بِروحيَ الخالُ في ياقوتِ وَجنَتِهِ

بِروحيَ الخالُ في ياقوتِ وَجنَتِهِ

وَرِثتُ مِنهُ الضّنا فَرضاً بِلا عَبَثِ

وَرِثتُ مِنهُ الضّنا فَرضاً بِلا عَبَثِ

My soul would ransom the mole in the ruby of his cheek.

With my spirit the mole on his cheek of ruby and garden

From it I inherited wasting sickness, as a prescribed share, without jest.

I inherited from him sorrow as my destined share

وَبَعدَ مَوتي بِهِ أَورَثتُهُ خلدي

وَبَعدَ مَوتي بِهِ أَورَثتُهُ خلدي

وَالخالُ في الشّرعِ لَم يورَث وَلَم يَرِثِ

وَالخالُ في الشّرعِ لَم يورَث وَلَم يَرِثِ

And after my death because of it, I bequeathed it my heart.

And after my death with it I bequeath him my eternity

Yet under sacred law, the mole—also a ‘maternal uncle’—is neither inherited from nor inherits.

While the mole, by religious law, inherits not, nor is inherited