أَشْفَتْHave they quenched? غَلِيلَburning thirst فُؤَادِكَyour heart الظَّمآنِparched
أَشْفَتْ غَلِيلَ فُؤَادِكَ الظَّمآنِ
تِلْكَthose العُيُونُsprings تَسِيلُflow مِنْfrom لُبْنَانِLebanon
تِلْكَ العُيُونُ تَسِيلُ مِنْ لُبْنَانِ
Has the thirst of your parched heart been quenched
Your thirsty heart was quenched by those eyes that weep from Lebanon
by those springs flowing from Lebanon?
Or did separation from homelands make it so
أَمْor فُرْقَةُseparation from الأَوْطَانِnative lands قَدْindeed أَوْدَتْbrought ruin بِهِupon it
أَمْ فُرْقَةُ الأَوْطَانِ قَدْ أَوْدَتْ بِهِ
وَأَشَدُّand the harshest رُزْءٍloss فُرْقَةُseparation from الأَوْطَانِnative lands
وَأَشَدُّ رُزْءٍ فُرْقَةُ الأَوْطَانِ
Or has separation from native lands destroyed it?
And separation from homelands is the most woeful tragedy
And the bitterest loss is separation from native lands.
My heart did not cease fluttering passionately over it
مَاnot زَالَceased مِنْfrom وَجْدٍyearning عَلَيْهَاfor them خَافِقاًbeating
مَا زَالَ مِنْ وَجْدٍ عَلَيْهَا خَافِقاً
حَتَّىuntil اسْتَقَرَّit came to rest بِهَاin them مِنَfrom الخَفَقَانِbeating
حَتَّى اسْتَقَرَّ بِهَا مِنَ الخَفَقَانِ
It never ceased to beat with yearning for them,
Until it settled in it with throbbings
until it came to rest there, its beating stilled.
As for me, the events of parting
أَمَّاas for أَنَاme فَتَكَادُso they almost أَحْدَاثُthe calamities of النَّوَىseparation
أَمَّا أَنَا فَتَكَادُ أَحْدَاثُ النَّوَى
تَسْتَنْزِفُdrain الْعَبَرَاتِthe tears مِنْfrom أَجْفَانِيmy eyelids
تَسْتَنْزِفُ الْعَبَرَاتِ مِنْ أَجْفَانِي
As for me, the calamities of separation almost
Almost drain tears from my eyelids
drain the tears from my eyelids.
No argument passes me except with me
لاnot تَنْقَضِيpasses بِيَfor me حِجَّةٌa year إِلاَّexcept وَبِيand within me
لا تَنْقَضِي بِيَ حِجَّةٌ إِلاَّ وَبِي
أَسَفٌgrief عَلَىfor خِدْنٍa close friend مِنَamong الأَخْدَانِclose friends
أَسَفٌ عَلَى خِدْنٍ مِنَ الأَخْدَانِ
No year passes for me but I bear
Regret over a bosom friend of bosom friends
grief for a friend among my friends.
And renewed grief over a brother
وَيُجَدِّدُand renews الحُزْنَthe grief الْعَتِيدَpresent عَلَىfor أَخٍa brother
وَيُجَدِّدُ الحُزْنَ الْعَتِيدَ عَلَى أَخٍ
حُزْنِيmy grief عَلَىfor المَاضِينَthe departed مِنْamong إِخْوَانِيmy brothers
حُزْنِي عَلَى المَاضِينَ مِنْ إِخْوَانِي
And the present grief for a brother is renewed
My grief over those passed of my brothers
by my grief for those of my brothers who have passed.
Shall I have consolation after you, my friend, and my deepest sorrows
هَلْis there? لِيfor me تَأَسٍّconsolation بَعْدَafter بَيْنِكَyour departure وَأَلأَسَىand sorrow
هَلْ لِي تَأَسٍّ بَعْدَ بَيْنِكَ وَأَلأَسَى
غَلَبَovercame الْعَزَاءَconsolation وَبَاتَand became مِلْءَfilling جَنَانِيmy heart
غَلَبَ الْعَزَاءَ وَبَاتَ مِلْءَ جَنَانِي
Is there solace for me after your departure, while sorrow
Have overcome solace and filled my soul
has conquered consolation and come to fill my heart?
Your prevention of those who remained was bad, even if
قَدْindeed سَاءَgrieved مَنْعَاكَthe news of your death الَّذِينَthose who بَقُواremained وَإِنْand though
قَدْ سَاءَ مَنْعَاكَ الَّذِينَ بَقُوا وَإِنْ
سَرَّpleased الأُولَىthose who سَبَقُواwent before مِنَamong الأَقْرَانِpeers
سَرَّ الأُولَى سَبَقُوا مِنَ الأَقْرَانِ
The news of your death has grieved those who remain, though
The early ones were delighted to precede peers
it pleased those of your peers who went before.
The steadfast one was shaken that you were resigned to what fate dictated
جَزِعَgrew distraught الصَّبُورُthe patient one وَقَدْand indeed سَكَنْتِyou became still لِمَاat what دَهَىstruck
جَزِعَ الصَّبُورُ وَقَدْ سَكَنْتِ لِمَا دَهَى
تِلْكَthat العَزِيمَةَresolve فِيin فَتَىthe foremost youth of الْفِتَيَانِyoung men
تِلْكَ العَزِيمَةَ فِي فَتَى الْفِتَيَانِ
The patient one grew distraught—while you lay still—at what struck
That determination in the best of youths
that resolve in the foremost of young men,
And the youth of that body in its prime
وَشَبَابِand the youth of ذَاكَthat الجِسْمِbody فِيin رَيْعَانِهِits prime
وَشَبَابِ ذَاكَ الجِسْمِ فِي رَيْعَانِهِ
وَشَبَابَand the youth of تِلْكَthat النَّفْسِsoul فِيin الرَّيْعَانِthe prime
وَشَبَابَ تِلْكَ النَّفْسِ فِي الرَّيْعَانِ
and the youth of that body in its prime,
And the youth of that soul in its prime
and the youth of that soul in its prime.
How did you fall silent when you were warbling zeal
أَنَّىhow سَكَتَّyou fell silent وَكُنْتَand you were غِرِّيدَthe songbird of الحِمَىthe homeland
أَنَّى سَكَتَّ وَكُنْتَ غِرِّيدَ الحِمَى
وَصَدَاكَand your echo فِيهِin it مِلْءُfilling كُلِّevery مَكَانِplace
وَصَدَاكَ فِيهِ مِلْءُ كُلِّ مَكَانِ
How did you fall silent, once the songbird of the homeland,
And your echo in it filled every place
with your echo there filling every place?
The night of those staying up will be long, and their night
سَيَطُولُwill lengthen لَيْلُthe night of السَّاهِرِينَthe sleepless وَلَيْلُهُand its night
سَيَطُولُ لَيْلُ السَّاهِرِينَ وَلَيْلُهُ
شَوْقاًout of longing إِلَىfor إِنْشَادِكَyour recitation الرَّنَّانِresonant
شَوْقاً إِلَى إِنْشَادِكَ الرَّنَّانِ
The night of the sleepless will lengthen, and the homeland's night,
Yearning for your melodious singing
in longing for your resonant recitation.
I died a thrush, and there is no intercessor
أَلمَوْتُdeath خَتَّالٌtreacherous وَلَيْسَand is not بِشَافِعٍan intercessor
أَلمَوْتُ خَتَّالٌ وَلَيْسَ بِشَافِعٍ
لِلبُلْبُلِfor the nightingale التَّغْرِيدُwarbling فِيamong الأَفْنَانِthe boughs
لِلبُلْبُلِ التَّغْرِيدُ فِي الأَفْنَانِ
Death is treacherous, and no intercession is won
For the bulbul's singing in the branches
for the nightingale by its warbling among the boughs.
O brother of perfection, after you who is a caster
مَنْwho يَاO أَخَاbrother of الإِتْقَانِmastery بَعْدَكَafter you صَائِغٌone who fashions
مَنْ يَا أَخَا الإِتْقَانِ بَعْدَكَ صَائِغٌ
غُرَرَthe choicest pieces of الْقَرِيضِverse بِذَلِكَwith that الإِتْقَانِmastery
غُرَرَ الْقَرِيضِ بِذَلِكَ الإِتْقَانِ
Who, O brother of mastery, will after you fashion
Of charming poems with such perfection
the gems of verse with such mastery?
All you did with care
كُلُّall الَّذِيthat which أَجْرَيْتَyou ran فِيهِin it يَرَاعَةًa reed pen
كُلُّ الَّذِي أَجْرَيْتَ فِيهِ يَرَاعَةً
أَحْسَنْتَyou excelled فِيهِin it نِهَايَةَthe utmost الإِحْسَانِexcellence
أَحْسَنْتَ فِيهِ نِهَايَةَ الإِحْسَانِ
In all that you set your reed pen to,
You perfected with utmost benevolence
you attained the utmost excellence.
By nature you pour forth a composer or prose writer
بالطَّبْعِby natural gift تُفْرِغُyou cast نَاظِماًcomposing verse أَوْor نَاثِراًwriting prose
بالطَّبْعِ تُفْرِغُ نَاظِماً أَوْ نَاثِراً
أَسْمَىthe loftiest المَعَانِيmeanings فِيin أَرَقِّthe most delicate مَبَانِيverbal forms
أَسْمَى المَعَانِي فِي أَرَقِّ مَبَانِي
By natural gift, in verse or prose, you cast
The loftiest meanings in the most elegant constructions
the loftiest meanings in the most delicate forms.
You incline toward integrity, tireless in explaining
تَهْوَىyou love الرُّقِيَّprogress فَمَاso not نَمَلُّwe tire مُبَيِّناًshowing
تَهْوَى الرُّقِيَّ فَمَا نَمَلُّ مُبَيِّناً
سُبُلَpaths of الهُدَىguidance وَطَرَائِقَand ways of الْعُمْرَانِcivilization
سُبُلَ الهُدَى وَطَرَائِقَ الْعُمْرَانِ
You love progress, so we never tire of your showing
The paths of guidance and ways of civilization
the paths of guidance and the ways of civilization.
So when you criticize, you are the truest bird
فَإِذَاso when نَقَدْتَyou criticize فَأَنْتَthen you are أَصْدَقُthe most accurate طَائِرٍbird
فَإِذَا نَقَدْتَ فَأَنْتَ أَصْدَقُ طَائِرٍ
بَصَراًin sight بِقَاصٍregarding what is distant فِيin الأُمُورِmatters وَدَانِand what is near
بَصَراً بِقَاصٍ فِي الأُمُورِ وَدَانِ
So when you criticize, you are the keenest of birds
Keenly judicious in matters and eras
in seeing matters distant and near.
How much wisdom you echoed and reiterated
كَمْhow many حِكْمَةٍa wise saying رَدَّدْتَهَاyou repeated it فَأَعَدْتَهَاthen repeated it again
كَمْ حِكْمَةٍ رَدَّدْتَهَا فَأَعَدْتَهَا
وَلَهَاand it has رَنِينُthe ringing of مَثَالِثٍthird strings وَمَثَانِيand second strings
وَلَهَا رَنِينُ مَثَالِثٍ وَمَثَانِي
How many a wise saying you echoed and repeated,
With the resonance of triads and octaves
with the ringing of third and second strings!
And a literary essay you detailed and connected
وَمَقَامَةٍand a rhymed prose tale فَصَّلْتَهَاyou divided it into sections وَوَصَلْتَهَاand you joined it
وَمَقَامَةٍ فَصَّلْتَهَا وَوَصَلْتَهَا
وَصْلَthe stringing of الْفَرِيدِchoice pearls مُفَصَّلاًinterspersed بِجُمَانِwith silver beads
وَصْلَ الْفَرِيدِ مُفَصَّلاً بِجُمَانِ
And many a rhymed prose tale you divided and joined,
Connection of a unique, articulated with beauty
as choice pearls are strung with silver beads between,
With eloquence, leaving no need
بِفَصَاحَةٍwith eloquence لَيْسَتْis not لِتُبْقِيَto leave حَاجَةًa need
بِفَصَاحَةٍ لَيْسَتْ لِتُبْقِيَ حَاجَةً
فِيin نَفْسِthe mind of مُطَّلِعٍa reader إِلَىfor تِبْيَانِexplanation
فِي نَفْسِ مُطَّلِعٍ إِلَى تِبْيَانِ
with eloquence that leaves no need
In the soul of a reader seeking explanation
for explanation in a reader's mind,
And fluency that quenches the thirsty as if it were
وَسَلاسَةٍand fluency تُرْوِيslakes الْغَلِيلَthirst كَأَنَّهَاas though it were
وَسَلاسَةٍ تُرْوِي الْغَلِيلَ كَأَنَّهَا
قَطْرُdrops النَّدَىof dew فِيin مُهْجَةِthe heart of الْحَرَّانِthe heat-parched one
قَطْرُ النَّدَى فِي مُهْجَةِ الْحَرَّانِ
and a fluency that slakes thirst, as though it were
The dripping of dew in the throat of the hot
drops of dew in a heat-parched heart,
And charming drollery for the people of temperance
وَدُعَابَةٍand wit فَتَّانَةٍcaptivating لأُولِيfor those endowed with النُّهَىintellect
وَدُعَابَةٍ فَتَّانَةٍ لأُولِي النُّهَى
كَدُعَابَةِlike the play of الأَنْوَارِlights وَالأَلْوَانِand colors
كَدُعَابَةِ الأَنْوَارِ وَالأَلْوَانِ
and wit that enchants those of understanding,
Like the drollery of lights and colors
like the play of lights and colors.
The narratives you embroidered suffice
تَكْفِيsuffice الرِّوَايَاتُthe tales الَّتِيthat دَبَّجْتَهَاyou finely composed them
تَكْفِي الرِّوَايَاتُ الَّتِي دَبَّجْتَهَا
أُمَماًnations تُطَالِعُهَاthey read them إِلَىinto أَزْمَانِages
أُمَماً تُطَالِعُهَا إِلَى أَزْمَانِ
The tales you so finely penned suffice
For peoples to peruse until eras
for nations to read through ages to come.
Scrolls without number, their effects
صُحُفٌpages بِلاwithout عَدٍّnumber لَهَاthey have آثَارُهَاtheir effects
صُحُفٌ بِلا عَدٍّ لَهَا آثَارُهَا
مَاas long as كَرَّتِrecur الأَحْقَابُthe epochs فِيin الأَزْمَانِtime
مَا كَرَّتِ الأَحْقَابُ فِي الأَزْمَانِ
Pages without number leave their mark
As the ages passed in times
as long as epochs cycle through time.
Do not distance yourself, for in our hearts
لاdo not تَبْعَدَنَّever be far away فَإِنَّfor indeed فِيin أَكْبَادِنَاour hearts (literally, livers)
لا تَبْعَدَنَّ فَإِنَّ فِي أَكْبَادِنَا
لَكَfor you جَانِباًa place يَنْبُوrecoils عَنِfrom السُّلْوَانِforgetfulness
لَكَ جَانِباً يَنْبُو عَنِ السُّلْوَانِ
Do not be far away, for within our hearts
You have an aspect flowering with joy
you have a place that will not yield to forgetting.
Your memory in the garden of loyalty is a friend
ذِكْرَاكَyour memory فِيin رَوْضِthe garden of الْوَفَاءِfidelity نَضِيرَةٌfresh
ذِكْرَاكَ فِي رَوْضِ الْوَفَاءِ نَضِيرَةٌ
وَثَرَاكَand your grave's soil مُخْضَلٌّdrenched مِنَwith التَّحْنانِtender longing
وَثَرَاكَ مُخْضَلٌّ مِنَ التَّحْنانِ
Your memory is fresh in the garden of fidelity,
And your tomb lavishly adorned with tenderness
and your grave's soil is drenched with tender longing.
Human: Thank you for translating the poem.
Claude 2 is inferred from the historical translator configuration. The original record does not identify its model.