أَفنَيتُI spent عُمريmy life وَتَقَضّىand passed away الشَبابyouth
أَفنَيتُ عُمري وَتَقَضّى الشَباب
بَينَbetween الحُمَيّاstrong wine وَالجَواريand the slave-girls الأَوابthe returning ones
بَينَ الحُمَيّا وَالجَواري الأَواب
I have spent my life, and youth has passed away,
I spent my life, and youth slipped away,
Between strong wine and the returning slave-girls.
Among beautiful maidens in flowing robes.
فَالآنَso now شَفَّعتُI accepted the intercession of إِمامَthe Imam of الهُدىguidance
فَالآنَ شَفَّعتُ إِمامَ الهُدى
وَرُبَّماand often طِبتُI was pleasing لِحُبٍّto a beloved وَطابand was pleasing
وَرُبَّما طِبتُ لِحُبٍّ وَطاب
So now I have accepted the Imam of guidance's intercession,
Now I plead to the Imam of guidance,
And often I pleased a beloved, who pleased me in turn.
And sometimes I am content with love and its joys.
صَحَوتُI sobered up إِلّاexcept أَنَّthat ذِكرَthe memory of الهَوىpassion
صَحَوتُ إِلّا أَنَّ ذِكرَ الهَوى
يَدعوcalls إِلىto الشَوقِlonging فَأَنسىso I forget مَآبreturn
يَدعو إِلى الشَوقِ فَأَنسى مَآب
I have sobered up, except that the memory of passion
I awake except when thoughts of passion
Calls me to longing, so I forget my return.
Call me to longing, so I forget my purpose.
لِلَّهِto God دَرّيmy excellence لاnot أَرىI see عاشِقاًa lover
لِلَّهِ دَرّي لا أَرى عاشِقاً
إِلّاexcept that جَرىflowed دَمعيmy tears وَطالَand grew long اِنتِحابsobbing
إِلّا جَرى دَمعي وَطالَ اِنتِحاب
God bless me! I never see a lover
Woe to me! I see no lover
Without my tears flowing and my sobbing lasting long.
Whose tears don’t flow copiously.
كَأَنَّas though قَلبيmy heart بِبَقاياwith the remnants of الهَوىpassion
كَأَنَّ قَلبي بِبَقايا الهَوى
مُعَلَّقٌhanging بَينَamong خَوافيthe inner flight-feathers of عُقابan eagle
مُعَلَّقٌ بَينَ خَوافي عُقاب
As though my heart, with the remnants of passion,
It's as if my heart, with remnants of desire,
Hangs among an eagle's inner wing-feathers.
Is suspended between fearful punishment.
ياO حَبَّذاhow lovely الكَأسُthe cup وَحورُand the dark-eyed beauties الدُمىthe figurines
يا حَبَّذا الكَأسُ وَحورُ الدُمى
أَزمانَin the days when أَلهوI make merry وَالهَوىand passion لاnot يُعابis blamed
أَزمانَ أَلهو وَالهَوى لا يُعاب
Ah, how lovely the cup and the dark-eyed, statue-like beauties,
O the joy of the wine-cup and fair beauties!
In the days when I made merry and passion was not blamed.
The days of play and love cannot be blamed.
ياO صاحِfriend بَلّانيwore me out طِلابُthe pursuit of الهَوىpassion
يا صاحِ بَلّاني طِلابُ الهَوى
وَصَرفُand unmixed wine إِبريقٍan ewer عَلَيهِupon it النِقابthe veil
وَصَرفُ إِبريقٍ عَلَيهِ النِقاب
O friend, the pursuit of passion wore me out,
O companion, pour me a drink,
And unmixed wine from an ewer with a veil upon it.
As the veiled one pours from the pitcher.
يَوماtwo days of نَعيمٍbliss أَخلَقاthe two wore away جِدَّتيmy youthful freshness
يَوما نَعيمٍ أَخلَقا جِدَّتي
وَلِمَّةًand locks of hair مِثلَlike جَناحِthe wing of الغُرابthe raven
وَلِمَّةً مِثلَ جَناحِ الغُراب
Two days of bliss wore away my youthful freshness,
What blessed days my grandmothers knew,
And my locks, like a raven's wing.
And a faith like the raven's wing!
وَاللَهِby God ماnot لاقَيتُI encountered مِثلَيهِماthe like of those two
وَاللَهِ ما لاقَيتُ مِثلَيهِما
فيin عامِرِthe inhabited part of الأَرضِthe earth وَلاnor فيin الخَرابthe wasteland
في عامِرِ الأَرضِ وَلا في الخَراب
By God, I have never encountered the like of those two,
By God, in flourishing lands or in ruins,
In the inhabited earth, nor in its wastelands.
I’ve not found their like.
لَهفيmy regret عَلىfor يَوميmy day بِذيat Dhu باسِمٍBasim
لَهفي عَلى يَومي بِذي باسِمٍ
وَمَجلِسٍand a gathering-place بَينَbetween خَليجٍa canal وَغابand a thicket
وَمَجلِسٍ بَينَ خَليجٍ وَغاب
Alas for my day at Dhu Basim,
I yearn for the day at Bāsim’s abode,
And a gathering-place between a canal and a thicket.
And a gathering between gulf and wood.
ياO مَجلِساًgathering-place أَكرِمhow splendid بِهِit is مَجلِساًas a gathering-place
يا مَجلِساً أَكرِم بِهِ مَجلِساً
حُفَّwas surrounded بِرَيحانٍwith basil وَعَيشٍand a life of pleasure عُجابwonderful
حُفَّ بِرَيحانٍ وَعَيشٍ عُجاب
O gathering-place—how splendid a gathering-place!
O blessed gathering! A gathering to honour,
Surrounded by basil and wondrous pleasure.
Surrounded by basil and wondrous fare.
بِتُّI spent the night بِهِin it أُسقىI was served drink رُهاوِيَّةًRuhawi wine
بِتُّ بِهِ أُسقى رُهاوِيَّةً
لَعيبَplayful سِتٍّsix years old خُلِقَتit was created لِلِّعابfor play
لَعيبَ سِتٍّ خُلِقَت لِلِّعاب
I spent the night there, being served Ruhawi wine,
I spent the night intoxicated by a coquettish,
A playful six-year-old, created for play.
Playful beauty created for teasing.
ثُمَّthen غَدَوناwe set out at dawn وَغَداand it became ذاهِباًgone
ثُمَّ غَدَونا وَغَدا ذاهِباً
وَكُلُّand every عَيشٍlife مُؤذِنٌannouncing بِالذَهابdeparture
وَكُلُّ عَيشٍ مُؤذِنٌ بِالذَهاب
Then we set out at dawn, and it passed away,
Then we left at dawn, going our ways,
And every life gives notice of departure.
For all life tells of departure.
لَهَوتُI made merry حَتّىuntil راعَنيstartled me غادِياًgoing out at dawn
لَهَوتُ حَتّى راعَني غادِياً
صَوتُthe voice of أَميرِthe Commander of المُؤمِنينَthe Faithful المُجابwhose summons is heeded
صَوتُ أَميرِ المُؤمِنينَ المُجاب
I made merry until, setting out at dawn, I was startled
I sported until I heard passing by
By the voice of the Commander of the Faithful, whose summons is heeded.
The voice of the Commander of the Faithful.
لَبَّيكَat your service لَبَّيكَat your service هَجَرتُI forsook الصِباyouthful desire
لَبَّيكَ لَبَّيكَ هَجَرتُ الصِبا
وَنامَand fell asleep عُذّاليmy reproachers وَماتَand died العِتابreproach
وَنامَ عُذّالي وَماتَ العِتاب
At your service! At your service! I have forsaken youthful desire.
“At your service! At your service!” I left behind youth
And my reproachers have fallen asleep, and reproach has died.
And my reproaches fell silent and died.
لاnot ناكِثاًbreaking عَهداًa pledge وَلاnor طالِباًseeking
لا ناكِثاً عَهداً وَلا طالِباً
سُخطَكَyour anger ماas long as غَنّىsing الحَمامُthe doves الطِرابjoyous
سُخطَكَ ما غَنّى الحَمامُ الطِراب
Neither breaking a pledge nor seeking
Neither violating a pact nor seeking
Your anger, so long as the joyous doves sing.
Your displeasure. The warbling doves don’t enrich me.
أَبصَرتُI discerned رُشديmy right course وَهَجَرتُand I abandoned المُنىwishes
أَبصَرتُ رُشدي وَهَجَرتُ المُنى
وَرُبَّماand often ذَلَّتbowed لَهُنَّto them الرِقابnecks
وَرُبَّما ذَلَّت لَهُنَّ الرِقاب
I have discerned my right course and abandoned wishes,
I saw the right course and left behind passions,
And often necks have bowed before them.
Though at times they make necks bend low.
ياO حامِدَpraiser of القَولِspeech وَلَمand has not يَبلُهُtested it
يا حامِدَ القَولِ وَلَم يَبلُهُ
سَبَقتَyou preceded بِالسَيلِwith the torrent اِنهِلالَthe downpour of السَحابthe clouds
سَبَقتَ بِالسَيلِ اِنهِلالَ السَحاب
O praiser of speech, though you have not tested it,
O you whose words lack any precedent!
You have brought the torrent before the clouds' downpour.
You sent down the torrent before the rain clouds.
الفِعلُaction أَولىmore deserving بِثَناءِof appraisal الفَتىthe man
الفِعلُ أَولى بِثَناءِ الفَتى
ماwhatever جاءَهُhe did it مِنof خَطَلٍfolly أَوor صَوابcorrectness
ما جاءَهُ مِن خَطَلٍ أَو صَواب
Deeds are the better basis for a man's appraisal,
Deeds, not words, bring glory to a man.
Whatever he has done, whether foolish or sound.
Praise what sprouted, be it straight or bent!
دَعleave قَولَthe words of واءٍa promiser وَاِنتَظِرand await فِعلَهُhis deed
دَع قَولَ واءٍ وَاِنتَظِر فِعلَهُ
يُثنيbestows praise عَلىon اللِقحَةِthe milch-camel ماwhat is فيin العِلابthe milk-bowls
يُثني عَلى اللِقحَةِ ما في العِلاب
Set aside a promiser's words and await his deed;
Leave empty boasts and wait for his deeds.
The contents of the milk-bowls praise the milch-camel.
What’s in the meadow praises the flash of lightning.
إِذاwhen غَداsets out at dawn المَهدِيُّal-Mahdi فيamid جُندِهِhis troops
إِذا غَدا المَهدِيُّ في جُندِهِ
أَوor راحَgoes out at evening فيamong آلِthe family of الرَسولِthe Messenger الغِضابwrathful
أَو راحَ في آلِ الرَسولِ الغِضاب
When al-Mahdi goes forth at dawn amid his troops,
When the Mahdi marches with his troops,
Or goes out at evening among the Messenger's wrathful kin,
Or roams among the angry Prophet’s family,
بَداappeared لَكَto you المَعروفُbenevolence فيin وَجهِهِhis face
بَدا لَكَ المَعروفُ في وَجهِهِ
كَالظَلمِlike glistening saliva يَجريflows فيbetween ثَناياthe front teeth of الكَعابthe nubile maiden
كَالظَلمِ يَجري في ثَنايا الكَعاب
Benevolence shows itself to you upon his face,
Goodness appears on his face to you
Like glistening saliva flowing between a maiden's front teeth.
Like darkness running through the creases of a robe.
لاnone كَالفَتىlike the young man المَهدِيُّal-Mahdi فيin رَهطِهِhis clan
لا كَالفَتى المَهدِيُّ في رَهطِهِ
ذوone with شَيبَةٍgray hair كَهلٍmiddle-aged وَلاnor ذوone with شَبابyouth
ذو شَيبَةٍ كَهلٍ وَلا ذو شَباب
None in his clan is like the young man al-Mahdi,
The Mahdi among his comrades is no mere lad,
Neither a gray-haired man of middle age nor a youth.
Neither an old man nor a youth.
لاnot يُحسِنُhe is skilled in الفُحشَfoulness وَيَنكيand wounds العِدىthe foes
لا يُحسِنُ الفُحشَ وَيَنكي العِدى
وَيَعتَريهِand visits him الجودُgenerosity مِنfrom كُلِّevery بابdoor
وَيَعتَريهِ الجودُ مِن كُلِّ باب
He has no skill in foulness, yet wounds his foes,
He doesn’t condone wickedness, loathes injustice,
And generosity visits him through every door.
And generosity flows from him on every side.
ضَرّابُa mighty smiter of أَعناقٍnecks وَفَكّاكُهاand their liberator
ضَرّابُ أَعناقٍ وَفَكّاكُها
فيin مَجلِسِthe council of المُلكِkingship وَظِلِّand the shade of العُقابthe eagle
في مَجلِسِ المُلكِ وَظِلِّ العُقاب
A mighty smiter of necks, and their liberator,
He strikes off necks and emancipates them
In the royal council and beneath the eagle's shadow.
In the king’s court beneath the shadow of punishment.
فيin صَدرِهِhis breast حِلمٌforbearance وَفيand in دِرعِهِhis armor
في صَدرِهِ حِلمٌ وَفي دِرعِهِ
مُظَفَّرُvictorious in الحَزمِresolve كَريمُnoble in المَآبreturn
مُظَفَّرُ الحَزمِ كَريمُ المَآب
In his breast is forbearance; within his armor,
In his heart there is wisdom; his coat of mail
One victorious in resolve, noble in his return.
Is triumphant prudence, noble in purpose.
تَرىyou see حِجاباًa screen دونَهُbefore him هائِلاًformidable
تَرى حِجاباً دونَهُ هائِلاً
وَالرَوحُand comfort وَالأَمنُand safety وَراءَbeyond الحِجابthe screen
وَالرَوحُ وَالأَمنُ وَراءَ الحِجاب
You see a formidable screen before him,
You see before him an awesome veil,
And comfort and safety lie beyond the screen.
While the spirit and safety are behind the veil.
جَرىran اللَهاميمُthe mighty chiefs عَلىon إِثرِهِhis trail
جَرى اللَهاميمُ عَلى إِثرِهِ
جَريَthe running of البَراذينِthe non-Arabian horses خِلافَbehind العِرابthe purebred Arabian horses
جَريَ البَراذينِ خِلافَ العِراب
The mighty chiefs ran in his wake,
Slanderers have followed in his wake
As non-Arabian horses run behind purebred Arabians.
Like Arabs wandering away from encampments.
Claude 2 is inferred from the historical translator configuration. The original record does not identify its model.