ماwhatever يُنسِنيmakes me forget الدَهرُtime لاnot يَبرَحceases لَناfor us شَجَناًa sorrow
ما يُنسِني الدَهرُ لا يَبرَح لَنا شَجَناً
يَومٌa day تَدارَكَهُconverged upon it الأَجمالُthe male camels وَالنوقُand the she-camels
يَومٌ تَدارَكَهُ الأَجمالُ وَالنوقُ
Whatever time may make me forget, a sorrow never leaves us:
What time does not make me forget still leaves us with yearning
a day when he-camels and she-camels converged.
A day when beauty and charm were regained
ماnot زالَceased فيin القَلبِthe heart وَجدٌlonging يَرتَقيrises صُعُداًupward
ما زالَ في القَلبِ وَجدٌ يَرتَقي صُعُداً
حَتّىuntil أَصابَreached سَوادَthe dark pupil العَينِof the eye تَغريقُa flooding
حَتّى أَصابَ سَوادَ العَينِ تَغريقُ
Longing in the heart kept climbing higher,
In my heart there remained a passion that climbed heights
until a flood of tears reached the eye's dark pupil.
Until it reached the pupil of my eye and overflowed
أَينَwhere الأولىthose who أَنزَلواthey brought down النُعمانَal-Nu‘man ضاحِيَةًin the open
أَينَ الأولى أَنزَلوا النُعمانَ ضاحِيَةً
أَمor أَينَwhere أَبناءُthe sons شَيبانَof Shayban الغَرانيقُthe cranes; handsome youths
أَم أَينَ أَبناءُ شَيبانَ الغَرانيقُ
Where are those who brought al-Nu‘man down in the open,
Where are the first ones who made Nu'man a meadow
or where are Shayban's sons, those crane-like youths?
Or where are the sons of Shayban, the heroic knights
صاهَرتَyou married into قَوماًa people لِئاماًbase فيin صُدورِهِمُtheir breasts
صاهَرتَ قَوماً لِئاماً في صُدورِهِمُ
ضِغنٌa grudge قَديمٌold وَفيand in أَخلاقِهِمtheir character ضيقُpettiness
ضِغنٌ قَديمٌ وَفي أَخلاقِهِم ضيقُ
You married into a base people, in whose breasts lies
You have allied with wicked people, in whose hearts
an old grudge, and in whose character lies pettiness.
Is ancient rancor and their morals are narrow
قُلsay لِلأُخَيطِلِto al-Ukhaytil (little al-Akhtal) إِذwhen جَدَّgrew earnest الجِراءُthe race بِناbetween us
قُل لِلأُخَيطِلِ إِذ جَدَّ الجِراءُ بِنا
أَقصِرdesist فَإِنَّكَfor you بِالتَقصيرِin falling short مَحقوقُdeserving
أَقصِر فَإِنَّكَ بِالتَقصيرِ مَحقوقُ
Tell al-Ukhaytil, now that our race has grown earnest:
Tell Al-Ukhaydir, when dire need has befallen us
Desist, for falling short is what befits you.
To shorten, for in shortening you will have enough
لاnot تَطلُعُrises الشَمسُthe sun إِلّاexcept وَهوَwhile he فيin تَعَبٍweariness
لا تَطلُعُ الشَمسُ إِلّا وَهوَ في تَعَبٍ
وَلاand not تَغَيَّبُsets إِلّاexcept وَهوَwhile he مَسبوقُoutstripped
وَلا تَغَيَّبُ إِلّا وَهوَ مَسبوقُ
The sun never rises but he is weary,
The sun does not rise except he is in fatigue
nor sets but he has been outstripped.
Nor sets except he is outrun
نَفسيmy soul الفِداءُthe ransom لِقَيسٍfor Qays يَومَthe day تَعصِبكُمbinds you
نَفسي الفِداءُ لِقَيسٍ يَومَ تَعصِبكُم
إِذwhen لاnot يَبُلُّmoistens لِسانَthe tongue الأَخطَلِof al-Akhtal الريقُsaliva
إِذ لا يَبُلُّ لِسانَ الأَخطَلِ الريقُ
My soul be the ransom for Qays on the day they bind you,
My soul is sacrificed for Qays the day your turbans were tied
when saliva does not moisten al-Akhtal's tongue.
For the tongue of Al-Akhṭal cannot be worn out
بيضٌwhite swords بِأَيديهِمُin their hands شُهبٌgleaming مُجَرَّبَةٌbattle-tested
بيضٌ بِأَيديهِمُ شُهبٌ مُجَرَّبَةٌ
لِلهامِfor heads جَذٌsevering وَلِلأَعناقِand for necks تَطبيقُcutting at the joints
لِلهامِ جَذٌ وَلِلأَعناقِ تَطبيقُ
White blades in their hands, gleaming and battle-tested,
In their hands are white swords, tested
severing heads and cutting necks at the joints.
For the zealous a bridle, and for necks a strap
وَالتَغلِبِيّونَand the Taghlibites بِئسَwretched is الفَحلُthe sire فَحلُهُمُtheir sire
وَالتَغلِبِيّونَ بِئسَ الفَحلُ فَحلُهُمُ
فَحلاًas a sire وَأُمُّهُمُand their mother زَلّاءُflat-buttocked مِنطيقُgirdle-wearing
فَحلاً وَأُمُّهُمُ زَلّاءُ مِنطيقُ
And the Taghlibites—their sire is a wretched sire,
And the Taghlib are the worst tribe, their stallion
as sires go; and their mother is flat-buttocked and girdled.
A stallion whose mother is an unsteady she-camel
تَحتَbeneath المَناطِقِthe girdles أَستاهٌarses مُصَلَّبَةٌmarked with crosses
تَحتَ المَناطِقِ أَستاهٌ مُصَلَّبَةٌ
مِثلَlike الدَواthe inkwells مَسَّهاtouched them الأَنقاسُthe inks وَالليقُand the inkwell wadding
مِثلَ الدَوا مَسَّها الأَنقاسُ وَالليقُ
Beneath the girdles are cross-marked arses,
Under the loincloths are stiff lances
like inkwells touched by ink and woolen wadding.
Like tent poles touched by the howdah and the strap