I sicken, patience stays immune;
And if I suffer fever, my resolve has caught none.
From sanctuary to sanctuary of my soul.
And if I burn, my will remains un-scorched.
وَإِنand if أَسلَمI survive فَماthen not أَبقىI live on وَلَكِنbut rather
وَإِن أَسلَم فَما أَبقى وَلَكِن
سَلِمتُI escaped safely مِنَfrom الحِمامِdeath إِلىto الحِمامِdeath
سَلِمتُ مِنَ الحِمامِ إِلى الحِمامِ
And if I survive, I shall not live forever; rather,
Take your pleasure in sleep or rest,
And if I live, I do not live for aye;
I have escaped from death only to reach death.
Yearn not for tombs beneath the earth.
I am but spared one death to meet the next.
تَمَتَّعtake pleasure مِنin سُهادِsleeplessness أَوor رُقادٍsleep
تَمَتَّع مِن سُهادِ أَو رُقادٍ
وَلاand do not تَأمُلhope for كَرىًslumber تَحتَbeneath الرِجامِthe burial stones
وَلا تَأمُل كَرىً تَحتَ الرِجامِ
Take pleasure in sleeplessness or sleep,
For the third of life’s states has meaning
So take your joy in wakefulness or sleep,
And hope for no slumber beneath the burial stones.
Other than your heedfulness, or dreams.
And hope for no repose beneath the stones.
فَإِنَّfor indeed لِثالِثِfor the third الحالَينِof the two states مَعنىًa meaning
فَإِنَّ لِثالِثِ الحالَينِ مَعنىً
سِوىother than مَعنىthe meaning اِنتِباهِكَof your waking وَالمَنامِand sleep
سِوى مَعنى اِنتِباهِكَ وَالمَنامِ
For the third state, beyond these two, has a meaning
For that third state holds meaning far distinct
Other than that of your waking and your sleep.
From what you know of waking or of dreams.
Partial English translation: 82 of 84 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1