وغادَةٍand many a graceful maiden كَمهاةِlike an oryx الرَّملِof the sands آنِسَةٍcompanionable
وغادَةٍ كَمهاةِ الرَّملِ آنِسَةٍ
تَذودُdefends عَنهاon her behalf سَراةُthe nobles الحَيِّof the clan مِنfrom سَبإِSaba
تَذودُ عَنها سَراةُ الحَيِّ مِن سَبإِ
And many a graceful, companionable maiden, like an oryx of the sands,
And a lovely gazelle, companion of the sandy dunes,
Is guarded by the clan's nobles from Saba.
The dwellers of the camp ward her off from Saba'.
إِذاwhen بَدَتْshe appears سارَقَتْهاfurtively eyed her العَينُthe eye نَظرَتَهاits glance
إِذا بَدَتْ سارَقَتْها العَينُ نَظرَتَها
تَلَمُّحَpeering الصَّقرِof the falcon رُعباًin fear فَوقَatop مُرتَبإِa lookout
تَلَمُّحَ الصَّقرِ رُعباً فَوقَ مُرتَبإِ
When she appears, the eye steals a glance at her,
When her eyes steal a glance, she glimpses
Like a falcon peering fearfully atop a lookout.
The falcon in fright, above the hilltop.
قالَتْshe said وَقَدand had أَنكَرَتْdisapproved of وَجهاًa face يُلَوِّحُهُdarkens it
قالَتْ وَقَد أَنكَرَتْ وَجهاً يُلَوِّحُهُ
طَيُّtraversing المَهامِهِthe vast wastes ماwhat لِلسَّيفِwith the sword ذاbearing صَدأِrust
طَيُّ المَهامِهِ ما لِلسَّيفِ ذا صَدأِ
She said, disapproving of a face darkened
She said, as she denied a face he was waving,
By crossing the vast wastes: 'Why is the sword rusty?'
"What can a rusted sword do to me?"
فَقُلتُso I said لاdo not تُنكريهِdisapprove of it إِنَّindeed ليI have شِيَماًqualities
فَقُلتُ لا تُنكريهِ إِنَّ لي شِيَماً
تَرضَينَهاyou approve of them إِنif سأَلتِyou ask الحَيَّthe clan عَنabout نَبئِيnews of me
تَرضَينَها إِن سأَلتِ الحَيَّ عَن نَبئِي
So I said, 'Do not disapprove of it, for I have qualities
I said, "Do not deny him, I have a nature,
You will approve of, if you ask the clan for news of me.
The dwellers of the camp would approve, if asked about my character."
أَرجوI hope وَخَصرُكِand your waist يَهوىis in love لاmay it not رأىsee فَرَجاًrelief
أَرجو وَخَصرُكِ يَهوى لا رأى فَرَجاً
أَنthat يُرويَquenches اللَهُGod ماwhat يَشكوهُcomplains of it مِنof ظَمإِthirst
أَن يُرويَ اللَهُ ما يَشكوهُ مِن ظَمإِ
I hope—your waist is in love; may it find no relief—
I hope, your waist sways, not having seen an opening,
That God will quench the thirst it laments.'
That God may quench, what he complains of thirst.