مسترسلflowing freely مثلُlike ماءwater النبعthe spring ياO بلديmy country
مسترسل مثلُ ماء النبع يا بلدي
تهميyou pour forth زُلالاًpure water ولاتلويand do not turn aside علىfor أحدٍanyone
تهمي زُلالاً ولاتلوي على أحدٍ
Flowing freely like springwater, O my country,
Flowing like a spring's water, O my country
You pour forth pure water and turn aside for no one.
Quench thirsts purely and do not bend for anyone
منfrom طينةthe clay النخلdate palms معجونٌkneaded ومغتَبِقٌand drinking at dusk
من طينة النخل معجونٌ ومغتَبِقٌ
منfrom ماءِwater زمزمZamzam مفطورٌinnately formed علىupon الرشدright guidance
من ماءِ زمزم مفطورٌ على الرشد
Kneaded from the clay of date palms, and drinking at dusk
Molded from palm clay and steeped
From Zamzam's water, born to right guidance.
Created from Zamzam water guided to righteousness
كفَّاكyour two palms فيin كلِّevery كفٍّpalm عِقدa necklace داليةa grapevine
كفَّاك في كلِّ كفٍّ عِقد دالية
فكيفso how لاnot يكثُرgrow numerous الحسَّادthe envious ياO بلديmy country
فكيف لا يكثُر الحسَّاد يا بلدي
Your two hands, in every palm, are a grapevine's necklace;
Your hands hold bundles of bounty
How, then, could the envious not multiply, O my country?
So why would not the envious proliferate, O my country
شلالa waterfall ضوءٍlight علىupon عينan eye معلقةsuspended
شلال ضوءٍ على عين معلقة
بحزنهاin its sorrow أيبستهاdried it out قسوةthe harshness الرمدِeye inflammation
بحزنها أيبستها قسوة الرمدِ
A waterfall of light upon an eye suspended
A waterfall of light over a suspended eye
In its sorrow, dried by the cruelty of eye inflammation.
Its sorrow has dried it, the cruelty of cataracts
أنقىpurer منthan الطهرpurity فيin قلبٍa heart يشعُّradiating تقىpiety
أنقى من الطهر في قلبٍ يشعُّ تقى
أشهىmore desirable منthan الغيثِrain رنَّاناًresounding بلاwithout بردِhail
أشهى من الغيثِ رنَّاناً بلا بردِ
Purer than purity in a heart radiating piety,
Purer than purity in a heart shining with piety
Sweeter than rain, resounding without hail.
More luscious than rain melodiously without cold
صُبحاًas a dawn ولِدتَyou were born ووجهاًand a face ناصعاًradiant وفماًand a mouth
صُبحاً ولِدتَ ووجهاً ناصعاً وفماً
مغرداًsinging فيin زمانٍan age غاصsank فيinto النكدِmisery
مغرداً في زمانٍ غاص في النكدِ
You were born a dawn, a radiant face, and a mouth
In the morning you were born with a radiant face and mouth
Singing in an age sunk in misery.
Singing in a time sunk in gloom
مسترسلflowing freely مثلُlike ماءwater النبعthe spring مبتهجٌrejoicing
مسترسل مثلُ ماء النبع مبتهجٌ
فيin عالمٍa world تاهُlost its way فيin دوامةa whirlpool العقدcomplexes
في عالمٍ تاهُ في دوامة العقد
Flowing freely like springwater, rejoicing,
Flowing like a spring's water, cheerful
In a world lost in a whirlpool of complexes.
In a confused world swirling in dilemmas
نسيجُa weave وحدكِof your own ياO داريmy home " معلقةٌa hanging ode "
نسيجُ وحدكِ يا داري " معلقةٌ "
نفُكهاwe unravel it وهيand it تستعصيresists إلىuntil الأبدeternity
نفُكها وهي تستعصي إلى الأبد
One of a kind, my homeland—a 'hanging ode'
The fabric of your unity, O my home, is "suspended"
We unravel it, yet it defies us forever.
Impossible to unravel, defying eternally
هناhere ومنand from قِيضِthe shell هذاthis الرملthe sand أُغنيتيmy song
هنا ومن قِيضِ هذا الرمل أُغنيتي
أمدُّهاI extend it والهوىand love ضربa kind منof المددsupport
أمدُّها والهوى ضرب من المدد
Here, from the shell of this sand, my song—
I unleash it and passion is a form of support
I stretch it forth, and love is a kind of support.
I unleash it, a ray of light from my blood and mouth
أمُدُّهاI extend it حبلَa cord نورlight منfrom دميmy blood وفميand my mouth
أمُدُّها حبلَ نور من دمي وفمي
يصوغهاshapes it ياO جبالmountains المُنتهىthe farthest reach اتقديblaze!
يصوغها يا جبال المُنتهى اتقدي
I extend it, a cord of light from my blood, and my mouth
Which it forms, O mountains of endlessness ignite
Shapes it. O mountains of the farthest reach, blaze!
Flowing like the trilling of poetry, no cloud danced
مسترسلٌflowing freely مثلlike نوءِrain الشعرpoetry ماnot رقصتdanced
مسترسلٌ مثل نوءِ الشعر ما رقصت
غمامةٌa cloud منهfrom it إلاexcept فيin خيالthe imagination of صديa thirsty one
غمامةٌ منه إلا في خيال صدي
Flowing freely like poetry's rain; never has
Except in the imagination of echo
A cloud from it danced except in a thirsty one's imagination.
I searched everything for you, when I looked
فتَّشتُI searched فيin كلevery شيءٍthing عنكِfor you ماnot نظرتlooked
فتَّشتُ في كل شيءٍ عنكِ ما نظرت
عينايmy two eyes مثلَكَyour like ياO أنشودةa song الأمدthe span of time
عيناي مثلَكَ يا أنشودة الأمد
I searched for you in everything; never did
My eyes did not find a face like this face
My eyes behold your like, O song of time.
I dug for your grassy face, I did not find
نقَّبتُI delved عنfor وجهِكyour face العُشبيgrassy ماnot وجَدَتfound
نقَّبتُ عن وجهِك العُشبي ما وجَدَت
عينايmy two eyes وجهاًa face كهذاlike this الوجهthe face لمdid not أجدI find
عيناي وجهاً كهذا الوجه لم أجد
I delved for your grassy face; never did
Eyes like you, O ode of eternity
My eyes find a face like this face—I found none.
A poem you are, came dreaming
قصيدةٌa poem أنتyou جاءتcame وهيand it حالمةٌdreaming
قصيدةٌ أنت جاءت وهي حالمةٌ
ولمand did not يدُرْoccur بُعدهاits depth المخبوءhidden فيin خَلَدa mind
ولم يدُرْ بُعدها المخبوء في خَلَد
You are a poem that came dreaming,
And the hidden in immortality did not yet wake
And its hidden depth had never crossed anyone's mind.
These are not turbans worn by fools
هذيthese العمائمthe turbans ماnot عُمَّتwere wound علىin سفهٍfolly
هذي العمائم ما عُمَّت على سفهٍ
وإنْand even if تعلّقclung فيهاto them ألفُa thousand منتقدa critic
وإنْ تعلّق فيها ألفُ منتقد
These turbans were not wound in folly,
Even if a thousand critics cling to them
Even if a thousand critics cling to them.
These turbans conceal a mind ripened
هذيthese العمائمthe turbans تُخفيconceal هامةًa head نضجتmatured
هذي العمائم تُخفي هامةً نضجت
فيin بطنِthe heart of مكةَMecca تتلوreciting سورةa Quranic chapter " المسدal-Masad (Palm Fiber) "
في بطنِ مكةَ تتلو سورة " المسد "
These turbans conceal a head that matured
In Mecca's womb reciting Sura Al-Masad
In the heart of Mecca, reciting Surah al-Masad.
These turbans, no mind bent to them
هذيthese العمائمthe turbans ماnot مالتbowed لهاthey have عُقُلٌminds
هذي العمائم ما مالت لها عُقُلٌ
معقولةٌbound بعقالِby the tether of الواحدthe One الأحدthe Only
معقولةٌ بعقالِ الواحد الأحد
These turbans have never bowed; theirs are minds
Intelligible with the intellect of The One God
Bound by the tether of the One, the Only.
These turbans crafted love for the epic
هذيthese العمائمthe turbans صاغتfashioned عِشْقَthe passion of ملحمةِan epic
هذي العمائم صاغت عِشْقَ ملحمةِ
ومنand from ذُراthe summits of الحبlove تأتيcomes آفةُthe blight of الحسدenvy
ومن ذُرا الحب تأتي آفةُ الحسد
These turbans fashioned an epic's passion,
And the germs of love come the scourge of envy
And from love's summits comes the blight of envy.
What do I prepare for my fathers their feats
ماذاwhat أعُدُّshall I count لآبائيfor my forefathers مآثرُهُمْtheir noble deeds
ماذا أعُدُّ لآبائي مآثرُهُمْ
كونٌa universe منof الفخرpride لاnot أقوىI have strength علىfor العَددcounting
كونٌ من الفخر لا أقوى على العَدد
What shall I count for my forefathers? Their noble deeds—
A universe of pride, I cannot enumerate
A universe of pride, beyond my power to count.
And how do I count what the horses of God galloped
وكيفand how أُحصيI count لخيلfor the steeds of اللهGod ماwhat ركضتthey galloped
وكيف أُحصي لخيل الله ما ركضت
وكيفand how أُحصيI count عروقthe veins of الفخرِpride فيin جسديmy body
وكيف أُحصي عروق الفخرِ في جسدي
And how can I reckon all the galloping of God's steeds?
And how do I count the veins of pride in my body
And how can I count the veins of pride in my body?
And how do I shed my skin to expose my
وكيفand how أخرجُI emerge منfrom جلديmy skin لأشرحto explain عنabout
وكيف أخرجُ من جلدي لأشرح عن
قلبيmy heart وعنand about نخلةa palm tree تختالstruts فيin كبديmy liver
قلبي وعن نخلة تختال في كبدي
And how can I emerge from my skin to tell of
Heart and palm tree swaying in my chest
My heart, and of a palm tree strutting in my liver?
Without verses or pillars the love poem
عنabout القصيدةِthe poem لاno بيتٌa verse ولاand no عَمَدٌpillars
عن القصيدةِ لا بيتٌ ولا عَمَدٌ
قصائدpoems الحبِّlove لاnot تُبنىare built علىupon عَمَدpillars
قصائد الحبِّ لا تُبنى على عَمَد
Of the poem—no verse, no pillars;
Poems of love aren't built on pillars
Love poems are not built on pillars.
A cloud of fragrance comes fluttering nursing
تأتيit comes غمامةَa cloud عطرٍfragrance خفقَthe heartbeat of مُرضِعةa nursing mother
تأتي غمامةَ عطرٍ خفقَ مُرضِعة
صيغتwas fashioned لهاfor her لُغةُthe language of الأحلامdreams فيin وَلَدa child
صيغت لها لُغةُ الأحلام في وَلَد
It comes as a cloud of fragrance, a nursing mother's heartbeat,
The language of dreams was molded for it as a child
For whom the language of dreams was fashioned in a child.
It comes like your face gleefully and minaret
تأتيit comes كوجهكlike your face تهليلاًa chant of God's oneness ومئذنةand a minaret
تأتي كوجهك تهليلاً ومئذنة
مادتswayed وجوهthe faces of الرّواسيthe firm mountains وهيand it لمdid not تَمِدsway
مادت وجوه الرّواسي وهي لم تَمِد
It comes like your face—a chant of God's oneness and a minaret;
Leaning while the spires did not extend
The faces of the firm mountains swayed, yet it did not sway.
No adulteress lurked in the sky of love
ماnot حلّقتsoared فيin فضاءthe sky of الحبِّlove موبِقةٌa deadly sin
ما حلّقت في فضاء الحبِّ موبِقةٌ
إلاexcept وكانتand was لهاfor it يمناكَyour right hand بالرصدlying in wait
إلا وكانت لها يمناكَ بالرصد
No deadly sin ever soared in love's sky
Except with your blessing keeping watch
Without your right hand lying in wait for it.
O my inspirer, tattoos do not avail imprinted
ياO ملهميmy inspirer لاnot يفيدis useful الوشمُthe tattoo أرسمهI draw it
يا ملهمي لا يفيد الوشمُ أرسمه
تميمةًa talisman عنagainst عواديthe assaults of الدَّهرtime فوقَupon يديmy hand
تميمةً عن عوادي الدَّهر فوقَ يدي
O my inspirer, the tattoo I draw is of no use—
As talismans against the smooth talker's hands
A talisman on my hand against time's assaults.
I believe you are the loftiest story ever written
آمنتI believed أنّكthat you أسمىthe loftiest قصةٍa story كتبتwas written
آمنت أنّك أسمى قصةٍ كتبت
بأحرفٍin letters أشربتwere imbued منfrom خيرthe best معتقدِcreed
بأحرفٍ أشربت من خير معتقدِ
I believe you are the loftiest story ever written,
In letters that drank from the best faith
In letters steeped in the finest creed.
O my inspirer, each day births a thousand
ياO مُلهميmy inspirer كلُّevery يومٍday ألفُa thousand والدةٍa woman giving birth
يا مُلهمي كلُّ يومٍ ألفُ والدةٍ
لكنَّbut مثلَكyour like هذاthis الكونthe universe لمhas not يلدgiven birth
لكنَّ مثلَك هذا الكون لم يلد
O my inspirer, each day a thousand mothers give birth,
But the cosmos never birthed your like
But this universe has never given birth to your like.
Partial English translation: 55 of 56 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1