رَفَّshimmered النَّدَىthe dew وَتَنَفَّسَand breathed النُوَّارُthe blossoms
رَفَّ النَّدَى وَتَنَفَّسَ النُوَّارُ
وَتَكَلَّمَتْand spoke بِلُغَاتِهَاin their tongues الأَطْيَارُthe birds
وَتَكَلَّمَتْ بِلُغَاتِهَا الأَطْيَارُ
The dew shimmered, and the blossoms breathed,
And the birds spoke in their own tongues.
وَتَأَرَّجَتْand grew fragrant سُرَرُthe hearts الْبِطَاحِof the broad valleys كَأَنَّمَاas though
وَتَأَرَّجَتْ سُرَرُ الْبِطَاحِ كَأَنَّمَا
فِيin بَطْنِthe hollow كُلِّof every قَرَارَةٍbasin عَطَّارُa perfumer
فِي بَطْنِ كُلِّ قَرَارَةٍ عَطَّارُ
And the hearts of the broad valleys grew fragrant, as though
In the hollow of every basin stood a perfumer.
زَهْرٌblossoms يَرِفُّquiver عَلَىupon الْغُصُونِthe boughs وَطَائِرٌand a bird
زَهْرٌ يَرِفُّ عَلَى الْغُصُونِ وَطَائِرٌ
غَردُmelodious الْهَدِيرِin cooing وَجَدْوَلٌand a brook زَخَّارُoverflowing
غَردُ الْهَدِيرِ وَجَدْوَلٌ زَخَّارُ
Blossoms quivering on the boughs, and a bird
Sweet in its cooing, and an overflowing brook;
وَنَوَاسِمٌand breezes أَنْفَاسُهُنَّtheir breaths طَوِيلَةٌlong
وَنَوَاسِمٌ أَنْفَاسُهُنَّ طَوِيلَةٌ
وَهَوَاجِرٌand noontide heats أَعْمَارُهُنَّtheir lifespans قِصَارُshort
وَهَوَاجِرٌ أَعْمَارُهُنَّ قِصَارُ
And breezes whose breaths are long,
And noontide heats whose lives are short.
وَالْبَاسِقَاتُand the towering palms الْحَامِلاتُfruit-bearing كَأَنَّهَاas though they were
وَالْبَاسِقَاتُ الْحَامِلاتُ كَأَنَّهَا
عُمُدٌpillars مُشَعَّبَةُbranched الذُّرَاat the crowns وَمَنَارُand beacons
عُمُدٌ مُشَعَّبَةُ الذُّرَا وَمَنَارُ
And the towering, fruit-bearing palms seem like
Pillars with branching crowns, and beacon towers.
عَقَدَتْthey tied ذَلاذِلَthe trailing skirts سُوقِهَاof their trunks فِيaround جِيدِهَاtheir necks
عَقَدَتْ ذَلاذِلَ سُوقِهَا فِي جِيدِهَا
وَسَمَتْand rose high فَلَيْسَso cannot تَنَالُهَاreach them الأَبْصَارُthe eyes
وَسَمَتْ فَلَيْسَ تَنَالُهَا الأَبْصَارُ
They tied the trailing skirts of their trunks around their necks
And rose beyond the reach of eyes.
فَأُصُولُهَاso their roots لِلسَّابِحَاتِfor the coursing steeds مَلاعِبٌplaygrounds
فَأُصُولُهَا لِلسَّابِحَاتِ مَلاعِبٌ
وَفُرُوعُهَاand their branches لِلنَّيِّراتِfor the shining stars مَطَارُa place of flight
وَفُرُوعُهَا لِلنَّيِّراتِ مَطَارُ
So their roots are playgrounds for coursing steeds,
And their branches a flight-ground for the shining stars.
يَبْدُوappears بِهَاupon them زَهْوٌripening dates تَخَالُyou imagine إِهَانَهُits fruit-stalks
يَبْدُو بِهَا زَهْوٌ تَخَالُ إِهَانَهُ
فُتُلاًwicks تَمَشَّتْcrept فيthrough ذُرَاهَاtheir tips النَّارُfire
فُتُلاً تَمَشَّتْ في ذُرَاهَا النَّارُ
Ripening dates appear upon them; you would take their stalks
For wicks along whose tips fire has crept.
طَوْرَاًat times تَمِيلُthey lean مَعَwith الرِّيَاحِthe winds وَتَارَةًand at other times
طَوْرَاً تَمِيلُ مَعَ الرِّيَاحِ وَتَارَةً
تَرْتَدُّthey spring back فَهْيَso they are تَحَرُّكٌmovement وَقَرَارُand repose
تَرْتَدُّ فَهْيَ تَحَرُّكٌ وَقَرَارُ
At times they lean with the winds, and at others
Spring back: they are movement and repose.
فَكَأَنَّمَاso it is as though لَعِبَتْtoyed بِهَاwith them سِنَةُdrowsiness الْكَرَىof sleep
فَكَأَنَّمَا لَعِبَتْ بِهَا سِنَةُ الْكَرَى
فَتَمَايَلَتْso they swayed أَوْor بَيْنَهَاamong them أَسْرَارُsecrets
فَتَمَايَلَتْ أَوْ بَيْنَهَا أَسْرَارُ
So it is as though the drowsiness of sleep had toyed with them,
Making them sway—or as though they shared secrets.
فَإِذَاso when رَأَيْتَyou look رَأَيْتَyou see أَحْسَنَthe loveliest جَنَّةٍgarden
فَإِذَا رَأَيْتَ رَأَيْتَ أَحْسَنَ جَنَّةٍ
خَضْرَاءَgreen تَجْرِيflow بَيْنَهَاthrough it الأَنْهَارُthe rivers
خَضْرَاءَ تَجْرِي بَيْنَهَا الأَنْهَارُ
So when you look, you see the loveliest garden,
Green, with rivers flowing through it.
يَتَرَنَّمُsings الْعُصْفُورُthe sparrow فِيin عَذَبَاتِهَاits branch-tips
يَتَرَنَّمُ الْعُصْفُورُ فِي عَذَبَاتِهَا
وَيَصِيحُand calls فِيهَاwithin it الْعَنْدَلُthe nightingale الصَّفَّارُthe whistler
وَيَصِيحُ فِيهَا الْعَنْدَلُ الصَّفَّارُ
The sparrow sings among its branch-tips,
And the whistling nightingale calls within it.
فَالتُّرْبُso the soil مِسْكٌmusk وَالْجَدَاوِلُand the brooks فِضَّةٌsilver
فَالتُّرْبُ مِسْكٌ وَالْجَدَاوِلُ فِضَّةٌ
وَالْقَطْرُand raindrops دُرٌّpearls وَالْبَهَارُand yellow daisies نُضَارُpure gold
وَالْقَطْرُ دُرٌّ وَالْبَهَارُ نُضَارُ
So the soil is musk, and the brooks are silver,
And the raindrops pearls, and the yellow daisies gold.
فَاشْرَبْso drink عَلَىbefore وَجْهِthe face الرَّبِيعِof spring فَإِنَّهُfor it is
فَاشْرَبْ عَلَى وَجْهِ الرَّبِيعِ فَإِنَّهُ
زَمَنٌa season دَمُthe blood الآثَامِof sins فِيهِin it جُبَارُunavenged
زَمَنٌ دَمُ الآثَامِ فِيهِ جُبَارُ
So drink before the face of spring, for it is
A season when the blood of sins goes unavenged.
وَاعْلَمْand know بِأَنَّthat الْمَرءَman غَيْرُnot مُخَلَّدٍimmortal
وَاعْلَمْ بِأَنَّ الْمَرءَ غَيْرُ مُخَلَّدٍ
وَالنَّاسُand people بَعْدُafterward لِغَيْرِهِمْfor others than themselves أَخْبَارُtales
وَالنَّاسُ بَعْدُ لِغَيْرِهِمْ أَخْبَارُ
And know that man is not immortal,
And people afterward are tales for others.
إِنِّيindeed I وَإِنeven though لَعِبَtoyed الزَّمَانُtime بِصَعْدَتِيwith my straight spear
إِنِّي وَإِن لَعِبَ الزَّمَانُ بِصَعْدَتِي
وَابْيَضَّand turned white مِنِّيof mine مَفْرِقٌthe hair-parting وَعِذَارُand sideburns
وَابْيَضَّ مِنِّي مَفْرِقٌ وَعِذَارُ
I, though time has toyed with my spear-straight frame,
And my hair at the parting and my sideburns have turned white,
فَلَنِعْمَso truly excellent ماso long as بَقِيَتْremains لَدَيَّwith me مَهَابَةٌawe
فَلَنِعْمَ ما بَقِيَتْ لَدَيَّ مَهَابَةٌ
تَقْذَىis irritated بِهَاby it عَيْنُthe eye الْعِدَاof enemies وَوَقَارُand dignity
تَقْذَى بِهَا عَيْنُ الْعِدَا وَوَقَارُ
Am a fine man indeed, so long as awe remains with me—
A sting in my enemies’ eyes—and dignity as well.
وَسَعَىand hastened إِلَيَّto me الْحِلْمُforbearance فِيin أَثْوَابِهِits robes
وَسَعَى إِلَيَّ الْحِلْمُ فِي أَثْوَابِهِ
طَرِبَاًjoyfully وَآنَand it is time لِجَهْلِيَfor my folly الإِقْصَارُto cease
طَرِبَاً وَآنَ لِجَهْلِيَ الإِقْصَارُ
And forbearance has hastened to me in its robes,
Joyfully; and it is time for my folly to cease.
أَنَاI لِلصَّدِيقِto the friend كَمَاas يُحِبُّhe wishes وَلِلْعِدَاand to enemies
أَنَا لِلصَّدِيقِ كَمَا يُحِبُّ وَلِلْعِدَا
عِنْدَat الْكَرِيهَةِbattle ضَيْغَمٌa lion زَأَّرُfiercely roaring
عِنْدَ الْكَرِيهَةِ ضَيْغَمٌ زَأَّرُ
I am to a friend as he wishes, and to enemies,
In battle, a fiercely roaring lion.
خَيْلِيmy steeds مُسَوَّمَةٌmarked وَرُمْحِيand my spear ذَابِلٌslender
خَيْلِي مُسَوَّمَةٌ وَرُمْحِي ذَابِلٌ
يَوْمَon the day الطِّعَانِof lance-thrusting وَصَارِمِيand my sharp sword بَتَّارُkeen-cutting
يَوْمَ الطِّعَانِ وَصَارِمِي بَتَّارُ
My steeds are marked, and my spear is slender
On the day of lance-thrusts, and my sword cuts clean.
وَبِرَاحَتِيand in my palm قَلَمٌa pen إِذَاwhen حَرَّكْتُهُI move it
وَبِرَاحَتِي قَلَمٌ إِذَا حَرَّكْتُهُ
روِيَتْare quenched بِهِby it الأَفْهَامُminds وَهْيَwhile they are حِرَارُparched with thirst
روِيَتْ بِهِ الأَفْهَامُ وَهْيَ حِرَارُ
And in my palm is a pen: when I move it,
Minds are quenched by it, though parched with thirst.
تَرْتَدُّrecoil عَنْهُfrom it قَنَابِلٌsquadrons وَجَحَافِلٌand mighty armies
تَرْتَدُّ عَنْهُ قَنَابِلٌ وَجَحَافِلٌ
وَتَكِلُّand grow blunt عَنْهُagainst it أَسِنَّةٌspearpoints وَشِفَارُand blade-edges
وَتَكِلُّ عَنْهُ أَسِنَّةٌ وَشِفَارُ
Squadrons and mighty armies recoil from it,
And spearpoints and blades grow blunt against it.
غَردٌmelodious إِذَاwhen مَاever جَالَroams فَوْقَover صَحِيفَةٍa page
غَردٌ إِذَا مَا جَالَ فَوْقَ صَحِيفَةٍ
سَجَدَتْbowed down لِحُسْنِto the beauty صَرِيرِهِof its scratching الأَوْتَارُthe strings
سَجَدَتْ لِحُسْنِ صَرِيرِهِ الأَوْتَارُ
Melodious, whenever it roams across a page,
The strings bow down before the beauty of its scratching.
وَإِذَاand when امْتَطَىmounts ظَهْرَthe back الْبَنَانِof the fingers لِغَايَةٍtoward a goal
وَإِذَا امْتَطَى ظَهْرَ الْبَنَانِ لِغَايَةٍ
خَضَعتْsubmitted إِلَيْهِto it قَوَارِحٌfull-grown steeds وَمِهارُand colts
خَضَعتْ إِلَيْهِ قَوَارِحٌ وَمِهارُ
And when it mounts the backs of the fingers toward a goal,
Full-grown steeds and colts bow to it.
فَإِذَاso when رَكِبْتُI ride فَكُلُّthen every قِرْنٍrival أَمْيَلٌcowardly
فَإِذَا رَكِبْتُ فَكُلُّ قِرْنٍ أَمْيَلٌ
وَإِذَاand when نَطَقْتُI speak فَكُلُّthen every نُطْقٍutterance رَارُfeeble
وَإِذَا نَطَقْتُ فَكُلُّ نُطْقٍ رَارُ
So when I ride, every rival quails,
And when I speak, all other speech is feeble.
أَلْقَىcast الْكَلامُspeech إِليَّto me ثِنْيَthe loop عِنَانِهِof its reins
أَلْقَى الْكَلامُ إِليَّ ثِنْيَ عِنَانِهِ
وَتَفَاخَرَتْand vied in boasting بِكَلامِيَof my words الأَشْعَارُpoems
وَتَفَاخَرَتْ بِكَلامِيَ الأَشْعَارُ
Speech has yielded the loop of its reins to me,
And poems vie in boasting of my words.