حَبليmy rope بيدَيكin your two hands أَمسِكيhold it أَوor أَرخيslacken it
حَبلي بيدَيك أَمسِكي أَو أَرخي
ليmine is حنَّةُplaintive cooing وَرقاءَa gray dove نأتwent far away عَنfrom فَرخِa chick
لي حنَّةُ وَرقاءَ نأت عَن فَرخِ
My rope is in your hands: hold it fast or let it slacken.
With your hands hold me tight or let me go
Mine is the plaintive cooing of a gray dove gone far from her chick.
My Hannah is tender, fledged from the nest
ماnot اِنقاسَwas comparable إِلىto حُرقَةِburning anguish قَلبa heart حُرقيmy burning anguish
ما اِنقاسَ إِلى حُرقَةِ قَلب حُرقي
ماnot نارُfire الحلفاءِthe halfa grass كَنارlike the fire المرخِthe markh shrub
ما نارُ الحلفاءِ كَنار المرخِ
My burning anguish cannot be measured against the burning of a heart.
No respite for my scorched heart's agony
The fire of halfa grass is not like the fire of the markh shrub.
No allies' fire can match love's fire that burned me to a crisp
Sol 6.1