طلبتُ من ريشتي أنْ ترسم القمر

طلبتُ من ريشتي أنْ ترسم القمر

فأبدعتْ وقضتْ من حاجتي وَطَرا

فأبدعتْ وقضتْ من حاجتي وَطَرا

I asked my brush to paint the moon.

I asked my pen to draw the moon

So it excelled and fulfilled a desire of mine.

It created beautifully and fulfilled my need

طمعتُ فيها، فقلت: النَّجمُ يُعجبني

طمعتُ فيها، فقلت: النَّجمُ يُعجبني

فصوَّرتْ ريشتي من حُسْنِه صُوَرا

فصوَّرتْ ريشتي من حُسْنِه صُوَرا

I hoped for more from it, and said: The star delights me.

I became greedy with it, so I said: I like the star

So my brush painted images of its beauty.

So my pen pictured its beauty in images

فزاد مما أرى في ريشتي طمعي

فزاد مما أرى في ريشتي طمعي

والمرءُ يَطْمَعُ فيما حُسْنُه ظَهَرا

والمرءُ يَطْمَعُ فيما حُسْنُه ظَهَرا

What I saw in my brush increased my desire for more.

What I see in my pen increased my greed

And one longs for whatever reveals its beauty.

And man is greedy for what is good in appearance

فقلت: هيَّا ارسمي روضاً ورابيةً

فقلت: هيَّا ارسمي روضاً ورابيةً

خضراءَ تُعْجبُ في تنسيقها النَّظَرا

خضراءَ تُعْجبُ في تنسيقها النَّظَرا

So I said: Come, paint a garden and a hill,

So I said: Come on, draw me a garden and cottages

Green, delighting the eye with its arrangement.

Green, pleasing in its arrangement to the sight

وأبدعي صورةً للنَّخل باسقةً

وأبدعي صورةً للنَّخل باسقةً

وصوِّري النَّبْعَ والأزهارَ والشَّجرا

وصوِّري النَّبْعَ والأزهارَ والشَّجرا

And create a picture of towering palms,

And create an image of the towering palm trees

And paint the spring, the flowers, and the trees.

And picture the spring, the flowers and the trees

وصوِّري سُحُباً في الجوِّ سابحةً

وصوِّري سُحُباً في الجوِّ سابحةً

وصوِّري البرقَ فيها وارسمي المَطَرا

وصوِّري البرقَ فيها وارسمي المَطَرا

And paint clouds swimming through the air,

And picture clouds floating in the sky

And paint the lightning within them, and paint the rain.

And draw the lightning in them and paint the rain

فأبدعتْ ريشتي في كلِّ ما رسَمَتْ

فأبدعتْ ريشتي في كلِّ ما رسَمَتْ

حتى رأيت لها في خاطري أَثَرا

حتى رأيت لها في خاطري أَثَرا

So my brush excelled in everything it painted,

So my pen created beautifully all that it drew

Until I saw its imprint upon my mind.

Until I saw its impact on my mind

طَمِعْتُ في ريشتي، قلت: ارسمي حُلُم

طَمِعْتُ في ريشتي، قلت: ارسمي حُلُم

فصوَّرتْ صورةً، عقلي بها انبهَرا

فصوَّرتْ صورةً، عقلي بها انبهَرا

I hoped for more from my brush; I said: Paint a dream.

I became greedy with my pen, I said: Draw dreams

So it painted a picture that dazzled my mind.

So it pictured an image, my mind was dazzled

قلت: ارسمي وَمْضَةَ الإحساس فانطلقتْ

قلت: ارسمي وَمْضَةَ الإحساس فانطلقتْ

تصوِّر البَرْقَ لمَّا يَخْطَفُ البَصَرا

تصوِّر البَرْقَ لمَّا يَخْطَفُ البَصَرا

I said: Paint a flash of feeling, and it set off

I said: Draw the flash of feeling, so it burst forth

Painting lightning as it snatches sight away.

To portray lightning when it seizes sight

قلتُ: ارسمي لَوْعَةَ المشتاق، لَهْفَتَهُ

قلتُ: ارسمي لَوْعَةَ المشتاق، لَهْفَتَهُ

حنينَهُ، دَمْعَهُ الرَّقْراقَ حين جَرَى

حنينَهُ، دَمْعَهُ الرَّقْراقَ حين جَرَى

I said: Paint the yearning lover's anguish, his eagerness,

I said: Draw the agony of the longing one, his fervor

His longing, his shimmering tears as they flowed.

His nostalgia, his flowing tender teardrops

وصوِّري ليلَه ما زالَ يُرْهِقُه

وصوِّري ليلَه ما زالَ يُرْهِقُه

طولاً، وَيُسْكِنُ في أهدابه السَّهَرا

طولاً، وَيُسْكِنُ في أهدابه السَّهَرا

And paint his night, which still exhausts him

And portray his night that continued to afflict him

With its length, and lodges sleeplessness in his eyelashes.

With its length, and inhabited his eyelids with vigilance

وصوِّري فَرَحَ المشتاقِ حين يَرَى

وصوِّري فَرَحَ المشتاقِ حين يَرَى

وجهَ الحبيبِ وينسى الهمَّ والكَدَرا

وجهَ الحبيبِ وينسى الهمَّ والكَدَرا

And paint the yearning lover's joy when he sees

And portray the longing one’s joy when he sees

The beloved's face and forgets worry and sorrow.

The face of the beloved and forgets the worries and distress

ولم تَزَلْ ريشتي في كلِّ ما رسمَتْ

ولم تَزَلْ ريشتي في كلِّ ما رسمَتْ

تُبدي لعينيْ من الإبداعِ ما استترا

تُبدي لعينيْ من الإبداعِ ما استترا

And my brush, in everything it painted, never ceased

And my pen continued in all that it drew

Revealing to my eyes what lay hidden in creativity.

To show my eyes the creativity it concealed

وزادَ من طمعي فيها تَأَلُّقُه

وزادَ من طمعي فيها تَأَلُّقُه

فَرُحْتُ أطلبُ بالإسهابِ ما اختُصِرا

فَرُحْتُ أطلبُ بالإسهابِ ما اختُصِرا

And its brilliance increased my desire for more from it,

And its brilliance increased my greed in it

So I began asking at length for what had been condensed.

So I rejoiced, seeking elaborately what was concise

يا ريشتي، أنتِ في الإبداعِ رائدةٌ

يا ريشتي، أنتِ في الإبداعِ رائدةٌ

كبَّرْتِ من لَمحَاتِ الفَنِّ ما صَغُرا

كبَّرْتِ من لَمحَاتِ الفَنِّ ما صَغُرا

O my brush, you are a pioneer in creativity;

My pen, you are leading in creativity

You magnified what was small among the glimpses of art.

You have made great what is small in the glimpses of art

هيَّا ارسمي وَجْهَ مَنْ أهوى وبسمتَه

هيَّا ارسمي وَجْهَ مَنْ أهوى وبسمتَه

وناظرَيْنِ، إذا ما صُوِّبا سَحَرا

وناظرَيْنِ، إذا ما صُوِّبا سَحَرا

Come, paint the face of the one I love, and his smile,

Come on, draw the face of my beloved and her smile

And two eyes that bewitch when their gaze is directed.

And two eyes, if directed, they would spellbind

توقَّفَتْ ريشتي طال الوجومُ به

توقَّفَتْ ريشتي طال الوجومُ به

حتى تخيَّلْتُ رأسَ الرِّيشةِ انكسرا

حتى تخيَّلْتُ رأسَ الرِّيشةِ انكسرا

My brush stopped; its stunned silence lingered,

My pen stopped, gloominess overcame it

Until I imagined the brush's tip had broken.

Until I imagined the pen's head had broken

ماذا دهى ريشتي، ما بالُها وَجَمَتْ

ماذا دهى ريشتي، ما بالُها وَجَمَتْ

ما بالُ إبداعها في رسمها انحسرا؟!

ما بالُ إبداعها في رسمها انحسرا؟!

What has befallen my brush? Why has it fallen silent?

What silenced my pen, why did it frown?

Why has its creativity in painting waned?

Why did its creativity in drawing shrivel?

قالت: أتطلبُ مني رسمَ فاتنةٍ

قالت: أتطلبُ مني رسمَ فاتنةٍ

لو أبصر الفجر عينيها لما انتشرا

لو أبصر الفجر عينيها لما انتشرا

It said: Are you asking me to paint an enchanting woman?

It said: Do you ask me to draw a beauty

Had dawn seen her eyes, it would not have spread.

If the dawn saw her eyes, it would not have spread

ولو رأى الزَّهْرُ في الواحاتِ بَسْمَتَه

ولو رأى الزَّهْرُ في الواحاتِ بَسْمَتَه

لَمَا حَبَانا الشَّذا يوماً ولا ازدهَرا

لَمَا حَبَانا الشَّذا يوماً ولا ازدهَرا

And had the flowers in the oases seen his smile,

And if the flowers in the oases saw her smile

They would never have given us fragrance, nor bloomed.

It would not have perfumed us one day or blossomed

ولو رآها نسيمُ الفجر حاضرةً

ولو رآها نسيمُ الفجر حاضرةً

على ضِفافِ الرَّبيعِ الطَّلْقِ ما حَضَرا

على ضِفافِ الرَّبيعِ الطَّلْقِ ما حَضَرا

And had the dawn breeze seen her present

And if the dawn breeze saw her present

On the banks of cheerful spring, it would not have come.

On the banks of open spring, it would not have attended

هنا، رأيتُ يَدَ الإبداعِ راجفةً

هنا، رأيتُ يَدَ الإبداعِ راجفةً

كأنَّ ريشتَهُ قد أصبحتْ حَجَرا

كأنَّ ريشتَهُ قد أصبحتْ حَجَرا

Here I saw the hand of creativity trembling,

As if its pen had become stone

As though its brush had become stone.

So I said: Glory to Him who created beauty, we will never

فقلتُ: سبحانَ من صاغَ الجمالَ لن

فقلتُ: سبحانَ من صاغَ الجمالَ لن

حتى ظننَّا بأنَّا لا نرى بَشَرا

حتى ظننَّا بأنَّا لا نرى بَشَرا

So I said: Glory be to Him who fashioned beauty—[unfinished: “will not ...”]

Even think we see a human

Until we thought we were not seeing a human being.