وناطقةٍand a speaking thing كلَّماwhenever حُرّكتْit is set in motion
وناطقةٍ كلَّما حُرّكتْ
وليستْand it is not بناطقةٍa speaker فيin السكونِstillness
وليستْ بناطقةٍ في السكونِ
And a thing that speaks whenever it is set in motion,
She speaks whenever she is stirred,
Yet does not speak when at rest.
Though silent when at rest unstirred,
تئِنّit groans إذاwhen دارَturns دُولابُهاits wheel
تئِنّ إذا دارَ دُولابُها
فتُطرِبُso it delights سامعَهاits listener بالأَنينِwith groaning
فتُطرِبُ سامعَها بالأَنينِ
It groans when its wheel turns,
She moans when her wheel is turned,
So it delights its listener with its groaning.
Disturbing the hearer with her moan.
وتَبكيand it weeps وليستand it is not بمحزونةٍsorrowful
وتَبكي وليست بمحزونةٍ
بكاءَweeping المِحبِّthe lover الكئِيبِdejected الحزِينِgrieving
بكاءَ المِحبِّ الكئِيبِ الحزِينِ
And it weeps, though it is not sorrowful,
She weeps though not at all forlorn,
With the weeping of a dejected, grieving lover.
Weeping like a woeful lover lorn,
فتَنطِقso it speaks بالصوتِwith sound لاnot مِنfrom فمٍa mouth
فتَنطِق بالصوتِ لا مِن فمٍ
وتَقذِفand it casts forth بالدَّمْعِwith tears لاnot مِنfrom جفونeyelids
وتَقذِف بالدَّمْعِ لا مِن جفون
So it speaks aloud, but not from a mouth,
She speaks with voice and not with mouth,
And casts forth tears, but not from eyelids.
And sheds tears not from eyelids, lo!
كأنّas though لهاit has ميّتاًa dead person فيin الثَّرَىthe soil
كأنّ لها ميّتاً في الثَّرَى
فأدمُعُهاso its tears هُمَّعٌpouring down كلَّevery حِينِmoment
فأدمُعُها هُمَّعٌ كلَّ حِينِ
As though it had someone dead beneath the soil,
As though she had one dead below,
So its tears pour down at every moment.
Her tears in ceaseless torrents flow.
إذاwhen زَمَرَتit pipes أطرَبتْit delights نفسَهاitself
إذا زَمَرَت أطرَبتْ نفسَها
فغنّتso it sings بمختلِفاتِwith varied اللُّحونِmelodies
فغنّت بمختلِفاتِ اللُّحونِ
When it pipes, it delights itself,
When she sings in various tone,
Then sings in varied melodies:
She enraptures her own self alone,
غِناءًsinging يُرقِّصmakes dance كِيزانهَاits jugs
غِناءً يُرقِّص كِيزانهَا
ويُظهِرand reveals فِيهنّin them وثبَthe leaping of المجُونِwanton revelry
ويُظهِر فِيهنّ وثبَ المجُونِ
A song that makes its jugs dance,
Singing a song that makes her wheel
And reveals in them the leaping of wanton revelry.
Whirl, and her madness reveal.
فتَهويthen they plunge فَوارغَempty فيinto بِئرِهاits well
فتَهوي فَوارغَ في بِئرِها
وتصعَدُand they rise مِنهاfrom it مِلاءَfull العيونِthe eyes
وتصعَدُ مِنها مِلاءَ العيونِ
Then they plunge empty into its well,
She pours her empty songs down her well,
And rise from it, their eyes brimming.
And from it a tearful torrent well,
كأنّas though مَدامِعَهاits tear-streams فِضّةٌsilver
كأنّ مَدامِعَها فِضّةٌ
مذوّبةٌmolten لونُهاits color أَسْمجُونيsky-blue
مذوّبةٌ لونُها أَسْمجُوني
As though its streams of tears were silver,
Her tears are like molten silver, I ween,
Molten, sky-blue in hue.
Their hue is as pure white silver sheen.
Sol 6.1