مَالَتْshe leaned تُمَزِّقُshe tears apart فَوْقَabove النَّعْشِthe bier أَكْفَانِيmy shrouds
مَالَتْ تُمَزِّقُ فَوْقَ النَّعْشِ أَكْفَانِي
مِنْfrom فَرْطِexcess مَاwhat اقْتَرَفَcommitted الآسِيthe healer بِجُثْمَانِيto my body
مِنْ فَرْطِ مَا اقْتَرَفَ الآسِي بِجُثْمَانِي
She leaned over, tearing my shrouds above the bier,
My palms tear at the shrouds above the bier
because of the enormity of what the healer had done to my body.
At how the tyrant treated my lifeless form
تَرْجُوshe hopes for انْبِعَاثِيmy resurrection وَمَاand not لِيfor me غَيْرُother than حُرْقَتِهَاher burning anguish
تَرْجُو انْبِعَاثِي وَمَا لِي غَيْرُ حُرْقَتِهَا
نَفْسِيmy soul وَقَدْand already أَوْعَدَthreatened الإِلْحَادُatheism أَدْيَانِيmy faiths
نَفْسِي وَقَدْ أَوْعَدَ الإِلْحَادُ أَدْيَانِي
She hopes for my resurrection; I have only her burning anguish—
You hope for my revival, but I have naught
my soul, while atheism had threatened my faiths.
Except my torment, though unbelief has damned my soul
أَجَبْتُI answered ثَوْبُthe garment الأَسَىof sorrow فِيin المَهْدِthe cradle جلَّلَنِيenveloped me
أَجَبْتُ ثَوْبُ الأَسَى فِي المَهْدِ جلَّلَنِي
والسَّيْرُand walking بَيْنَbetween ثَنَايَاthe folds الجَمْرِof the embers أَضْنَانِيwore me out
والسَّيْرُ بَيْنَ ثَنَايَا الجَمْرِ أَضْنَانِي
I answered: the garment of sorrow enveloped me in the cradle,
The robes of grief clad me since the cradle’s days
and walking through the folds of embers wore me out.
And walking on hot coals has been my wont
جُرِّعْتُI was made to drink كَأْسَthe cup الشَّجَاof sorrow مِمَّنْfrom those whom أُنَادِمُهُمْI drink with them
جُرِّعْتُ كَأْسَ الشَّجَا مِمَّنْ أُنَادِمُهُمْ
وَالنَّحْتُand chiseling عِنْدَat جِدارِthe wall اللَحْدِof the grave أَدْمَانِيmade me bleed
وَالنَّحْتُ عِنْدَ جِدارِ اللَحْدِ أَدْمَانِي
I was made to drink the cup of sorrow by those I drink with,
I drank deep of sorrow’s cup ‘gainst those I loved
and chiseling at the grave's wall made me bleed.
And dwelling by the tomb’s cold walls my wont has been
طَرَقْتُI knocked on أَبْوَابَthe doors مَنْthose who عَاثُواthey wreaked havoc بِنَسْمَتِنَاon our breeze
طَرَقْتُ أَبْوَابَ مَنْ عَاثُوا بِنَسْمَتِنَا
وَخُضْتُand I waged حَرْباًa war ضَرُوساًsavage دُونَwithout فُرْسَانِhorsemen
وَخُضْتُ حَرْباً ضَرُوساً دُونَ فُرْسَانِ
I knocked at the doors of those who wreaked havoc on our breeze,
I knocked on doors of those who did betray our bond
and I waged a savage war without horsemen.
And fought a vicious war sans any horsemen true
فَمَاso not وَجَدْتُI found لِنَيْلِto attain الثَّأْرِvengeance خَاصِرَةًa flank
فَمَا وَجَدْتُ لِنَيْلِ الثَّأْرِ خَاصِرَةً
تُزِيحُlifts away عَنْfrom كَاهِلِيmy shoulders المَنْهُوكِexhausted أَحْزَانِيmy sorrows
تُزِيحُ عَنْ كَاهِلِي المَنْهُوكِ أَحْزَانِي
Yet I found no flank for attaining vengeance
Yet for attaining vengeance found no weakness
that would lift my sorrows from my exhausted shoulders.
To lift from my burdened shoulders my grim tribulation
سَوَاحِلُthe shores الضَّيْمِof oppression أَدْنَتْنِيdrew me near مَرَافِؤُهَاtheir harbors
سَوَاحِلُ الضَّيْمِ أَدْنَتْنِي مَرَافِؤُهَا
وَاسْتَقْبَحَand deemed ugly الرَّسْفُshackled trudging فِيin الأَغْلاَلِthe fetters إِذْعَانِيmy submission
وَاسْتَقْبَحَ الرَّسْفُ فِي الأَغْلاَلِ إِذْعَانِي
The shores of oppression—their harbors drew me close,
The shores of wrong have anchored me in their harbors
and trudging in fetters found my submission vile.
And wearing chains now seems respectable to me
أَنَاI الأَبِيُّthe unbowed سَلِيلُa scion المَجْدِof glory آلَمَنِيpained me
أَنَا الأَبِيُّ سَلِيلُ المَجْدِ آلَمَنِي
فُقْدَانُthe loss حَتْفِيof my death وَمَكْثُand the lingering الرُّوحِof the soul أَشْقَانِيmade me wretched
فُقْدَانُ حَتْفِي وَمَكْثُ الرُّوحِ أَشْقَانِي
I, the unbowed, a scion of glory, was pained
I am the staunch, scion of glory that pains me
by the loss of my death; the soul's lingering made me wretched.
My loss of valor and the spirit's ache torment me
أَرَىI see الحَيَاةَlife بِلاَwithout مَعْنَىًmeaning مُذِsince انْفَرَطَتْcame undone
أَرَى الحَيَاةَ بِلاَ مَعْنَىً مُذِ انْفَرَطَتْ
قُيُودُthe bonds عَزْلِيof my isolation وَسَيرُand the strap الجَلْدِof flogging أَقْصَانِيcast me out
قُيُودُ عَزْلِي وَسَيرُ الجَلْدِ أَقْصَانِي
I see life as meaningless since they came undone—
Now meaningless seems life since broken are
the bonds of my isolation—and the flogging strap cast me out.
The chains of my exile and skin's march a burden to me
أَرَقْتُI poured out جَفْنِيmy eyelid عَلَىover دَمْعٍtears أُلاَزِمُهُI cling to it
أَرَقْتُ جَفْنِي عَلَى دَمْعٍ أُلاَزِمُهُ
قَدْhad ظَنَّهُthought it النَّاسُthe people بَحْراًa sea دُونَwithout شُطْآنِshores
قَدْ ظَنَّهُ النَّاسُ بَحْراً دُونَ شُطْآنِ
I poured out my eyelid over tears I cling to,
Sleepless have my eyes remained shedding a tear
which people had thought a sea without shores.
That people thought an ocean with no bounds
وَخُضْتُand I waged حَرْباًa war عَلَىagainst طَيْفٍa phantom أُنَازِعُهُI contend with it
وَخُضْتُ حَرْباً عَلَى طَيْفٍ أُنَازِعُهُ
نَبْذَthe rejection الهَوَانِof humiliation وَلَكِنْand yet حَالَstood in the way إِيمَانِيmy faith
نَبْذَ الهَوَانِ وَلَكِنْ حَالَ إِيمَانِي
And I waged war against a phantom, contending with it over
And though I battled a specter, trying to shake
the rejection of humiliation; but my faith barred me
Humiliation off, my faith did intervening stay
عَنْfrom وَضْعِputting حَدٍّan end لِعَيْشٍto a life بِتُّI came to أَمْقُتُهُI loathe it
عَنْ وَضْعِ حَدٍّ لِعَيْشٍ بِتُّ أَمْقُتُهُ
وَزَجْرِand driving away ضَيْمٍoppression ثَوَىsettled يَمْتَاحُdraws up أَشْجَانِيmy sorrows
وَزَجْرِ ضَيْمٍ ثَوَى يَمْتَاحُ أَشْجَانِي
from putting an end to a life I had come to loathe,
To limit a life I loathed and curb a wrong
and from driving away oppression that lingered, drawing up my sorrows.
That dwelt within and stirred my deepest pains
أَبْدَيْتُI revealed جُرْحِيmy wound إِلَىto الآسِيthe healer أُسَائِلُهُI question him
أَبْدَيْتُ جُرْحِي إِلَى الآسِي أُسَائِلُهُ
مِنْfrom فَرْطِthe intensity غَيْظِيof my rage لِمَwhy التَّمْثِيلُthe mutilation بِالفَانِيof the mortal
مِنْ فَرْطِ غَيْظِي لِمَ التَّمْثِيلُ بِالفَانِي
I showed my wound to the healer, asking him,
I showed my wound to the unjust one, asking
out of the intensity of my rage: why mutilate the mortal?
Why treat so my mortal flesh, from overflowing rancor?
أَنَاI الشَّقِيُّthe wretched one رَدِيفُthe fellow rider النَّزْفِof bleeding أَرَّقَنِيkept me awake
أَنَا الشَّقِيُّ رَدِيفُ النَّزْفِ أَرَّقَنِي
زَمُّthe tightening العِنَانِof the reins وَعُسْرُand hardship الحَالِof circumstance أَعْيَانِيexhausted me
زَمُّ العِنَانِ وَعُسْرُ الحَالِ أَعْيَانِي
I, the wretched one, bleeding's fellow rider, was kept awake
The hapless am I, bleeding ceaselessly
by the tightening of the reins, and harsh circumstances exhausted me.
My loosened reins and woeful state plain for all to see
أَرَدْتُI wanted ثَلْمَto notch وَمِيضٍa gleam لِلنَّفَاذِto break through بِهِwith it
أَرَدْتُ ثَلْمَ وَمِيضٍ لِلنَّفَاذِ بِهِ
فَالْتَاعَthen burned with pain زَنْدِيmy forearm وَسَيْفُand the sword الوَيْلِof woe أَرْدَانِيfelled me
فَالْتَاعَ زَنْدِي وَسَيْفُ الوَيْلِ أَرْدَانِي
I wanted to notch a gleam, to break through with it;
I wished for a piercing light to smite with
then my forearm burned with pain, and the sword of woe felled me.
But my spear did fail me and the sword of woe strike me
فَصَارَso became جِسْمِيmy body عَدِيمَdevoid of الحِسِّfeeling وَانْدَلَعَتْand flared up
فَصَارَ جِسْمِي عَدِيمَ الحِسِّ وَانْدَلَعَتْ
نِيرَانُthe fires شَجْوِيof my grief وَمَجَّand spat out الدَّمْعُthe tears أَجْفَانِيmy eyelids
نِيرَانُ شَجْوِي وَمَجَّ الدَّمْعُ أَجْفَانِي
So my body became devoid of feeling, and there flared up
So senseless grew my body and the fires blazed
the fires of my grief, and tears spat out my eyelids.
Of my anguish while my tears in torrents rained
حَتَّىuntil انْتَهَيْتُI reached my end بِلاَwithout حَتْفٍdeath وَمَزَّقَنِيand tore me apart
حَتَّى انْتَهَيْتُ بِلاَ حَتْفٍ وَمَزَّقَنِي
يَأْسِيmy despair وَفَوْقَand above جَحِيمِthe inferno المَوْتِof death أَحْيَانِيkept me alive
يَأْسِي وَفَوْقَ جَحِيمِ المَوْتِ أَحْيَانِي
Until I reached my end without death, and was torn apart
Until without valor I met my end, torn by
by my despair, which kept me alive above death's inferno.
Despair, while above death’s hell, life flickered faint in me
Sol 6.1