يا مَن ينادي الدارَ هل تنطقُ

قد خرست عنكَ فما تنطقُ

O you who call out to an empty house, can it speak?

O you who call out to the dwelling: does it speak?

It has become mute to you, so it cannot speak.

It has fallen mute before you, so it utters not a word.

كأنّها إذ خرست جاذمٌ

بين ذوي تفنيدِه مُطرِقُ

As if, when it fell mute, a passionate lover

As though, in its silence, it is a man abashed,

Among those who reproach him, bows his head.

Head bowed low among those who rebuke him.

قد داومَ الإطراقَ حتى لهُ

يحسب عيّاً وهو المفلقُ

He persisted bowing his head until

He prolonged his silence until,

He seems blind while he is clear-sighted.

He was deemed inarticulate, though he is eloquent.

إنّي عنيتُ نحو ذا واحداً

من قولهِ في أذني أعلقُ

I intended towards that one alone

By this, I intended a specific person,

Whose words in my ear I cherish.

Whose words cling most firmly in my ear.

بهديهِ يشكو التباريحَ مِن

رمّانَتي صدرتِها القُرطَقُ

With his guidance he complains of sleeplessness from

In his manner, he complains of the torments caused by

My arrowheads that pierced his chest.

Two pomegranates on her chest, beneath the tunic.

أكثرُ ما يشغلُها سجدةٌ

لغُرّةِ الشمسِ إذا تشرقُ

What preoccupies them most is a prostration

Her greatest concern is a prostration

To the cheek of the sun when it rises.

To the brow of the sun when it rises.

يزوّجُ الخمرَ من الماءِ في

جاماتِ تبرٍ خمرُها يفهقُ

He marries wine to water in

He marries the wine to the water in

Cups of pure wine whose foam seethes.

Goblets of gold, their liquor brimming over.

منطّقاتٍ بتصاويرَ لا

تسمع للدّاعي ولا تنطقُ

Statues that do not

Adorned with figures that neither

Hear the supplicant nor speak.

Hear the summoner nor speak.

على تماثيلِ بني بابكٍ

محتفرٌ ما بينهم خندق

Engraved on the statues of the Banu Babak

Upon the effigies of the sons of Babak,

Is a trench between them.

A trench is excavated between them.

كأنهم والخمر من فوقهم

كتائبٌ في لجّةٍ تغرقُ

As if they and the wine above them

As if they, with the wine rising above them,

Are regiments drowned in a marsh.

Were battalions drowning in the deep.

فالنعتُ ذا لا نعتُ دار خلَت

يهيمُ في أطلالِها أحمقُ

So this description is no description of an empty house

This is the true description, not the description of a desolate abode

In whose ruins a fool wanders.

In whose ruins a fool wanders blindly.