لَأَسماءَfor Asmāʾ إِذwhen أَهليmy people لِأَهلِكِto your people جيرَةٌneighbors
لَأَسماءَ إِذ أَهلي لِأَهلِكِ جيرَةٌ
وَإِذand when كُلُّevery مَوعودٍpromise لَهاof hers أَنتَyou آمِلُهhoping for it
وَإِذ كُلُّ مَوعودٍ لَها أَنتَ آمِلُه
For Asmāʾ, when my people were neighbors to yours,
The names though my tribe are neighbors of yours,
And when you hoped for every promise of hers.
And you are the hope of all promised things,
تَسوفُshe sniffs خُزامىlavender الميثِsoft ground كُلَّevery عَشِيَّةٍevening
تَسوفُ خُزامى الميثِ كُلَّ عَشِيَّةٍ
بِأَزهَرَwith a radiant face كَالدينارِlike a gold dinar حُوٌّdark مَكاحِلُهits eye-rims
بِأَزهَرَ كَالدينارِ حُوٌّ مَكاحِلُه
She would sniff the lavender of the soft ground every evening,
The Pleiades will wander at dusk every evening,
With a face radiant as a dinar, its eye-rims dark.
With flowers like gold coins, bashful their glances.
لَهاshe has نَفَسٌbreath بَعدَafter الكَرىslumber مِنfrom رُقادِهاher sleep
لَها نَفَسٌ بَعدَ الكَرى مِن رُقادِها
كَأَنَّas though فُغامَfragrance المِسكِmusk بِاللَيلِat night شامِلُهenveloping it
كَأَنَّ فُغامَ المِسكِ بِاللَيلِ شامِلُه
Her breath, after sleep, on waking from her slumber,
Her breath after sleep is like musk in the night,
Seems enfolded at night in the fragrance of musk.
Enveloping all in its fragrant embraces.
فَإِنso if تَسأَلينيyou ask me كَيفَhow نَوميmy sleep فَإِنَّنيthen indeed I
فَإِن تَسأَليني كَيفَ نَومي فَإِنَّني
أَرىI see الهَمَّworry أَجفانيhas driven me away عَنِfrom النَومَsleep داخِلُهits inward part
أَرى الهَمَّ أَجفاني عَنِ النَومَ داخِلُه
So if you ask me how I sleep, I
If you ask how I slept, know that care kept
Find that the worry within has driven me from sleep.
My eyelids from closing, though slumber entices.
وَقَومٌand a people أَبوهُمtheir father غالِبٌGhālib أَناI مالُهُمtheir wealth
وَقَومٌ أَبوهُم غالِبٌ أَنا مالُهُم
وَعامٌand a year تَمَشّىwent about بِالفِراءِin furs أَرامِلُهits destitute
وَعامٌ تَمَشّى بِالفِراءِ أَرامِلُه
And a people whose father is Ghālib—I am their wealth,
A people whose father was victor remain ours,
And a year whose destitute went about in furs.
A year walked in splendor though widowed it was.
وَمَجدٌand glory أَذودُI ward off الناسَpeople أَنlest يَلحَقواthey attain بِهِto it
وَمَجدٌ أَذودُ الناسَ أَن يَلحَقوا بِهِ
وَماand no أَحَدٌanyone أَوunless يَبلُغَhe reaches الشَمسَthe sun نائِلُهattaining it
وَما أَحَدٌ أَو يَبلُغَ الشَمسَ نائِلُه
And glory I keep others from attaining,
A glory I keep men from nearing at all,
And no one can attain it unless he reaches the sun.
None can reach the sun or ascend to its hall.
أَناI الخِندِفِيُّof Khindif الحَنظَلِيُّof Ḥanẓala الَّذيthe one who بِهِthrough him
أَنا الخِندِفِيُّ الحَنظَلِيُّ الَّذي بِهِ
إِذاwhen جَمَعَتgather رُكبانَriders جَمعٍa gathering مَنازِلُهits camps
إِذا جَمَعَت رُكبانَ جَمعٍ مَنازِلُه
I am the Khindifī, the Ḥanẓalī, through whom,
I am he the Hudhali, the Khuza'ite acclaimed,
When a gathering's camps assemble its riders,
When riders camped, the place where their tents stood.
عَلىupon الناسِthe people مالاًwealth يَدفَعونَthey pay خَراجَهُits tribute
عَلى الناسِ مالاً يَدفَعونَ خَراجَهُ
وَقَرمٌand a camel-stallion يَدُقُّcrushes الهامَskulls وَالصَخرَand rock بازِلُهits tusk
وَقَرمٌ يَدُقُّ الهامَ وَالصَخرَ بازِلُه
Wealth is due from the people, who pay its tribute;
On people a wealth they would pay as their tribute,
And a camel-stallion whose tusk crushes skulls and rock.
An old camel knocking the rocks with his foot.
أَرىI see كُلُّevery قَومٍpeople وَدَّwished أَكرَمُهُمtheir noblest أَباًby paternal lineage
أَرى كُلُّ قَومٍ وَدَّ أَكرَمُهُم أَباً
إِذاwhen ماever اِنتَمىhe names his lineage لَوif only كانَwere مِنّاof us أَوائِلُهhis forefathers
إِذا ما اِنتَمى لَو كانَ مِنّا أَوائِلُه
I see the noblest-born in every people wishing,
I see every tribe, most generous the one,
Whenever he names his lineage, that his forefathers were of us.
Deemed father if he could claim those first scions.
فَخَرناwe boasted فَصُدِّقناso we were believed عَلىover الناسِpeople كُلِّهِمall of them
فَخَرنا فَصُدِّقنا عَلى الناسِ كُلِّهِم
وَشَرُّand the worst مَساعيendeavors الناسِof people وَالفَخرِand boasting باطِلُهits false part
وَشَرُّ مَساعي الناسِ وَالفَخرِ باطِلُه
We boasted above all people, and were believed;
We fell down believing all people the same,
And the worst of people's striving and boasting is its falsehood.
Vain most human endeavor, empty its vaunts.
أَلَمّاhas it not yet يُنِلgranted لِلناسِto people أَنthat يَتَبَيَّنواthey discern
أَلَمّا يُنِل لِلناسِ أَن يَتَبَيَّنوا
فَيُزجَرَso may be restrained غاوٍa misguided one أَوor يُرىis shown الحَقَّthe truth عاقِلُهtheir discerning one
فَيُزجَرَ غاوٍ أَو يُرى الحَقَّ عاقِلُه
Has it not yet enabled people to discern,
Would that truth for all people be made clear as day,
So a misguided one is checked, or their discerning one is shown the truth?
So fools may be checked and the wise find their way.
وَكُلُّand every أُناسٍpeople يَغضَبونَthey grow angry عَلىover الَّذيthat which
وَكُلُّ أُناسٍ يَغضَبونَ عَلى الَّذي
لَهُمfor them غَيرَناexcept us إِذwhen يَجعَلَhe apportions الخَيرَbounty جاعِلُهits bestower
لَهُم غَيرَنا إِذ يَجعَلَ الخَيرَ جاعِلُه
And every people grows angry over what
Men rage against any who don't choose their creed,
Is theirs—except us—when its bestower apportions bounty.
Though the best deeds flow not from one font alone.
إِلَيكَto you اِبنَson of لَيلىLaylā ياO اِبنَson of لَيلىLaylā تَجَوَّزَتshe crossed
إِلَيكَ اِبنَ لَيلى يا اِبنَ لَيلى تَجَوَّزَت
فَلاةًa desert وَداوِيّاًand a vast waste دِفاناًburied مَناهِلُهits watering holes
فَلاةً وَداوِيّاً دِفاناً مَناهِلُه
To you, son of Laylā—O son of Laylā—she has crossed
O son of Layla, to you now I call,
A desert and a vast waste whose waterholes lie buried;
Who roamed the wide world, and drank from its pools-
تُجيلَset swirling دِلاءَbuckets القَومِof the people فيهِin it غُثائَهُits floating debris
تُجيلَ دِلاءَ القَومِ فيهِ غُثائَهُ
إِجالَةَthe stirring of حَمِّmolten fat المُستَذيبَةِthe woman rendering fat جامِلُهits renderer
إِجالَةَ حَمِّ المُستَذيبَةِ جامِلُه
The people's buckets stir its floating debris within it,
You poured salve on the wounds of the folk in their griefs,
As its renderer stirs a woman's molten fat.
Like the blender of sauce from fermenting dead grubs.