حَتّامَuntil when لاnot تَضجَرُyou grow weary ياO سَيِّديmy lord
حَتّامَ لا تَضجَرُ يا سَيِّدي
مِنof سَعَةِthe breadth of العُذرِexcuses وَضيقِand the narrowness of الحِجابthe veil
مِن سَعَةِ العُذرِ وَضيقِ الحِجاب
How long before you grow weary, my lord,
My lord, be not vexed,
of ample excuses and a constricting veil,
By my oft excuses and scarce approach;
وَمَعشَرٍand a company of people إِنif يَمَّمواthey make their way نَحوَكُمtoward you
وَمَعشَرٍ إِن يَمَّموا نَحوَكُم
يَحظونَthey enjoy بِالزُلفىcloseness وَحُسنِand the goodness of المَآبthe return
يَحظونَ بِالزُلفى وَحُسنِ المَآب
and of people who, if they make their way toward you,
They who aspire to you,
enjoy closeness and a gracious return?
Will attain your grace and their desire.
ياO مالِكاًmaster أَصبَحَhas become ليfor me صارِماًa keen sword
يا مالِكاً أَصبَحَ لي صارِماً
أُعِدُّهُI ready it يَومَon the day of الوَغىbattle لِلضِرابfor striking blows
أُعِدُّهُ يَومَ الوَغى لِلضِراب
O master who has become a keen sword for me,
O warrior mine, that wast kind,
which I ready for blows on the day of battle,
Art now cruel when war is nigh;
حاشاكَfar be it from you أَنto تَرضىbe content بِقَولِwith the words of العِدىthe enemies
حاشاكَ أَن تَرضى بِقَولِ العِدى
سَيفُكَyour sword هَذاthis لاnot يَفُكُّunfastens القِرابthe scabbard
سَيفُكَ هَذا لا يَفُكُّ القِراب
far be it from you to accept the enemies’ claim:
No faith hast thou in foe's words;
“This sword of yours does not come out of its sheath.”
Thy sword once drawn will never rest.
Sol 6.1