مَضَى وَبِعالي الصَّرحِ فارِيسُ جانِحُ

مَضَى وَبِعالي الصَّرحِ فارِيسُ جانِحُ

إِلى الحَربِ مِنهُ تَسَطِيرُ الجَوانِح

إِلى الحَربِ مِنهُ تَسَطِيرُ الجَوانِح

He went on; high in the palace, Paris yearned

He passed by, and with his lofty palace soaring,

for war, his heart fluttering within him.

To war he marched, his heart for battle yearning,

بُعدَّةِ فًولاذٍ تَأَلَّقَ نُورُها

بُعدَّةِ فًولاذٍ تَأَلَّقَ نُورُها

جَرى وَهوَ بَينَ الطُرقِ كالبَرقِ رامِحُ

جَرى وَهوَ بَينَ الطُرقِ كالبَرقِ رامِحُ

In steel armor, its radiance gleaming,

With weapons glittering, their light radiating,

he ran, racing through the streets like lightning.

He rode amidst the paths like lightning burning,

كَمُهرٍ عَتِيٍّ فَاضَ مَطعَمُهُ على

كَمُهرٍ عَتِيٍّ فَاضَ مَطعَمُهُ على

رَبائِطِهِ يَبتَتُّها وَهوَ جَامِحُ

رَبائِطِهِ يَبتَتُّها وَهوَ جَامِحُ

Like a headstrong colt, richly fed, straining against

A steed unbroken, frothing at the bit,

his tethers, snapping them as he runs wild,

Trampling the ground while urgently spurring,

ويَضرِبُ في قَلبِ المَفاوِزِ طافِحاً

ويَضرِبُ في قَلبِ المَفاوِزِ طافِحاً

إلى حَيثُ قَلبُ الأَرضِ بالسَّيلِ طافِحُ

إلى حَيثُ قَلبُ الأَرضِ بالسَّيلِ طافِحُ

and striking out, bounding through the heart of the wilderness,

Galloping through the desert sands so vast,

toward where the heart of the land brims with floodwater.

To where the land with flooding streams was stirring,

يُرَوِّضُ فِيهِ إِثرَ ما اعتادَ نَفسَهُ

يُرَوِّضُ فِيهِ إِثرَ ما اعتادَ نَفسَهُ

وَيَطرَبُ أَن تَبدُو لَدَيهِ الضَّحاضِحُ

وَيَطرَبُ أَن تَبدُو لَدَيهِ الضَّحاضِحُ

There he exercises himself, following his accustomed ways,

There to pursue what he was wont to do,

and delights to see the shallows before him.

Impatient till the battle drums were stirring,

وَيَشمُخُ مُختَالاً بِشَائِقِ حُسنِهِ

وَيَشمُخُ مُختَالاً بِشَائِقِ حُسنِهِ

يَطِيرُ وَأَعرَافُ النَّوَاصِي سَوَابشحُ

يَطِيرُ وَأَعرَافُ النَّوَاصِي سَوَابشحُ

He holds his head high, proud of his alluring beauty;

Prancing in pride with graceful beauty blessed,

he flies, the long hairs of his forelock streaming.

Flying while forelock strands were wildly swirling,

وَتَجري بِهِ مِن نَفسهِا خُطَواتُهُ

وَتَجري بِهِ مِن نَفسهِا خُطَواتُهُ

إِلى حيثُ غَصَّت بالحُجُورِ المَسارِحُ

إِلى حيثُ غَصَّت بالحُجُورِ المَسارِحُ

And his strides carry him onward of their own accord

His steps led by his soul’s own urging will

to where the pastures are crowded with mares.

To crowds of warriors in each tent converging,

كَذا كانَ فارِيسٌ وَقد جَدَّ مُسرِعاً

كَذا كانَ فارِيسٌ وَقد جَدَّ مُسرِعاً

عَلَيهِ كُنُورِ الشَّمسِ تَزهُو الصَّفَائِحُ

عَلَيهِ كُنُورِ الشَّمسِ تَزهُو الصَّفَائِحُ

So was Paris, as he pressed on swiftly,

Thus was Paris when hastening ahead

the armor plates upon him gleaming like sunlight.

In sunlight gleaming, standards gaily stirring,

فَاَدرَكَ هَلطُوراَ عَنِ الأَهلِ قد نَأَى

فَاَدرَكَ هَلطُوراَ عَنِ الأَهلِ قد نَأَى

تَحُثُّ خُطاهُ لِلكِفَاحِ القًَرَائحُ

تَحُثُّ خُطاهُ لِلكِفَاحِ القًَرَائحُ

Then he caught up with Hector, already far from his family,

He met a warrior from his clan now far,

his inner ardor urging his steps toward combat.

Whose steps were urged by battle’s urgent stirring,

فَقالَ أَخي إِني أَرانِيَ مُبطِئاً

فَقالَ أَخي إِني أَرانِيَ مُبطِئاً

فَعَزمِيَ مَرجُوحٌ وَعَزمُكَ رَاجِحُ

فَعَزمِيَ مَرجُوحٌ وَعَزمُكَ رَاجِحُ

and said, “Brother, I see that I have been slow;

He said “My brother, I confess I lag,

for my resolve weighs less, and yours weighs more.”

My will outweighed while yours is overriding.”

فَقالَ أَيا فارِيسُ ما كانَ مُنصِفٌ

فَقالَ أَيا فارِيسُ ما كانَ مُنصِفٌ

لِيَبخَسَكَ القَدرَ الذي أَنت رابِحُ

لِيَبخَسَكَ القَدرَ الذي أَنت رابِحُ

He replied, “O Paris, no fair-minded man

He said “Nay Paris, none could justly say

would deny you the honor you have earned.

You fall short of the meed you are deserving,

فَأَنتَ أَخُو البَأسِ الشَّدِيدِ وَإِنَّما

فَأَنتَ أَخُو البَأسِ الشَّدِيدِ وَإِنَّما

بِوَجدِكَ قَد تَثنِيكَ عَنهُ الجَوَارِحُ

بِوَجدِكَ قَد تَثنِيكَ عَنهُ الجَوَارِحُ

For you are a man of fierce valor; it is only

For you're the arm of might in danger’s hour,

your passion that may make your limbs turn you from it.

Though love may make your heart from war diverting,

وَيَلتَاحُ قَلبِي إِن لَحَتكَ جُنُودُنا

وَيَلتَاحُ قَلبِي إِن لَحَتكَ جُنُودُنا

وَأَنتَ مَدَارُ الخَطبِ والخَطبُ فادِحُ

وَأَنتَ مَدَارُ الخَطبِ والخَطبُ فادِحُ

And my heart is seared when our troops reproach you,

My heart would grieve if you in battle fell,

while you are the pivot of the crisis, and the crisis is crushing.

You, midst the fray, our greatest pride and glory.”

فَهِيِّ فَلَيسَ الآن لِلبَحثِ مَوضِعٌ

فَهِيِّ فَلَيسَ الآن لِلبَحثِ مَوضِعٌ

سَنَبسُطُهُ إِن لَم تُبدنا المَذَابِحُ

سَنَبسُطُهُ إِن لَم تُبدنا المَذَابِحُ

So come, for now there is no occasion for discussion;

“No time for talk, unless the slaughter calls,

we shall discuss it fully if the slaughter does not destroy us.

We’ll speak again if bloodshed ends our story,

وَإِن شاءَ زَفسٌ أَن يُقَيِّضَ نُصرَةً

وَإِن شاءَ زَفسٌ أَن يُقَيِّضَ نُصرَةً

وَيَدفَعَ أَقواماً شِدَاداً نُكَافِحُ

وَيَدفَعَ أَقواماً شِدَاداً نُكَافِحُ

And if Zeus wills to grant victory

And if triumphant we return someday,

and drive back the fierce peoples we fight,

Vanquishing foes in many a field so gory,

ستُرفَعُ أَقدَاحُ المَسَرَّةِ وَالتُّقَى

ستُرفَعُ أَقدَاحُ المَسَرَّةِ وَالتُّقَى

وَتُذكَى لأَربابِ الأَنامِ الذَّبائِحُ

وَتُذكَى لأَربابِ الأَنامِ الذَّبائِحُ

cups of joy and piety shall be raised,

Then cups of joy and peace will be upraised,

and sacrificial beasts shall be slain for the lords of humankind.”

And victims for the tribes prepared as offerings.”