لِلَّهِfor God (exclamation) هَذَاthis القَلْبُthe heart كَمhow much يَتَأَلَّمُit aches
لِلَّهِ هَذَا القَلْبُ كَم يَتَأَلَّمُ
وَعَلَىand at فِرَاقِparting from الصَّحْبِthe companions كَمhow much يَتَضَرَّمُit blazes!
وَعَلَى فِرَاقِ الصَّحْبِ كَم يَتَضَرَّمُ!
By God, how this heart aches!
And how it blazes at parting from friends!
صَعْبٌhard فِرَاقُكَparting from you "عَمَّUncle سَالِمُSalim".. حَالُنَاour state
صَعْبٌ فِرَاقُكَ "عَمَّ سَالِمُ".. حَالُنَا
بِالذِّكْرَيَاتِamid memories مُسَلِّمٌresigned مُسْتَسْلِمُsurrendered
بِالذِّكْرَيَاتِ مُسَلِّمٌ مُسْتَسْلِمُ
Hard is parting from you, Uncle Salim; our state
Amid memories is one of resignation and surrender.
نَامَتْfell asleep مَوَاقِدُكَyour hearths الَّتِيthat أَحْيَتْbrought to life لَنَاfor us
نَامَتْ مَوَاقِدُكَ الَّتِي أَحْيَتْ لَنَا
لَيْلَnight الشِّتَاءِwinter وَدَفَّأَتْهُand warmed it الأَنْجُمُthe stars
لَيْلَ الشِّتَاءِ وَدَفَّأَتْهُ الأَنْجُمُ
Your hearths have fallen asleep, those that enlivened for us
The winter night, which the stars warmed.
كُلُّall الرِّفَاقِthe companions قُلُوبُهُمtheir hearts مُشْتَاقَةٌlonging
كُلُّ الرِّفَاقِ قُلُوبُهُم مُشْتَاقَةٌ
وَالصَّمْتُand silence فِيin سَاحِgrounds اللِّقَاءِthe meeting مُخَيِّمُencamped
وَالصَّمْتُ فِي سَاحِ اللِّقَاءِ مُخَيِّمُ
All the companions' hearts are filled with longing,
And silence settles over the meeting ground.
كَمhow many مَرَّةٍa time "شَاهِيكَyour tea" يُسْعِدُgladdens شَارِباًa drinker!
كَم مَرَّةٍ "شَاهِيكَ" يُسْعِدُ شَارِباً!
وَصَدَىand the echo الكَلَامِspeech عَلَىupon شِفَاهِكَyour lips بَلْسَمُbalm
وَصَدَى الكَلَامِ عَلَى شِفَاهِكَ بَلْسَمُ
How often your tea gladdens a drinker!
And the echo of speech upon your lips is balm.
يَاO جَامِعَgatherer of الأَرْوَاحِsouls رُوحاًa soul وَاحِداًsingle
يَا جَامِعَ الأَرْوَاحِ رُوحاً وَاحِداً
كَيْفَhow اسْتَطَعْتَwere you able وَأَنْتَand you فَرْدٌone individual مُعْدَمُdestitute!
كَيْفَ اسْتَطَعْتَ وَأَنْتَ فَرْدٌ مُعْدَمُ!
O you who gathered souls into a single soul,
How did you manage it, though you were one penniless man!
سِتُّونَsixty عَاماًyears "وَالبَرَارِيدُand the teapots" الَّتِيthat
سِتُّونَ عَاماً "وَالبَرَارِيدُ" الَّتِي
عَبَّأْتَهَاyou filled them .. طَيْرٌbirds عَلَيْكَover you تُحَوِّمُhover
عَبَّأْتَهَا .. طَيْرٌ عَلَيْكَ تُحَوِّمُ
Sixty years—and the teapots that
You filled are birds hovering over you.
بِالأَمْسِin days past وَالسُّوقُand the market القَدِيمُold مَحَطَّةٌa stopping place
بِالأَمْسِ وَالسُّوقُ القَدِيمُ مَحَطَّةٌ
وَإِلَيْهِand to it أَنْجَدَtraveled into the uplands عَاشِقُوكَyour admirers وَأَتْهَمُواand traveled into the lowlands
وَإِلَيْهِ أَنْجَدَ عَاشِقُوكَ وَأَتْهَمُوا
In days gone by, the old market was a stopping place,
And to it your admirers journeyed through uplands and lowlands.
يَاO شَيْخُelder "خُوكُكَyour khuk garment" شَامِخٌstanding proud بِبَيَاضِهِin its whiteness
يَا شَيْخُ "خُوكُكَ" شَامِخٌ بِبَيَاضِهِ
وَشُمُوخُand the loftiness رَأْسِكَyour head بِالوُرُودِwith flowers مُعَمَّمُturbaned
وَشُمُوخُ رَأْسِكَ بِالوُرُودِ مُعَمَّمُ
O elder, your khuk garment stands proud in its whiteness,
And your proudly held head is turbaned with flowers.
المُغْرَمُونَthose enamored "بِعَمِّof Uncle سَالِمٍSalim" أُعْجِبُواwere impressed
المُغْرَمُونَ "بِعَمِّ سَالِمٍ" أُعْجِبُوا
وَالزَّائِرُونَand the visitors "بِعَمِّwith Uncle سَالِمٍSalim" أُغْرِمُواfell in love
وَالزَّائِرُونَ "بِعَمِّ سَالِمٍ" أُغْرِمُوا
Those who loved Uncle Salim were filled with admiration,
And visitors fell in love with Uncle Salim.
نَأْوِيwe seek refuge إِلَىto "مَقْهَاهُhis café" مِلْءَthe fullness of شُعُورِنَاour feeling
نَأْوِي إِلَى "مَقْهَاهُ" مِلْءَ شُعُورِنَا
وَكَأَنَّهُand as though he فِيover "كَيْفِنَاour mood" يَتَحَكَّمُhas control
وَكَأَنَّهُ فِي "كَيْفِنَا" يَتَحَكَّمُ
We seek refuge in his café with all our feeling,
And it is as though he governs our mood.
فَتَفُوحُso wafts رَائِحَةُthe scent "الشُّمُطْرِيshumutri (an aromatic herb)" عَاطِرًاfragrant
فَتَفُوحُ رَائِحَةُ "الشُّمُطْرِي" عَاطِرًا
وَبِكَأْسِكَand with your cup الأَشْهَىmost delectable يَبِينُbecomes clear المُبْهَمُwhat is obscure
وَبِكَأْسِكَ الأَشْهَى يَبِينُ المُبْهَمُ
So the fragrant scent of shumutri wafts forth,
And with your most delectable cup, the obscure becomes clear.
كُلُّall المَوَاسِمِthe seasons فِيin وُجُودِكَyour presence تَزْدَهِيgrow radiant
كُلُّ المَوَاسِمِ فِي وُجُودِكَ تَزْدَهِي
فَلَكَمfor how many هَفَاyearned قَلْبٌa heart وَكَمand how many غَنَّىsang فَمُa mouth
فَلَكَم هَفَا قَلْبٌ وَكَم غَنَّى فَمُ
All seasons grow radiant in your presence,
For how many a heart has yearned, and how many a mouth has sung!
فَإِذَاthen whenever شَكَاcomplained of مِنَّاamong us صَفِيٌّa close friend خِلَّهُhis companion
فَإِذَا شَكَا مِنَّا صَفِيٌّ خِلَّهُ
لُذْنَاwe sought refuge بِظِلِّكَin your shade .. فِيْءُsheltering shade ظِلِّكَyour shade مَغْنَمُa boon
لُذْنَا بِظِلِّكَ .. فِيْءُ ظِلِّكَ مَغْنَمُ
Then, whenever a close friend among us complained of his companion,
We sought refuge in your shade—your sheltering shade was a boon.
يَاO "عَمَّUncle سَالِمُSalim" إِنَّنِيindeed I مُتَوَجِّدٌgrief-stricken
يَا "عَمَّ سَالِمُ" إِنَّنِي مُتَوَجِّدٌ
فِيin أَلْفِa thousand قَلْبٍhearts مِنfrom فِرَاقِكَparting from you يَأْلَمُache
فِي أَلْفِ قَلْبٍ مِن فِرَاقِكَ يَأْلَمُ
O Uncle Salim, I am grief-stricken,
In a thousand hearts aching at parting from you.
لَنwill never يَبْلُغَattain الشُّعَرَاءُthe poets فِيكَabout you مَقَالَةًan utterance
لَن يَبْلُغَ الشُّعَرَاءُ فِيكَ مَقَالَةً
لَوeven if أَعْرَبُواspoke in Arabic فِيin قَوْلِهِمtheir speech أَوْor أَعْجَمُواspoke in foreign tongues
لَو أَعْرَبُوا فِي قَوْلِهِم أَوْ أَعْجَمُوا
Poets will never find words worthy of you,
Even if they speak in Arabic or in foreign tongues.
جُرْحٌa wound تَوَزَّعَspread بَيْنَنَاamong us فَجَمِيعُنَاso all of us
جُرْحٌ تَوَزَّعَ بَيْنَنَا فَجَمِيعُنَا
يَشْكُوlaments وَكُلُّand all ضُلُوعِنَاour ribs تَتَأَلَّمُache
يَشْكُو وَكُلُّ ضُلُوعِنَا تَتَأَلَّمُ
A wound has spread among us, so all of us
Lament, and all our ribs ache.
الحُزْنُgrief تَنشُرُspread ظِلَّهُits shadow أَحزَانُنَاour sorrows
الحُزْنُ تَنشُرُ ظِلَّهُ أَحزَانُنَا
وَالنَّارُand the fire تَعْصِفُrages وَالأَسَىand anguish يَتَكَلَّمُspeaks
وَالنَّارُ تَعْصِفُ وَالأَسَى يَتَكَلَّمُ
Grief—our sorrows spread its shadow,
And fire rages, and anguish speaks.
فِيin كُلِّevery زَاوِيَةٍcorner نَرَاكَwe see you تُقِلُّهَاyou uphold it
فِي كُلِّ زَاوِيَةٍ نَرَاكَ تُقِلُّهَا
أَنفَاسُنَاour breaths أَلَمٌpain وَدَمْعَتُنَاand our tear دَمُblood
أَنفَاسُنَا أَلَمٌ وَدَمْعَتُنَا دَمُ
In every corner we see you upholding it;
Our breaths are pain, and our tear is blood.
يَاO رَبِّLord جَازِreward العَبْدَthe servant عَنfor إِحسَانِهِhis kindness
يَا رَبِّ جَازِ العَبْدَ عَن إِحسَانِهِ
جَنَّاتِgardens عَدْنٍEden فِيin هَوَاهَاtheir air يَنعَمُhe enjoys bliss
جَنَّاتِ عَدْنٍ فِي هَوَاهَا يَنعَمُ
O Lord, reward the servant for his kindness
With gardens of Eden, in whose air he may dwell in bliss.
Translation model: Sol 6.1