أَلاAh! ياO لَقومِيmy people, to the rescue لاِعتِنانِagainst the onset of النّوائبِcalamities
أَلا يا لَقومِي لاِعتِنانِ النّوائبِ
وَللغُصنِand for the branch يُرمىis struck كلَّevery يومٍday بشاذِبٍby a pruner
وَللغُصنِ يُرمى كلَّ يومٍ بشاذِبٍ
Ah, my people, help against calamities' onslaught!
Alas, my people, beware the strokes of fate,
And for the branch, struck each day by a pruner!
And the branch battered daily by the lopper.
وَللنّاسُand for people إمّاeither ظاعنٌone departing حانَhas come يومُهُhis day
وَللنّاسُ إمّا ظاعنٌ حانَ يومُهُ
وَإمّاor else مقيمٌone remaining لاِجتراعِto gulp down المصائبِcalamities
وَإمّا مقيمٌ لاِجتراعِ المصائبِ
And among people, one departs when his day has come,
People are either glorious till their day is done,
Or one remains to swallow calamities.
Or long enduring of disasters heaped upon them.
وَزَوْرُand the visitor of المَناياdeath إِنْif حَميناهwe bar him جانباًon one side
وَزَوْرُ المَنايا إِنْ حَميناه جانباً
أَتاناcomes to us كَأَنْas though لَمْnot يُحْمَhe had been barred مِنfrom كلِّevery جانبِside
أَتانا كَأَنْ لَمْ يُحْمَ مِن كلِّ جانبِ
And death's visitor, if we bar him on one side,
And death's deception - if we shun its edge
Comes to us, as though unbarred, from every side.
Comes round as though we hadn't shunned each side.
يُعطُّtears apart عَليناupon us كلَّevery سَرْدٍcoat of mail مضاعفٍdoubled
يُعطُّ عَلينا كلَّ سَرْدٍ مضاعفٍ
ويخطوand strides past إليناtoward us كلَّevery بابٍdoor وحاجِبِand doorkeeper
ويخطو إلينا كلَّ بابٍ وحاجِبِ
He tears through every doubled coat of mail upon us,
It loads on us blow after redoubled blow,
And strides past every door and doorkeeper to reach us.
Steps toward us through each door and crevice.
وكمand how many a هاربٍfugitive مِنْfrom أنْthat يلاقِيَهُshould meet him الرّدىdeath
وكم هاربٍ مِنْ أنْ يلاقِيَهُ الرّدى
مُغذٍّhurrying ولكنْbut لاno نجاءَescape لهاربِfor a fugitive
مُغذٍّ ولكنْ لا نجاءَ لهاربِ
How many a fugitive, fleeing lest death meet him,
So many flee, hoping to evade its havoc,
Hastens on—yet no fugitive can escape.
Though fed by it - no refuge for the fleer!
نُقِلُّwe do little اِعتِباراًreflection فيupon الزّمانِtime تغابياًfeigning ignorance
نُقِلُّ اِعتِباراً في الزّمانِ تغابياً
وَأَبصارُناand our eyes مَملوءَةٌfilled بالعجائبِwith wonders
وَأَبصارُنا مَملوءَةٌ بالعجائبِ
We reflect little upon time, feigning ignorance,
We are but fodder for time's treadmill treading,
Though our eyes are filled with wonders.
Our eyes filled up with freaks and prodigies.
وَنَصبوand we yearn إِلىfor وِرْدِthe watering place of الحياةِlife وصرفُهاand its vicissitudes
وَنَصبو إِلى وِرْدِ الحياةِ وصرفُها
يذودُdrives away بناus عنهاfrom it ذِيادَthe driving off of الغرائبِstrange camels
يذودُ بنا عنها ذِيادَ الغرائبِ
We yearn for life's watering place, while its vicissitudes
We flock to life's parade and drink it in,
Drive us from it as strange camels are driven away.
Though marvels of the strange repel us from it.
بُليناwe are afflicted منَby الدّنياthe world بِخلْفٍwith a teat مُجَدَّدٍrun dry
بُلينا منَ الدّنيا بِخلْفٍ مُجَدَّدٍ
وَإِنeven though درَّit yields milk أَحياناًsometimes بِأَيدِيbeneath the hands of الحوالبِmilkers
وَإِن درَّ أَحياناً بِأَيدِي الحوالبِ
The world has afflicted us with a teat run dry,
We've drained the cup of this world's changeful days,
Though sometimes it yields milk beneath the milkers' hands.
Though sometimes loosed by hands of players.
وَنَظْماand we thirst إلىfor ماwhat لاnot يَزالُceases يُذيقُناto make us taste
وَنَظْما إلى ما لا يَزالُ يُذيقُنا
لُعابَthe spittle of الأَفاعِيvipers أَوor شِيالَthe raised tails of العَقاربِscorpions
لُعابَ الأَفاعِي أَو شِيالَ العَقاربِ
And we thirst for what never ceases to make us taste
And rhythmically the death we're dealt still gives us
The spittle of vipers or the raised tails of scorpions.
The asps' venom or the scorpions' stings to taste.
وَخِلٍّand a friend تَولّىcarried away المَوتُdeath عنّيfrom me بِشَخصِهِwith his person
وَخِلٍّ تَولّى المَوتُ عنّي بِشَخصِهِ
توَلِّيَthe departure of مُمتدِّfar-reaching النّوىseparation غيرِnot آيبِreturning
توَلِّيَ مُمتدِّ النّوى غيرِ آيبِ
And a friend whose very person death carried away from me,
My friend whose death took off its mourning for me -
Departing into far-reaching separation, never to return.
Not like the writs of plaint or censure-bearing.
كَأنِّيَas though I لمّاwhen صكَّstruck سَمعيmy hearing نَعِيُّهُnews of his death
كَأنِّيَ لمّا صكَّ سَمعي نَعِيُّهُ
صُكِكْتُI was struck بمسنونِwith a sharpened الغِرارينtwo edges قَاضبِcutting sword
صُكِكْتُ بمسنونِ الغِرارين قَاضبِ
As though, when tidings of his death struck my hearing,
It shrouded him in death's most ample robe, and stilled
I was struck with a cutting sword, sharpened on both edges.
The songs of praise, repute's proud trumpeting.
وَفارقنيand he parted from me مِنfrom غيرِno شَيءٍthing أرابَهthat disquieted him
وَفارقني مِن غيرِ شَيءٍ أرابَه
وَصدُّand the withdrawal of المقاصِيone far away غيرُis not صدِّthe withdrawal of المعاتِبِone reproaching
وَصدُّ المقاصِي غيرُ صدِّ المعاتِبِ
He parted from me without anything to disquiet him;
My friends, mourn one whose nearness gave me joy
The withdrawal of one far away is not a reproacher's.
A time, from hearing suffering's threnodies.
طَواهُfolded him away الرّدىdeath طيَّthe folding of الرِّداءِa cloak وعُطِّلتْand were left desolate
طَواهُ الرّدى طيَّ الرِّداءِ وعُطِّلتْ
مَغانِيthe dwellings of الحِجىwisdom منهُin him وغُرُّand the radiant المناقبِvirtues
مَغانِي الحِجى منهُ وغُرُّ المناقبِ
Death folded him away like a cloak, and left desolate
For my desire of him - true, guileless -
The dwellings of wisdom in him and his radiant virtues.
Of pure complexion, free from blames degrading.
خَليليَّmy two friends قوماrise, both of you فَاِندُباthen lament, both of you مَنْthe one بِقُربِهthrough his nearness
خَليليَّ قوما فَاِندُبا مَنْ بِقُربِه
لَهَوْتُI was diverted زَماناًfor a time عنfrom سَماعِhearing النوادِبِlamenting women
لَهَوْتُ زَماناً عن سَماعِ النوادِبِ
My two friends, rise and lament him whose company
My cousin in true love, my nearest kin,
For a time diverted me from hearing lamenting women.
My closest chum, if e'er my chum proved faithless.
وَياand O لَهْفَتِيmy anguish منهُover him عَلىfor ذِيone possessed of مَودّةٍaffection
وَيا لَهْفَتِي منهُ عَلى ذِي مَودّةٍ
بَريءِfree الأَديمِskin مِنfrom قروفِthe stains of المَعايبِfaults
بَريءِ الأَديمِ مِن قروفِ المَعايبِ
And oh, my anguish for him, a man of affection,
He whom I never grudged sincere respect,
Whose skin was free of the stains of faults.
Nor faulted for perverse and crooked thinking.
نَسيبِيَmy kinsman بِالوُدِّthrough affection الصحيحِtrue وأَقْربيand my closest kin
نَسيبِيَ بِالوُدِّ الصحيحِ وأَقْربي
وَصاحِبيَand my companion الأدْنىclosest إِذاwhen اِزوَرَّturned away صاحِبيmy companion
وَصاحِبيَ الأدْنى إِذا اِزوَرَّ صاحِبي
My kinsman through true affection, and my closest kin,
A flavor, as if immortality were sweet
And my nearest companion when my companion turned away.
To one who tastes it, as if wine flowed clear for drinker.
وَمَنْand one كُنتُI used to لاnot أُفضِيdisclose لَهto him بِخليقةٍa character trait
وَمَنْ كُنتُ لا أُفضِي لَه بِخليقةٍ
وَلاnor أَشتكِيcomplain منهُof him اِعوِجاجَthe crookedness of المذاهبِways
وَلا أَشتكِي منهُ اِعوِجاجَ المذاهبِ
And one to whom I never voiced a fault of character,
And when I tried true friends and their affection,
Nor complained of crooked ways in him.
I singled him out from life's tangled trials;
مَذاقٌa savor كَماjust as يَحلوis sweet الشّهادُhoney لِذائقٍto a taster
مَذاقٌ كَما يَحلو الشّهادُ لِذائقٍ
وَصَفوٌand clarity كَماjust as يَصفوis clear الشّرابُdrink لشاربِto a drinker
وَصَفوٌ كَما يَصفو الشّرابُ لشاربِ
A savor sweet as honey to the taster,
So fastened I my heart to him, filled with longing,
And clarity, as drink is clear to the drinker.
Shut in my hands on him, grasped in my fingers.
وَلَمّاand when بَلَوْتُI tested الأَصدقاءَfriends ووُدَّهُمand their affection
وَلَمّا بَلَوْتُ الأَصدقاءَ ووُدَّهُم
خلصْتُI made my way إِليهِto him مِنthrough خِلالthe course of التّجارِبِtrials
خلصْتُ إِليهِ مِن خِلال التّجارِبِ
And when I tested friends and their affection,
For him we split the sod, as though we'd pierced
I found my way to him through the course of those trials.
A lore of tenderness from it, with yearning.
فَأَعْلَقتُso I bound قلبيmy heart منهُof him مِلْءa fill of جَوانِحيmy breast
فَأَعْلَقتُ قلبي منهُ مِلْء جَوانِحي
وَأَغلقتُand I closed كفِّيmy hand منهof him مِلْءَa fill of رواجِبيmy finger-joints
وَأَغلقتُ كفِّي منه مِلْءَ رواجِبي
So I bound my heart to him, filling my breast,
And from the sides of his grave gently sifted
And closed my hand upon him, filling my finger-joints.
A soil on which the sweet rain poured its freshness.
شَقَقناwe dug لهُfor him فيin التُّربِthe earth بيتاًa house كَأنّماas though
شَقَقنا لهُ في التُّربِ بيتاً كَأنّما
شَقَقناهُwe dug it مِنْout of وَجْدٍgrief بِهfor him فيin التَرائبِthe breastbones
شَقَقناهُ مِنْ وَجْدٍ بِه في التَرائبِ
We dug him a house in the earth, as though
Alas! Left to sadness without him,
In grief for him we had dug it in our own breastbones.
Indeed for loss of you I'm ever sad.
وَهِلْناand we heaped عليهِover him مِنfrom جَوانبِthe sides of قبرِهِhis grave
وَهِلْنا عليهِ مِن جَوانبِ قبرِهِ
ثَرىًearth طابَgrew fragrant لمّاwhen مسَّit touched طِيبَthe goodness of الضّرائِبِnatural dispositions
ثَرىً طابَ لمّا مسَّ طِيبَ الضّرائِبِ
And we heaped over him, from the sides of his grave,
You died, but in destruction, not in loss
Earth that grew fragrant upon touching his sweet nature.
You died; yet lost to me - my hopes, desires!
أَياO ذاهِباًdeparted one بُقّيتُI was left alive لِلحزنِfor sorrow بعدَهُafter him
أَيا ذاهِباً بُقّيتُ لِلحزنِ بعدَهُ
أَلاbehold إِنَّنيindeed I حزناًin sorrow عَليكfor you كَذاهبِlike one departing
أَلا إِنَّني حزناً عَليك كَذاهبِ
O departed one, I was left behind to grieve;
So I'm a lone and single man, but for
Indeed, in grief for you I am as one departed.
A visitor who brings me pensive thoughts.
تُوُفّيتَyou died دونِيbefore me غَيرَyet أَنَّكَthat you هالكاًwhile dying
تُوُفّيتَ دونِي غَيرَ أَنَّكَ هالكاً
توفّيتَyou took away آمالِيmy hopes وعُلْتَand you overwhelmed مطالبِيmy aspirations
توفّيتَ آمالِي وعُلْتَ مطالبِي
You died before me, yet, in dying,
And had it not been Time that you subdued,
You carried off my hopes and overwhelmed my aspirations.
We would have struck at it with swords and lances.
فَأَصبحتُso I became فَرْدَalone الشّخصin person لولاwere it not for تلهّفٌyearning
فَأَصبحتُ فَرْدَ الشّخص لولا تلهّفٌ
يَزورvisits بِسارٍwith a night-roamer مِنamong همومٍcares وسارِبِand a day-roamer
يَزور بِسارٍ مِن همومٍ وسارِبِ
So I became a lone figure, but for a yearning
And men, true men of Lu'ayy ibn Ghalib
That visits with cares journeying by night and roaming by day.
Would have repelled your wrong, till wrong retreated.
وَلَوْand if أنّthat غيرother than الدّهرTime رابكَafflicted you بالرّدىwith death
وَلَوْ أنّ غير الدّهر رابكَ بالرّدى
عَجِلناwe would have hastened إِليهِto him بالقناwith spears والقواضبِand cutting swords
عَجِلنا إِليهِ بالقنا والقواضبِ
And had anyone but Time afflicted you with death,
When called, they take to ghoul-infested battle
We would have hastened against him with spears and cutting swords.
On steeds trained late and early for the noblest war,
وَدافَعَand would have warded off عنكَfrom you الضّيمَwrong حتّىuntil يزيغهthey turned it aside
وَدافَعَ عنكَ الضّيمَ حتّى يزيغه
رِجالٌmen رجالٌtrue men مِنof لويّLu'ayy بنson of غالبِGhalib
رِجالٌ رجالٌ مِن لويّ بن غالبِ
And the wrong done you would have been fought off until driven back
Daring, rapacious horsemen, preying on
By men—true men—of Lu'ayy ibn Ghalib.
The necks of death or backs of boasters.
إِذاwhen ماemphatic particle دُعواthey were called طارواthey flew إِلىto حَومَةِthe thick of الوغىbattle
إِذا ما دُعوا طاروا إِلى حَومَةِ الوغى
عَلىon كلِّevery مَعروقِfleshless الجناجِنِbreastbones شازِبِlean
عَلى كلِّ مَعروقِ الجناجِنِ شازِبِ
When called, they fly to the thick of battle,
And how oft for each formidable task
On every lean steed with gaunt breastbones.
Their bared arms rally, or their ranks engage!
جَريئونَfearless رَكّابونriders إِمّاwhen تنمّرواthey grew leopard-fierce
جَريئونَ رَكّابون إِمّا تنمّروا
رقابَthe necks of المناياdeath أوor ظهورَthe backs of المعاطِبِmortal perils
رقابَ المنايا أو ظهورَ المعاطِبِ
Fearless, riding—when they rage like leopards—
May God water - for you it covers - the grave
The necks of death or the backs of mortal perils.
That you have filled, now sated with pouring rain,
وَكَمand how often لهُمُtheirs فيat بابthe door of كلّevery عظيمةٍgreat ordeal
وَكَم لهُمُ في باب كلّ عظيمةٍ
قراعُa clash of أَكفٍّhands أَوor زِحامُa press of مناكبِshoulders
قراعُ أَكفٍّ أَو زِحامُ مناكبِ
And how often, at the door of every great ordeal, theirs is
Its thunder shakes the atmosphere with crashes,
A clash of hands or a press of shoulders.
Its lightning kindles flame and gleam above it.
سقَىmay water اللَّهGod قَبراًa grave كنتَyou were حشوَthe filling of ضريحهِits burial chamber
سقَى اللَّه قَبراً كنتَ حشوَ ضريحهِ
غزيرَabundant الحواياinner stores مستهلّpouring الهيادِبِtrailing fringes
غزيرَ الحوايا مستهلّ الهيادِبِ
May God water the grave whose chamber you filled
Though from it the north wind tears away its coolness
With a full-bellied cloud, its fringes streaming.
On hasty wings constructed by the south wind;
تَقَعقَعُrattle فيin جوّthe expanse of السّماءِthe sky رعودُهits thunders
تَقَعقَعُ في جوّ السّماءِ رعودُه
ويوقِدand kindles فيهwithin it البرقُlightning نارَthe fire of الحُباحبِHubahib
ويوقِد فيه البرقُ نارَ الحُباحبِ
Its thunders rattle in the sky's expanse,
Why should I pray the clouds to rain upon it
And lightning kindles Hubahib's fire within it.
When I have wept for it in flood, torrents?
وَإِنْand if مزّقتْtears apart عنهoff it الشّمالthe north wind برودَهits striped cloaks
وَإِنْ مزّقتْ عنه الشّمال برودَه
عَلىin عَجَلٍhaste حاكَتْهweave it أيديthe hands of الجنائبِsouthern winds
عَلى عَجَلٍ حاكَتْه أيدي الجنائبِ
And if the north wind tears its striped cloaks away,
The hands of southern winds swiftly weave it anew.
وَماand why لِيَfor me أَستسقِيask for rain from الغمامَthe clouds لقبرِهِfor his grave
وَما لِيَ أَستسقِي الغمامَ لقبرِهِ
وقدwhen already نُبْتُI have substituted عنهfor it بالدّموِعwith tears السّواكبِstreaming
وقد نُبْتُ عنه بالدّموِع السّواكبِ
Why should I ask the clouds to water his grave,
When I have already taken their place with streaming tears?
Partial English translation: 64 of 68 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1