تَأَوَّبَنِيrevisited me at night الدَّاءُthe malady الَّذِيwhich أَنَاI حَاذِرُهْwary of it
تَأَوَّبَنِي الدَّاءُ الَّذِي أَنَا حَاذِرُهْ
كَمَاjust as اعْتَادَhabitually revisited مَكْمُوناًa sufferer with hidden eye-disease مِنَduring الليْلهthe night عَائِرُهْhis eye-pain
كَمَا اعْتَادَ مَكْمُوناً مِنَ الليْله عَائِرُهْ
The malady I dread returned to haunt me at night,
The malady I fear has afflicted me
as eye-pain returns by night to one with a hidden eye-disease.
As if making a nightly round accustomed to me
تَأَوَّبَrevisited at night دَائِيmy malady مَنْone who يَعِفُّabstains مُشَاشُهُhis soft bone-ends
تَأَوَّبَ دَائِي مَنْ يَعِفُّ مُشَاشُهُ
عَنfrom الجَارِthe neighbor لاَnot يَشْقَىsuffers بِهِthrough him مَنْwhoever يُعَاشِرُهْkeeps his company
عَن الجَارِ لاَ يَشْقَى بِهِ مَنْ يُعَاشِرُهْ
My malady revisited a man whose very bones refrain
My illness has weakened one whose frailty oppresses him
from encroaching on his neighbor; no companion suffers because of him.
A neighbor is not tormented by one who associates with him
ومَنْand one who يَمْنَعُspares النَّابَthe old she-camel السَّمِينَةthe fat هَمَّهَاher distress
ومَنْ يَمْنَعُ النَّابَ السَّمِينَة هَمَّهَا
إِذَاwhen الخُفُّthe camel-herd أَمْسَىreaches evening وهْوَwhile it is جَدْبُbarren مَصَادِرُهْits return-pastures
إِذَا الخُفُّ أَمْسَى وهْوَ جَدْبُ مَصَادِرُهْ
And one who spares the fat old she-camel her distress
And one who denies the plump she-camel her desire
when the camel-herd reaches evening with barren return-pastures.
When the shoe is worn his going about has dried up its source
وأَهَتَضِمُand I humble الخَالَthe proud man العَزِيزَthe powerful وأَنْتَحِيand I turn to attack
وأَهَتَضِمُ الخَالَ العَزِيزَ وأَنْتَحِي
عَلَيْهِagainst him إِذَاwhen ضَلَّlost الطَّرِيقَthe way مَنَاقِرُهْhis challenger
عَلَيْهِ إِذَا ضَلَّ الطَّرِيقَ مَنَاقِرُهْ
And I humble the proud, powerful man, and turn
And I digest the dear gazelle meat and flourish
against him when his challenger loses the way.
When its way is lost its beak picks the road
ولاَand not أَشْتَكِيI complain of العُفَّىthe gift-seekers ولاَand not يَخْدُمُونَنيthey serve me
ولاَ أَشْتَكِي العُفَّى ولاَ يَخْدُمُونَني
إِذَاwhen هَرَّsnarled دُونguarding اللَّحْمِthe meat والفَرْثِand the paunch-contents جَازِرُهْits slaughterer
إِذَا هَرَّ دُون اللَّحْمِ والفَرْثِ جَازِرُهْ
I do not complain of gift-seekers, nor do they serve me,
Nor do I complain of mange nor do they serve me
when its slaughterer snarls, guarding the meat and the paunch-contents.
When the butcher has fled before the meat and sinews
ولاَand not أَصْطَفِيI select لَحْمَthe flesh السَّنَامِof the hump ذَخِيرَةًas a reserve
ولاَ أَصْطَفِي لَحْمَ السَّنَامِ ذَخِيرَةً
إِذَاwhen رِيحَthe scent المِسْكِof musk بِالَّليْلِat night قَاتِرُهْits roasting-smoke
إِذَا رِيحَ المِسْكِ بِالَّليْلِ قَاتِرُهْ
Nor do I select the hump-meat as a reserve
Nor do I choose the flesh of cattle as provision
when its roasting-smoke smells of musk at night.
When the fragrance of musk roams in the night, its scent lingering
ولاَand not يَأْمَنُfeel safe الأَعْدَاءُthe enemies مِنَّيfrom me قَذِيعَةًa scathing insult
ولاَ يَأْمَنُ الأَعْدَاءُ مِنَّي قَذِيعَةً
ولاَand not أَشْتُمُI revile الحَيَّthe tribe الذِيwhose أَنَاI شَاعِرُهْits poet
ولاَ أَشْتُمُ الحَيَّ الذِي أَنَا شَاعِرُهْ
My enemies are not safe from my scathing invective,
Nor do the foes feel safe from me out of fear
and I do not revile the tribe whose poet I am.
Nor do I insult the neighbor who is my praiser
ولاَand not أَطْرُقُI visit by night الجَارَاتِthe neighboring women باللَّيْلِat night قَابِعاًcrouching
ولاَ أَطْرُقُ الجَارَاتِ باللَّيْلِ قَابِعاً
قُبُوعَthe crouching القَرْنْبَىof the qaranbā insect أَخْطَأَتْهُhave eluded it مَحَافِرُهْits burrows
قُبُوعَ القَرْنْبَى أَخْطَأَتْهُ مَحَافِرُهْ
Nor do I visit neighboring women at night, crouching
Nor spend the night waiting crouched to catch
as a qaranbā insect crouches when its burrows elude it.
An ostrich, whose legs its nest has entrapped
إِذَاif كُنْتُI am مَتْبُوعاًthe one followed قَضَيْتُI settle matters وإِنْand if أَكُنْI am
إِذَا كُنْتُ مَتْبُوعاً قَضَيْتُ وإِنْ أَكُنْ
أَنَاI التَّابِعَthe follower المَوْلَىthe patron فَإِنِّيthen I مُيَاسِرُهْaccommodating toward him
أَنَا التَّابِعَ المَوْلَى فَإِنِّي مُيَاسِرُهْ
If I am followed, I settle matters; and if I am
When I am pursued I am content, and if I
the follower of a patron, I am accommodating toward him.
Am the pursuer, a devoted follower, still I treat him fairly
أُؤَدِّيI render what is due إِلَيْهِto him غَيْرَnot مُعْطٍyielding to ظُلاَمَةًinjustice
أُؤَدِّي إِلَيْهِ غَيْرَ مُعْطٍ ظُلاَمَةً
وأَحْدُوand I drive onward إِلَيْهِto him حَقَّهُhis due لاَnot أُغَادِرُهْI leave it behind
وأَحْدُو إِلَيْهِ حَقَّهُ لاَ أُغَادِرُهْ
I render him his due without yielding to injustice,
I do not cheat him of darkness and run to him
and convey his rightful share to him, leaving none behind.
His due right not forsaking
ومَاءًٍand many a waterhole تَبَدَّىwithdrew into the desert أَهْلُهُits people مِنْout of مَخَافَةٍfear
ومَاءًٍ تَبَدَّى أَهْلُهُ مِنْ مَخَافَةٍ
فِرَاخُthe nestlings الحَمَامِof doves الوُرْقِthe gray فيin الصَّيْفِsummer حَاضِرُهْits dwellers
فِرَاخُ الحَمَامِ الوُرْقِ في الصَّيْفِ حَاضِرُهْ
And many a waterhole whose people withdrew into the desert in fear,
And water which, for fear, its owners have abandoned
whose summer dwellers were the nestlings of gray doves,
While the young pigeons in summer remain near their nests
وَرَدْتُI reached the water بِعِيسٍwith white camels قَدْalready طَلَحْنَthey had grown weary وفِتْيةٍand young men
وَرَدْتُ بِعِيسٍ قَدْ طَلَحْنَ وفِتْيةٍ
إِذَاwhen حَرَّكَset sounding النَّاقوسَthe bell بِالليْلِat night زَاجِرُهْits ringer
إِذَا حَرَّكَ النَّاقوسَ بِالليْلِ زَاجِرُهْ
I reached with white camels already weary, and young men,
And I return with a Jesus who has submitted and youths
when the bell's ringer set it sounding in the night.
When the church bells in the night sound their warning
قَطَعْنَاwe cut out لَهُنَّfor them الحَوْضَthe trough فَابْتَلَّso became wet شَطْرُهُhalf of it
قَطَعْنَا لَهُنَّ الحَوْضَ فَابْتَلَّ شَطْرُهُ
لِشُرْبٍfor a drink غِشَاشٍscant and hurried وهْوَwhile it was ظَمْآنُthirsty سَائِرُهْthe rest of it
لِشُرْبٍ غِشَاشٍ وهْوَ ظَمْآنُ سَائِرُهْ
We cut out a trough for them; half of it grew wet
We cut off for them the cistern, so its half
for a scant, hurried drink, while the rest of it stayed thirsty.
Was for the drinking of a cheating drunkard, and the rest for his camels
وهُنَّand they سِمَامٌlean, swift camels وَاضِعٌlaying down حَكَمَاتِهِits bridle-straps
وهُنَّ سِمَامٌ وَاضِعٌ حَكَمَاتِهِ
مُخَوِّيَةٌspread wide أعْجَازُهُits hindquarters وكَرَاكِرُهْand its chest-pads
مُخَوِّيَةٌ أعْجَازُهُ وكَرَاكِرُهْ
They were lean, swift camels, their bridle-straps laid down,
They are muscular, placing their wisdom
their hindquarters and chest-pads spread wide.
Deceitful, with humps on their backs and necks
وظِلٍّand a shade كَظِلِّlike the shade المَضْرَحِيِّof the broad-winged eagle رَفَعْتُهُI raised it
وظِلٍّ كَظِلِّ المَضْرَحِيِّ رَفَعْتُهُ
يَطيرُflies إِذَاwhen هَنَّتْmurmured لهُto it الرِّيحُthe wind طَائرُهْits fluttering flap
يَطيرُ إِذَا هَنَّتْ لهُ الرِّيحُ طَائرُهْ
And I raised a shade like the shade of a broad-winged eagle,
And a shadow like the conjurer’s shadow I set up
its loose flap flying whenever the wind murmured to it,
It flies when the wind makes its bird flutter
لِبيضِfor the bright الوُجُوهِof face أَدْلَجُواthey traveled by night كُلَّall لَيْلِهِمْtheir night
لِبيضِ الوُجُوهِ أَدْلَجُوا كُلَّ لَيْلِهِمْ
ويَوْمِهِمْand their day حَتَّىuntil اسْتَرَقَّتْgrew thin ظَهَائِرُهْits noontide hours
ويَوْمِهِمْ حَتَّى اسْتَرَقَّتْ ظَهَائِرُهْ
for bright-faced men who had journeyed all their night
For the white faces, all their night
and their day, until its noontide heat dwindled.
And their day they darkened, until their temples turned black
فَأَضْحَوْاso they became by day نَشَاوَىas though intoxicated بهالْفَلاَthere in the wilderness بَيْنَamong أَرْحُلٍcamel-saddles
فَأَضْحَوْا نَشَاوَى بهالْفَلاَ بَيْنَ أَرْحُلٍ
وأَقْوَاسِand bows نَبْعٍof nabʿ wood هُزَّwere shaken عَنَّاaway from us شَوَاجِرُهْits tangled branches
وأَقْوَاسِ نَبْعٍ هُزَّ عَنَّا شَوَاجِرُهْ
They became as though drunk there in the wilderness, among saddles
And so they became, with antimony, not distinguished between saddlebags
and bows of nabʿ wood, whose tangled branches were shaken clear of us.
And the arch of a spring whose branches the wind had shaken from us
أَخَذْنَاwe took قَلِيلاًa little مِنْof كَرَانَاour sleep فَوَقَعَتْthen they fell
أَخَذْنَا قَلِيلاً مِنْ كَرَانَا فَوَقَعَتْ
عَلَىupon مَبْرَكٍa kneeling-ground شَأْسٍrugged غَلِيظٍrough حَزَاوِرُهْits hillocks
عَلَى مَبْرَكٍ شَأْسٍ غَلِيظٍ حَزَاوِرُهْ
We snatched a little of our sleep, and they sank down
We took a little of our spirits and there fell
upon a harsh kneeling-ground whose hillocks were rugged—
Upon a blessed, unlucky camel girths -- its saddle ropes coarse
رُقَاداًa sleep بِهِwith it العَجْلاَنُthe hurried man ذُوhaving الهَمِّcare قَانِعٌcontent
رُقَاداً بِهِ العَجْلاَنُ ذُو الهَمِّ قَانِعٌ
ومَنْand whoever كَانَwas لاnot يَسْرِيjourneys by night بِهِwith him الهمُّcare حَاقِرُهْdisdains it
ومَنْ كَانَ لا يَسْرِي بِهِ الهمُّ حَاقِرُهْ
sleep with which a hurried, care-laden man is content,
Slumbering by it the swift camel, content with anxiety
while one whose cares do not drive him by night disdains it.
While one not overtaken by anxiety scorns it
فَأَصْبَحَso by morning became بِالمَوْمَاةِin the barren waste رُصْعاًin small scraps سَرِيحُهَاits loose leather strips
فَأَصْبَحَ بِالمَوْمَاةِ رُصْعاً سَرِيحُهَا
فَلِلإِنْسِso for humankind بَاقيهِwhat remains of it ولِلْجِنِّand for the jinn نَادِرُهْwhat falls away from it
فَلِلإِنْسِ بَاقيهِ ولِلْجِنِّ نَادِرُهْ
So by morning its loose leather strips lay in scraps in the barren waste;
And so in the morning it lay there, its trappings stripped
what remained of it was for humankind, and what fell away for jinn.
What remains is for man, and its rare part for the jinn
Sol 6.1