إِنif تَكُyou are جُلمودَa boulder بَصرٍstone لاnot أُوَيِّسُهُI soften it
إِن تَكُ جُلمودَ بَصرٍ لا أُوَيِّسُهُ
أوقِدI kindle a fire عَلَيهِupon it فَأَحميهِthen I heat it فَيَنصَدِعُthen it splits
أوقِد عَلَيهِ فَأَحميهِ فَيَنصَدِعُ
If you are a boulder of stone that I cannot soften,
If you encounter an obstinate gaze I cannot soften,
I kindle a fire upon it, then heat it, and it splits.
Ignite it, and melt it, so it splits asunder.
السَلمُpeace تَأخُذُyou take مِنهاfrom it ماwhatever رَضيتَyou are satisfied بِهِwith it
السَلمُ تَأخُذُ مِنها ما رَضيتَ بِهِ
وَالحَربُand war يَكفيكَsuffices you مِنfrom أَنفاسِهاits breaths جُرَعُdraughts
وَالحَربُ يَكفيكَ مِن أَنفاسِها جُرَعُ
Peace—you take from it whatever satisfies you;
From peace you take what you are content with,
And war—draughts of its breath suffice you.
While from war, a mere breath is enough for you.