كَفاكَit suffices you أَنّيthat I قَدindeed بِتُّI spent the night لَمdid not أَنَمِI sleep
كَفاكَ أَنّي قَد بِتُّ لَم أَنَمِ
وَأَنَّand that قَلبيmy heart مُستَودَعُa storehouse of السَقَمِsickness
وَأَنَّ قَلبي مُستَودَعُ السَقَمِ
It is enough for you that I spent the night sleepless,
Enough that I have spent the night sleepless,
Let it suffice you that I spent the night awake,
and that my heart is a storehouse of sickness.
And that my heart harbors only sickness.
And that my heart has become a vessel for pain.
أَولىmore deserving بِحَملِof bearing المَلامِblame عاذِلُthe reprover of مَنone who
أَولى بِحَملِ المَلامِ عاذِلُ مَن
يَسأَلُasks رَسماًa ruined trace إِجابَةَan answer الكَلِمِwords
يَسأَلُ رَسماً إِجابَةَ الكَلِمِ
More deserving of blame is the reprover of one
More deserving of blame is he who asks
More deserving of blame is he who scolds the one
who asks a ruined trace to answer in words.
For a picture, replicating speech.
Who begs the silent ruins to answer with a word.
رَسمُa trace of دِيارٍdwellings يَفتَرُّgrins مُبتَسِماًsmiling
رَسمُ دِيارٍ يَفتَرُّ مُبتَسِماً
مِنهاfrom them البِلىdecay عَنbaring نَواجِذِthe molars of الهَرِمِold age
مِنها البِلى عَن نَواجِذِ الهَرِمِ
A trace of dwellings: grinning and smiling,
The image of dwellings brings a smile,
The traces of a home that faintly smile,
decay there bares the molars of old age.
Though ruined by the ravages of time.
As decay reveals the bared teeth of old age.
أَبقىleft البِلىdecay مِنfrom جَديدِهِنَّtheir former freshness كَماjust as
أَبقى البِلى مِن جَديدِهِنَّ كَما
أَبقىit left مِنَfrom الجِسمِthe body مُقلَتَيthe two eyes of حَكَمِHakam
أَبقى مِنَ الجِسمِ مُقلَتَي حَكَمِ
Decay left remnants of their former freshness, as
More lasting than their bricks is what remains
Decay has left as little of their former youth
it left, from the body, the two eyes of Hakam.
Of a body, two orbits of wisdom.
As it left of the body but the eyes of Hakam.
قَدِalready اِكتَسىhas clothed itself العودُthe tree فيin الثَرىthe soil خِلَعاًrobes of honor
قَدِ اِكتَسى العودُ في الثَرى خِلَعاً
مِنof يانِعِblooming الزَهرِflowers وَالنَدىand the dew الشَبِمِchilly
مِن يانِعِ الزَهرِ وَالنَدى الشَبِمِ
The tree in the soil has donned robes
The lute now dons the earth's dustgarb
The branch within the earth has robed itself
of blooming flowers and chilly dew.
Bereft of blossoms, fresh dew and youth.
In mantles of ripe blossoms and cold dew.
يَحياrevives بِروحِthrough the spirit of الكُرومِthe grapevines ليof mine جَسَدٌa body
يَحيا بِروحِ الكُرومِ لي جَسَدٌ
أَخنَتravaged عَلَيهِupon it نَوازِعُthe urges of الهِمَمِambitions
أَخنَت عَلَيهِ نَوازِعُ الهِمَمِ
My body revives through the spirit of the vines—
Yet in me still lives, with the soul of vines,
My body is revived by the spirit of the vine,
ravaged by the urges of ambition—
A body weathered by the winds of cares.
A body worn down by the striving of high aims.
مِنَfrom اللَواتيthose which حَكىmirrored الحَبابُthe bubbles بِهاin them
مِنَ اللَواتي حَكى الحَبابُ بِها
وَجهَthe face of حَبيبٍa beloved إِلَيَّtoward me مُبتَسِمِsmiling
وَجهَ حَبيبٍ إِلَيَّ مُبتَسِمِ
from those wines whose bubbles mirror
Of those whose cheeks were recalled by dancers,
From a vintage whose bubbles resemble
the face of a beloved smiling at me.
A lover's face still smiles at me.
The face of a beloved smiling back at me.
أَظَلَّI remain مِنهاfrom it عَلىon شَفاthe brink of خَدَرٍnumbness
أَظَلَّ مِنها عَلى شَفا خَدَرٍ
يَأخُذُseizes مِنfrom مَفرِقيthe crown of my head إِلىto القَدَمِthe foot
يَأخُذُ مِن مَفرِقي إِلى القَدَمِ
From it, I remain on the verge of numbness
It cast its shade on one numbed cheek
From it, I linger on the brink of numbness,
that seizes me from my crown to my feet.
Taking me from my parting to my feet.
A sensation seizing me from crown to sole.
لَمnot يُنقِصِdiminished الشَيبُgray hair مِنfrom دَعارَتِهاits wantonness
لَم يُنقِصِ الشَيبُ مِن دَعارَتِها
وَلاnor وَهىgrew weak عَظمُهاits bones مِنَfrom القِدَمِage
وَلا وَهى عَظمُها مِنَ القِدَمِ
Gray hair has not diminished its wantonness,
Grey hairs could not diminish its grace,
Age has not diminished its wicked charm,
nor have its bones grown weak with age.
Nor, bent, its stature shorten over time.
Nor has its structure weakened from antiquity.
تَفعَلُdoes فيin الصَدرِthe breast بِالهُمومِto worries كَماas
تَفعَلُ في الصَدرِ بِالهُمومِ كَما
يَفعَلُdoes ضَوءُthe light of النَهارِday بِالظُلَمِto darkness
يَفعَلُ ضَوءُ النَهارِ بِالظُلَمِ
It does to worries in the breast what
In breasts it does as daylight does to darkness,
It acts upon the worries in the breast,
the light of day does to darkness.
Should we restrain it, clouds rise for its sake.
Just as the light of day dispels the dark.
إِذاwhen اِمتَرَتهاmilked it أَكُفُّناour palms نَشَأَتarose
إِذا اِمتَرَتها أَكُفُّنا نَشَأَت
لَهاfor it سَحابٌclouds تَستَنُّrace along بِالرِهَمِwith fine rain
لَها سَحابٌ تَستَنُّ بِالرِهَمِ
When our palms milk it, there arise
The hand of Solomon brought bounty raining down,
When our palms press it forth, there rises
clouds for it, racing with fine rain.
At times unleashing vengeance and wrath.
A cloud from it that pours a gentle rain.
كَفُّthe palm of سُلَيمانَSulayman أَمطَرَتrained نِعَماًblessings
كَفُّ سُلَيمانَ أَمطَرَت نِعَماً
وَتارَةًand at times تَستَهِلُّpours forth بِالنِقَمِwith punishments
وَتارَةً تَستَهِلُّ بِالنِقَمِ
Sulayman's palm has rained blessings,
O cream of drinking and scion of cream!
Like Suleiman's hand, which rains down blessings,
and at times it pours down punishments.
Gabriel who dispels the gloom of anguish!
Yet at times pours forth a torrent of retribution.
ياO غُرَّةَpride of الشَربِthe drinkers وَاِبنَand son of غُرَّتِهِمtheir pride
يا غُرَّةَ الشَربِ وَاِبنَ غُرَّتِهِم
جِبريلُJibril مُرديslayer of كَتائِبَbattalions of البُهَمِformidable warriors
جِبريلُ مُردي كَتائِبَ البُهَمِ
O pride of the drinkers, and son of their pride,
My tongue is still describing your perfection,
O finest of the noble assembly, and son of their finest,
Jibril, who fells battalions of formidable warriors!
O son of the hunt, though my powers fail me,
Gabriel, destroyer of the battalions of brave knights.
كَلَّfell short لِسانيmy tongue عَنof وَصفِexpressing مَدحِكَyour praise ياO اِبson (first part)
كَلَّ لِساني عَن وَصفِ مَدحِكَ يا اِب
نَson (remaining part) الصيدِnoble chiefs وَاِستُضعِفَتand were found weak قِوىthe powers of هِمَميmy resolves
نَ الصيدِ وَاِستُضعِفَت قِوى هِمَمي
My tongue has failed to express your praise, O son
And though I offer nothing but excuses,
My tongue grows weary describing your praise, O son
of noble chiefs; and the powers of my resolve have proved feeble.
Were I to speak, before all other tongues.
Of the proud kings, and my ambition's strength fails me.
وَلَستُand I am not إِلّاexcept مُعذِراًdoing my utmost وَلَوِand even if اِسI elicited speech (first part)
وَلَستُ إِلّا مُعذِراً وَلَوِ اِس
تَنطَقتُI elicited speech (remaining part) فيهِconcerning it عَنfrom أَلسُنِthe tongues of الأُمَمِnations
تَنطَقتُ فيهِ عَن أَلسُنِ الأُمَمِ
And I am only doing my utmost, even were I to draw
I offer but an excuse, even were I to speak
words of praise from the tongues of nations.
With the tongues of all nations in your honor.
Partial English translation: 28 of 30 Arabic lines translated.