سَتَرتُI concealed بَياضَthe whiteness of شَيبيmy gray hair بِالخِضابِwith dye
سَتَرتُ بَياضَ شَيبي بِالخِضابِ
وَلَمand did not أَجنَحI incline بِذاكَby that إِلىtoward التَصابيfeigning youth
وَلَم أَجنَح بِذاكَ إِلى التَصابي
I hid the whiteness of my gray hair with dye,
nor did I mean by this to feign youth.
وَلَكِنّيbut I لَبِستُI wore بِهِwith it حِداداًmourning attire
وَلَكِنّي لَبِستُ بِهِ حِداداً
وَذَلِكَand that إِذbecause حَزِنتُI grieved عَلىfor شَبابيmy youth
وَذَلِكَ إِذ حَزِنتُ عَلى شَبابي
But I wore it as mourning black,
and did so because I grieved for my youth.
هُوَit المَحبوبُthe beloved وَدَّعنيbade me farewell بِرَغميagainst my will
هُوَ المَحبوبُ وَدَّعني بِرَغمي
وَغابَand departed فَلَستُso I am not أَطمَعُI hope فيfor الإِيابِreturn
وَغابَ فَلَستُ أَطمَعُ في الإِيابِ
It is the beloved that bade me farewell against my will,
and vanished; I have no hope of its return.
عَلىupon شَرخِthe prime of الشَّبابِyouth أَلَحَّpressed relentlessly شَيبيmy gray hair
عَلى شَرخِ الشَّبابِ أَلَحَّ شَيبي
بِنابٍwith a fang لَيسَis not عَنfrom فَتكٍslaughter بِنابيat all recoiling
بِنابٍ لَيسَ عَن فَتكٍ بِنابي
My gray hair pressed upon the prime of youth
with a fang that never shrinks from slaughter.
نُزولُthe coming of الشَيبِgray hair رَحَّلَsaddled عَنسَthe she-camel of عَيشيmy life
نُزولُ الشَيبِ رَحَّلَ عَنسَ عَيشي
فَسارَso it departed مُوَدِّعاًbidding farewell to وَصلَunion with الكِعابِfull-breasted maidens
فَسارَ مُوَدِّعاً وَصلَ الكِعابِ
The coming of gray hair saddled the she-camel of my life,
and it departed, bidding farewell to union with full-breasted maidens.
وَلِلشَّعَراتِand for the hairs لَمّاwhen لُحنَthey appeared بيضاًwhite
وَلِلشَّعَراتِ لَمّا لُحنَ بيضاً
بِقَلبيin my heart مِثلُthe like of وَخزاتِthrusts الحِرابِspears
بِقَلبي مِثلُ وَخزاتِ الحِرابِ
And the hairs, when they appeared white,
were like spear-thrusts in my heart.
مَضىpassed زَمَنُthe time of الصِّبىyouth فَاِعتَضتso I took in exchange عَنهُin its place
مَضى زَمَنُ الصِّبى فَاِعتَضت عَنهُ
بِطولِwith long-lasting أَسىsorrow عَلَيهِover it وَاِكتِئابِand dejection
بِطولِ أَسى عَلَيهِ وَاِكتِئابِ
The time of youth passed; in its place I received
enduring sorrow over it, and dejection.
أَلاah ياO حَبَّذاhow lovely زَمَنٌa time تَقَضَّىpassed away
أَلا يا حَبَّذا زَمَنٌ تَقَضَّى
حَميداًpraiseworthy بَينَbetween زَينَبَZaynab وَالرَبابِand al-Rabab
حَميداً بَينَ زَينَبَ وَالرَبابِ
Ah, how lovely was the time now past,
so worthy of praise, between Zaynab and al-Rabab!
هُنالِكَthere كانَwas غُصنُthe bough of العَيشِlife غَضّاًtender
هُنالِكَ كانَ غُصنُ العَيشِ غَضّاً
وَريقاًleafy يانِعاًripe دانيwithin reach الرِّطابِfresh dates
وَريقاً يانِعاً داني الرِّطابِ
There, the bough of life was tender,
leafy and flourishing, its fresh dates within reach.
وَلَمand did not يَنعَقcroak بِفُرقَتِناof our parting غُرابٌa raven
وَلَم يَنعَق بِفُرقَتِنا غُرابٌ
وَلَونُand the color of الشَّعرِthe hair أَسوَدُblack كَالغُرابِlike a raven
وَلَونُ الشَّعرِ أَسوَدُ كَالغُرابِ
And no raven croaked of our parting,
and the hair was black as a raven.
وَرَّقَتput forth leaves بَينَناbetween us الشَكوىcomplaint فَكانَتso it was
وَرَّقَت بَينَنا الشَكوى فَكانَت
كَرِقَّةِlike the delicacy of دَمعtears راووقِa strainer for الشَّرابِwine
كَرِقَّةِ دَمع راووقِ الشَّرابِ
Complaint leafed out between us, and was
as delicate as the tears of a wine strainer.
فَقَدfor indeed نَشَرَunfolded المَشيبُgray hair كِتابَthe book of صَدِّrejection by الthe
فَقَد نَشَرَ المَشيبُ كِتابَ صَدِّ ال
أَحِبَّةِbeloved ones وَانطَوَتand were folded away صُحُفُpages العِتابِreproach
أَحِبَّةِ وَانطَوَت صُحُفُ العِتابِ
For gray hair has unfolded the book of rejection by the
beloved ones, and the pages of reproach have been folded away.
بَياضَwhiteness of الشَيبِgray hair قَدindeed سَوَّدتyou blackened وَجهيmy face
بَياضَ الشَيبِ قَد سَوَّدت وَجهي
فَفيso in تَسويدِblackening وَجهِكَyour face ماnot أحابيI show favoritism
فَفي تَسويدِ وَجهِكَ ما أحابي
O whiteness of gray hair, you have blackened my face;
so I show no favor in blackening your face.
أَماis it not أَنتَyou الَّذيthe one who صَيَّرتنيyou made me بَهworth- (split word)
أَما أَنتَ الَّذي صَيَّرتني بَه
رَجاً-less (split word) عِندَin the eyes of الحَرائِرِfreeborn women وَالقِحابِand whores
رَجاً عِندَ الحَرائِرِ وَالقِحابِ
Are you not the one who made me worth-
less in the eyes of freeborn women and whores?
عَلىfor تَسويدِblackening وَجهِكَyour face لَستُI am not ألحىblamed
عَلى تَسويدِ وَجهِكَ لَستُ ألحى
وَلَوand even if سَوَّدتُهُI blackened it بِخَراwith the shit of الكلابِdogs
وَلَو سَوَّدتُهُ بِخَرا الكلابِ
I am not to be blamed for blackening your face,
even if I blackened it with dog shit.
أَلاah ياO صاحِfriend إِنّيindeed I غَيرُnot صاحٍsober
أَلا يا صاحِ إِنّي غَيرُ صاحٍ
سَكِرتُI became drunk مِنَfrom المَشيبِgray hair بِلاwithout شَرابِwine
سَكِرتُ مِنَ المَشيبِ بِلا شَرابِ
Ah, friend, I am not sober:
I grew drunk on gray hair, without wine.
فَسُكريso my drunkenness مِنfrom مَشيبٍgray hair حَلَّsettled عِنديwith me
فَسُكري مِن مَشيبٍ حَلَّ عِندي
مَحَلَّin the place of البومِthe owl يَنأَمُhoots فيin الخَرابِruins
مَحَلَّ البومِ يَنأَمُ في الخَرابِ
For my drunkenness comes from gray hair that settled with me,
like an owl hooting among ruins.
كِتابُthe book of الشَيبِgray hair أَبيَضُwhite فيon سَوادٍblackness
كِتابُ الشَيبِ أَبيَضُ في سَوادٍ
وَهَذاand this ضِدُّthe opposite of مَعهودِthe customary way of الكِتابِwriting
وَهَذا ضِدُّ مَعهودِ الكِتابِ
The book of gray hair is white on black,
and this is the reverse of customary writing.
أَراهُI see it قِصَّةa petition رُفِعَتwas submitted إِلىto مَنone who
أَراهُ قِصَّة رُفِعَت إِلى مَن
يُوَقِّعُsigns a decree فيin جَوابِيَmy reply بِالجَوىwith anguish بيupon me
يُوَقِّعُ في جَوابِيَ بِالجَوى بي
I see it as a petition submitted to one
who, in answering me, signs a decree of anguish for me.
مَتىwhenever ماever (emphasis) سَلَّdraws سَيفَthe sword of الشَينِdisfigurement شَيبيmy gray hair
مَتى ما سَلَّ سَيفَ الشَينِ شَيبي
أَعِدهُI return it بِالخِضابِwith dye إِلىto القِرابِthe sheath
أَعِدهُ بِالخِضابِ إِلى القِرابِ
Whenever my gray hair draws the sword of disfigurement,
I return it to its sheath with dye.
وَلَكِنbut كَيفَhow أَصنَعُI act حينَwhen يَأتيit comes
وَلَكِن كَيفَ أَصنَعُ حينَ يَأتي
بِسِحرٍwith magic زاخِرٍsurging جَمِّabundant العُبابِthe flood
بِسِحرٍ زاخِرٍ جَمِّ العُبابِ
But what can I do when it comes
with surging magic, its flood immense?
مَصابيحُthe lamps of المَشيبِgray hair هَوَتfell بِلَيلٍby night
مَصابيحُ المَشيبِ هَوَت بِلَيلٍ
فَعاثَتso they wreaked havoc فيamong شَياطينِthe devils of الشَّبابِyouth
فَعاثَت في شَياطينِ الشَّبابِ
The lamps of gray hair fell by night,
and wreaked havoc among the devils of youth.
فَقَدfor indeed صَدَّتturned away شُموسُthe suns of الغيدِslender maidens عَنيfrom me
فَقَد صَدَّت شُموسُ الغيدِ عَني
صُدودَthe turning away of الشَّمسِthe sun عَنfrom حالِthe condition of الشّهابِa shooting star
صُدودَ الشَّمسِ عَن حالِ الشّهابِ
For the suns of slender maidens have turned away from me,
as the sun turns away from a shooting star's plight.