شامُSham ياO ذاthis السَّـيفُthe sword لمdid not يَِغبvanish
شامُ يا ذا السَّـيفُ لم يَِغب
ياO كَـلامَwords المجدِglory فيin الكُتُبِthe books
يا كَـلامَ المجدِ في الكُتُبِ
Sham, O sword that has not vanished,
O Damascus, O bearer of the sword, glory has not been absent
O words of glory in the books!
O you are the speech of glory in books
قبلَكِbefore you التّاريـخُhistory فيin ظُلمـةٍdarkness
قبلَكِ التّاريـخُ في ظُلمـةٍ
بعدَكِafter you استولىtook possession علىof الشُّهُبِthe shooting stars
بعدَكِ استولى على الشُّهُبِ
Before you, history was in darkness;
Before you, history was in darkness
after you, it took possession of the shooting stars.
After you, it took over meteors
ليfor me ربيـعٌa springtime فيـكِwithin you خبَّأتُـهُI hid it
لي ربيـعٌ فيـكِ خبَّأتُـهُ
مِـلءَfilling دُنياthe world قلبـيَmy heart التّعِـبِweary
مِـلءَ دُنيا قلبـيَ التّعِـبِ
I have a springtime that I hid within you,
I have a spring hidden in you
filling the world of my weary heart,
My heart is full of fatigue
يومَon the day when عَينَاهاher two eyes بِسـاطُthe carpet of السَّماthe sky
يومَ عَينَاها بِسـاطُ السَّما
والرِّمَاحُand the spears السودُblack فيin الهُدُبِthe lashes
والرِّمَاحُ السودُ في الهُدُبِ
on the day her eyes were the sky's carpet,
The day when the ground is the carpet of the sky
and black spears were among her lashes.
And the black spears are in the tents
تلتويshe twists خَصـراًat the waist فأوميso I gesture إلىtoward
تلتوي خَصـراً فأومي إلى
نغمـةِthe melody of النّـايِthe reed flute ألاah! انتَحِبيweep!
نغمـةِ النّـايِ ألا انتَحِبي
She twists at the waist, so I gesture toward
Twist your waist, and I lament to
the flute's melody: 'Ah, weep!'
The melody of the flute, won't you sob
أناI فيin ظِـلِّكَyour shade ياO هُدبَـهاher lashes
أنا في ظِـلِّكَ يا هُدبَـها
أحسُـبُI count الأنجُـمَthe stars فيamong لُعَبيmy playthings
أحسُـبُ الأنجُـمَ في لُعَبي
I am in your shade, O lashes of hers;
I'm in your shadow, O its hump
I count the stars among my playthings.
I count the stars in my play
طابتِbecame sweet الذكرىthe memory فَمَنْso who رَاجِعٌbringing back
طابتِ الذكرى فَمَنْ رَاجِعٌ
بيwith me كماas العودُthe oud إلىto الطربِrapture؟
بي كما العودُ إلى الطربِ؟
The memory has grown sweet—who will bring
The memory was good, so who is coming back
me back, as the oud returns to rapture?
To me like the lute to happiness?
شـامُSham أهلوكِyour people إذاwhen همْthey علىamid
شـامُ أهلوكِ إذا همْ على
نُـوَبٍcalamities ، ٍقلبيmy heart علىamid نُـوبِcalamities
نُـوَبٍ ، ٍقلبي على نُـوبِ
Sham, when your people are beset by
Damascus, its people greeted you when they were
calamities, my heart is beset by calamities.
in peril, my heart in perils
أناI أحـبابيَmy loved ones شِـعريmy poetry لهمْfor them
أنا أحـبابيَ شِـعري لهمْ
مثلماjust as سَـيفيmy sword وسَـيفُand the sword of أبيmy father
مثلما سَـيفي وسَـيفُ أبي
As for me, my poetry is for my loved ones,
I love my loved ones, my poetry is for them
as are my sword and my father's sword.
Just like my sword and my father's sword
أناI صَـوتيmy voice مِنكَfrom you ياO بَرَدَىBarada
أنا صَـوتي مِنكَ يا بَرَدَى
مثلماjust as نَبعُـكyour spring مِـنfrom سُـحُبيmy clouds
مثلما نَبعُـك مِـن سُـحُبي
My voice comes from you, O Barada,
My voice from you, O coolness
just as your spring comes from my clouds.
Just like your spring from my clouds
ثلـجُsnow حَرْمُـونَHermon غَذَاناnourished us مَعاًtogether
ثلـجُ حَرْمُـونَ غَذَانا مَعاً
شامِخاًtowering كالعِـزِّlike glory فيamong القُـبَبِthe domes
شامِخاً كالعِـزِّ في القُـبَبِ
Hermon's snow nourished us both,
The snow of Mount Hermon fed us together
towering like glory among the domes.
Lofty like glory in domes
وَحَّـدَunited الدُنياthe world غَـداًtomorrow جَبَـلٌa mountain
وَحَّـدَ الدُنيا غَـداً جَبَـلٌ
لاعِـبٌplaying بالرّيـحِwith the wind والحِقَـبِand the ages
لاعِـبٌ بالرّيـحِ والحِقَـبِ
Tomorrow a mountain will unite the world,
And the world lined up tomorrow a mountain
playing with the wind and the ages.
Playing with the wind and the luggage
Sol 6.1