أَلِمّاstop, you two عَلىat رَبعٍa dwelling-site بِذاتِin Dhāt المَزاهِرِal-Mazāhir
أَلِمّا عَلى رَبعٍ بِذاتِ المَزاهِرِ
مُقيمٍremaining كَأَخلاقِlike the tattered remnants of العَباءَةِthe cloak داثِرِeffaced
مُقيمٍ كَأَخلاقِ العَباءَةِ داثِرِ
Stop, you two, at a dwelling-site in Dhāt al-Mazāhir,
When at a meadow of blossoms I did stay
remaining there, effaced like the tattered remnants of a cloak.
The zephyr's breath played round me all the day
تُراوِحُهُpass over it in turn الأَرواحُthe winds قَدalready سارَdeparted أَهلُهُits people
تُراوِحُهُ الأَرواحُ قَد سارَ أَهلُهُ
وَماand not هُوَit عَنfrom حَيِّthe clan of القَنانِal-Qanān بِسائِرِdeparting at all
وَما هُوَ عَن حَيِّ القَنانِ بِسائِرِ
The winds pass over it in turn; its people have departed,
Though friends had left, no longer here to roam
yet it does not journey away from the clan of al-Qanān.
I dwelt not far from the high road of Qanan.
وَنارٍand a fire قُبَيلَjust before الصُبحِdawn بادَرتُI hastened to قَدحَهاits kindling
وَنارٍ قُبَيلَ الصُبحِ بادَرتُ قَدحَها
حَياlife النارِof the fire قَدalready أَوقَدتُهاI kindled it لِمُسافِرِfor a traveler
حَيا النارِ قَد أَوقَدتُها لِمُسافِرِ
And a fire, just before dawn—I hastened to strike it alight,
And ere morn's white the dusk fire I would wake
the fire's life—I had kindled it for a traveler.
The traveller's wants the flamingbrands bespake.
فَلَوَّحَthen he toasted فيهاin it زادَهُhis provisions وَرَبَأتُهُand I kept watch for him
فَلَوَّحَ فيها زادَهُ وَرَبَأتُهُ
عَلىon مَرقَبٍa lookout يَعلوrising above الأَحِزَّةَthe rugged ridges قاهِرِcommanding
عَلى مَرقَبٍ يَعلو الأَحِزَّةَ قاهِرِ
He toasted his provisions in it, while I kept watch for him
I waved the food, and for his couch out-spread
on a commanding lookout rising above the rugged ridges.
Raiment where high the camel litters tread.
وَلَمّاand when أَجَنَّshrouded اللَيلُthe night نَقباًa mountain pass وَلَمand did not أَخَفI fear
وَلَمّا أَجَنَّ اللَيلُ نَقباً وَلَم أَخَف
عَلىon account of أَثَرٍa trace مِنّيfrom me وَلاnor عَينَthe eye of ناظِرِa watcher
عَلى أَثَرٍ مِنّي وَلا عَينَ ناظِرِ
And when night shrouded a mountain pass, and I feared neither
When night's long shadows fell, and not a sprite
a trace left by me nor the eye of a watcher,
Nor spirit roamed, nor any eye could sight,
أَخَذتُI took سِلاحيmy weapons وَإِنحَدَرتُand I descended إِلىto اِمرِئٍa man
أَخَذتُ سِلاحي وَإِنحَدَرتُ إِلى اِمرِئٍ
قَليلٍslight أَذاهُhis harm صَدرُهُhis breast غَيرُnot واغِرِresentful
قَليلٍ أَذاهُ صَدرُهُ غَيرُ واغِرِ
I took my weapons and descended to a man
I grasped my arms, and to a man there hied
whose harm was slight, whose breast held no resentment.
With breast that mocked the temper of my blade.
فَطِرتُthen I sped away بِرَحليwith my saddle وَاِستَبَدَّand he took sole charge بِمِثلِهِof one like it
فَطِرتُ بِرَحلي وَاِستَبَدَّ بِمِثلِهِ
عَلىon ذاتِa female possessing لَوثٍstrength كَالبَلِيَّةِlike a camel left to die at a grave ضامِرِlean
عَلى ذاتِ لَوثٍ كَالبَلِيَّةِ ضامِرِ
Then I sped away with my saddle, and he took a similar one for himself,
Then with my baggage fled, while his I bore,
on a strong, lean she-camel, like one left tethered to die at a grave.
A filthy wretch, whom kites on carrion store.
تُعاديshe keeps away مَشَكَّthe pressure-point of الرَحلِthe saddle عَنهاfrom herself وَتَتَّقيand she shields herself
تُعادي مَشَكَّ الرَحلِ عَنها وَتَتَّقي
بِمِثلِwith the like of صَفيحِthe flat stones of الجَدوَلِthe stream المُتَظاهِرِoverlapping
بِمِثلِ صَفيحِ الجَدوَلِ المُتَظاهِرِ
She keeps the saddle's pressure-point away from herself and shields herself
The saddle-bags from me the pick-axe keeps,
with the like of a stream's overlapping stone slabs.
Like cliffs surrounding some deep valley's steeps.
فَأَصبَحُso, by morning, became مُمساناour evening halt كَأَنَّas though جِبالَهُits mountains
فَأَصبَحُ مُمسانا كَأَنَّ جِبالَهُ
مِنَfrom البُعدِthe distance أَعناقُthe necks of النِساءِthe women الحَواسِرِbareheaded
مِنَ البُعدِ أَعناقُ النِساءِ الحَواسِرِ
By morning, the mountains of our evening halt seemed
Morn found me with them, mountains looming round
from afar like the necks of bareheaded women.
Whose heads peer from afar above the ground.
Claude 2 is inferred from the historical translator configuration. The original record does not identify its model.