اًهَلّاwhy not بَكَيتَyou wept ظَعائِناًwomen in howdahs وَحُمولاand laden camels
اًهَلّا بَكَيتَ ظَعائِناً وَحُمولا
تَرَكَleft الفُؤادَthe heart فِراقُهُمtheir parting مَخبولاdistraught
تَرَكَ الفُؤادَ فِراقُهُم مَخبولا
Why did you not weep for women in howdahs and laden camels?
Alas, you wept over our ruins and homes left in despair
Their parting left the heart distraught.
Your heart broken by their departure, shattered
أَمّاas for الخَليطُthe companions فَزائِلونَso they are departing لِفُرقَةٍfor separation
أَمّا الخَليطُ فَزائِلونَ لِفُرقَةٍ
فَمَتىso when تَراهُمwill you see them راجِعينَreturning قُفولاhomeward-bound
فَمَتى تَراهُم راجِعينَ قُفولا
As for the companions, they are departing, bound for separation;
The mixed folk are fleeting, gone for good
so when will you see them returning, homeward-bound?
When will we see them again returning?
أَتبَعتُهُمI followed them عَينَthe eye الرَقيبِof the watcher مُخالِساًfurtively stealing
أَتبَعتُهُم عَينَ الرَقيبِ مُخالِساً
لَحظاًa glance كَماas نَظَرَlooked الأَسيرُthe captive كَليلاweary-eyed
لَحظاً كَما نَظَرَ الأَسيرُ كَليلا
I followed them with a watcher's eye, stealing
I followed their trail, stealthily, with a watcher's eye
a glance, as a captive looks, weary-eyed.
A glance, like a captive staring through the mesh
تَاللَهِby God ماnot جَهلَwas ignorant السُرورُjoy وَلاnor الكَرىsleep
تَاللَهِ ما جَهلَ السُرورُ وَلا الكَرى
أَنَّthat الفِراقَparting مِنَover اللِقاءِreunion أُدَيلاwas given ascendancy
أَنَّ الفِراقَ مِنَ اللِقاءِ أُدَيلا
By God, neither joy nor sleep was unaware
By God, joy and sorrow alike know
that parting had prevailed over reunion.
That parting from union is misery
فإِذاso when زَجَرتُI chide القَلبَthe heart زادَincreases وَجيبُهُits pounding
فإِذا زَجَرتُ القَلبَ زادَ وَجيبُهُ
وَإِذاand when حَبَستُI restrain الدَمعَthe tears فاضَoverflow هُمولاin torrents
وَإِذا حَبَستُ الدَمعَ فاضَ هُمولا
So when I chide my heart, its pounding grows;
If I chide my heart, its pounding grows
and when I restrain my tears, they pour forth in torrents.
If I hold back my tears, they pour uncontrolled
وَإِذاand when كَتَمتُI conceal جَوىthe burning ache الأَسىof sorrow بَعَثَsends forth الهَوىlonging
وَإِذا كَتَمتُ جَوى الأَسى بَعَثَ الهَوى
نَفَساًa sigh يَكونُbecomes عَلىof الضَميرِthe inner heart دَليلاa sign
نَفَساً يَكونُ عَلى الضَميرِ دَليلا
And when I hide sorrow's burning ache, longing sends forth
If I hide my sorrow's secret, passion stirs
a sigh that bears witness to the heart's secret.
A breath to haunt my soul and speak its pain
واهاًah! لِأَيّامِfor the days الصِباof youth وَزَمانِهِand its season
واهاً لِأَيّامِ الصِبا وَزَمانِهِ
لَوif only كانَit had أَسعَفَobliged بِالمُقامِby staying قَليلاa little while
لَو كانَ أَسعَفَ بِالمُقامِ قَليلا
Ah, for the days and season of youth!
Woe for the days of youth and their time
If only it had obliged me by staying a little longer!
If only they had lingered a little longer
سَلask عَيشَthe life دَهرٍof an age قَدalready مَضَتhave passed أَيّامُهُits days
سَل عَيشَ دَهرٍ قَد مَضَت أَيّامُهُ
هَلwhether يَستَطيعُit can إِلىto الرُجوعِreturn سَبيلاa way
هَل يَستَطيعُ إِلى الرُجوعِ سَبيلا
Ask the life of an age whose days have passed:
Ask the life of an age now past
can it find a way to return?
Can it find its way back? Not a chance
لَوif عادَreturned آخِرُهُits latter days كَأَوَّلِlike the beginning عَهدِهِof its days
لَو عادَ آخِرُهُ كَأَوَّلِ عَهدِهِ
فيماin what مَضىpassed لَمnot أَشفِI quenched مِنهُfrom it غَليلاa burning thirst
فيما مَضى لَم أَشفِ مِنهُ غَليلا
If its latter days returned as its first days were
If its ending were as its beginning
in times gone by, I would not have quenched my thirst for it.
I would not recall it with rancor
وَلَرُبَّand indeed many a يَومٍday لِلصِباof youth قَصَّرتُهُI shortened it
وَلَرُبَّ يَومٍ لِلصِبا قَصَّرتُهُ
بِالمُلهياتِwith diversions وَقَدthough indeed يَكونُit might be طَويلاlong
بِالمُلهياتِ وَقَد يَكونُ طَويلا
And many a day of youth I shortened
Many a day of youth I shortened
with diversions, though it might be long.
Lost in trifles, heedless it was fleeting
وَسُلافَةٍand choice wine صَهباءَtawny بِنتِdaughter of سُلافَةٍchoice wine
وَسُلافَةٍ صَهباءَ بِنتِ سُلافَةٍ
صَفراءَgolden لَمّاnot yet تُعصَرِpressed التَسليلاextraction
صَفراءَ لَمّا تُعصَرِ التَسليلا
And tawny, choice wine, daughter of choice wine,
A milky Sulafa, bleached daughter of Sulafa
golden, not yet pressed for extraction.
Her squeezings give only pale whey
أُختانِtwo sisters واحِدَةٌone هِيَshe اِبنَةُthe daughter أُختِهاof her sister
أُختانِ واحِدَةٌ هِيَ اِبنَةُ أُختِها
كِلتاهُماboth of them تَدَعُleave الصَحيحَthe healthy man عَليلاailing
كِلتاهُما تَدَعُ الصَحيحَ عَليلا
Two sisters: one is the daughter of her sister;
Two sisters, each the daughter of the other's sister
both leave the healthy man ailing.
Both calling the purebred a sickly thing
لاdo not تَسقِنيgive me to drink الماءَthe water القُراحَpure and unmixed وَهاتِهاand bring her
لا تَسقِني الماءَ القُراحَ وَهاتِها
عَذراءَvirgin صافِيَةَclear الأَديمِof skin شَمولاwine
عَذراءَ صافِيَةَ الأَديمِ شَمولا
Do not give me plain water; bring her to me—
Don't give me tainted water, bring her
a virgin wine, clear-skinned,
A chaste beauty, smooth of skin
خَرقاءَflighty يَرعُشُtrembles بَعضُهاpart of her مِنfrom بَعضِهاpart of her
خَرقاءَ يَرعُشُ بَعضُها مِن بَعضِها
لَمnot تَتَّخِذshe has taken غَيرَother than المِزاجِthe mixing water خَليلاa lover
لَم تَتَّخِذ غَيرَ المِزاجِ خَليلا
a flighty one, whose parts tremble against one another,
Tattered, parts trembling against parts
who has taken no lover but her mixing water.
She took none but dilutents for lover
سُلَّتshe was drawn out فَسُلَّتthen she was wasted ثُمَّthen سُلَّwas wasted سَليلُهاher offspring
سُلَّت فَسُلَّت ثُمَّ سُلَّ سَليلُها
فَأَتىso came سَليلُthe offspring سَليلِهاof her offspring مَسلولاwasted
فَأَتى سَليلُ سَليلِها مَسلولا
She was drawn out, then drawn thin; then her offspring was wasted,
She was milked, and milked, milked her milkling
and her offspring's offspring came forth wasted.
Till her milkling's milking came eased
بَعَثَتshe sent إِلىto سِرِّthe secret الضَميرِof the inner heart فَجاءَهاand it came to her
بَعَثَت إِلى سِرِّ الضَميرِ فَجاءَها
سَلِساًsmoothly عَلىamid هَذَرِthe idle chatter اللِسانِof the tongue مَقولاuttered
سَلِساً عَلى هَذَرِ اللِسانِ مَقولا
She sent for the heart's hidden secret, and it came to her,
She awoke in the soul's secret and there came to her
flowing freely, uttered in the tongue's idle chatter.
A soft voice, fluent on the tongue
لَطَفَwas kind المِزاجُthe mixing water لَهاto her فَزَيَّنَand adorned كَأسَهاher cup
لَطَفَ المِزاجُ لَها فَزَيَّنَ كَأسَها
بِقِلادَةٍwith a necklace جُعِلَتwas made لَهاfor her إِكليلاa crown
بِقِلادَةٍ جُعِلَت لَها إِكليلا
The mixing water was kind to her and adorned her cup
Fine temper lent savor to her cup
with a necklace made into a crown for her.
Crowning it with a wreath made her garland
قُتِلَتshe was slain وَعاجَلَهاand rushed upon her المُديرُthe cupbearer فَلَمyet not تَفِظshe expired
قُتِلَت وَعاجَلَها المُديرُ فَلَم تَفِظ
فَإِذاthen behold بِهِthere he was قَدalready صَيَّرَتهُshe made him قَتيلاa slain man
فَإِذا بِهِ قَد صَيَّرَتهُ قَتيلا
She was slain; the cupbearer rushed upon her, yet she had not expired,
Killed outright, no chance to scream
when, behold, she had turned him into the slain one.
There the publisher left her slain
وَهَجيرَةٍand a midday blaze كَلَّفتُI tasked طَيَّcrossing مَقيلِهاits midday resting-ground
وَهَجيرَةٍ كَلَّفتُ طَيَّ مَقيلِها
ظُهراًat noon وَقَدwhile already طَلَبَsought الكَنيسُthe lairing wild beast مَقيلاa midday resting-place
ظُهراً وَقَد طَلَبَ الكَنيسُ مَقيلا
And through many a midday blaze I bade them cross its resting-ground,
An old rooster whose saddle I loaded
at noon, when the lairing beast had sought a place to rest:
Its back, though a pulpit sought such a perch
قوداًlong-necked نَواجِيَswift she-camels فَالحَنِيِّand bow-like (reading unclear) ضَوامِراًlean
قوداً نَواجِيَ فَالحَنِيِّ ضَوامِراً
تَرَكَتleft عَرائِكَهاtheir humps المَهامِهُthe wastelands ميلاleaning
تَرَكَت عَرائِكَها المَهامِهُ ميلا
long-necked, swift mounts, and lean as bows—
Driving plump sheep and the cattle of Hanī
the wastelands had left their humps leaning.
Who left their she-camels roaming at will
وَدُجُنَّةٌand a pitch-dark night ضَمَّنتُI entrusted هَتكَthe rending سُتورِهاof its veils
وَدُجُنَّةٌ ضَمَّنتُ هَتكَ سُتورِها
وَجناءَa broad-cheeked she-camel صامِتَةَsilent البُغامِin her lowing ذَلولاdocile
وَجناءَ صامِتَةَ البُغامِ ذَلولا
And through a pitch-dark night I entrusted her with rending its veils—
A hen who disclosed her shame to me
a broad-cheeked, silent-voiced, docile she-camel.
And a silent nesting pigeon, calm and docile
حَتّىuntil إِذاwhen الفَجرُdawn اِستَضاءَgrew bright أَنَختُهاI made her kneel
حَتّى إِذا الفَجرُ اِستَضاءَ أَنَختُها
لِأَذوقَso I might taste نَوماًsleep أَوor أُصيبَI obtain مَليلاash-baked bread
لِأَذوقَ نَوماً أَو أُصيبَ مَليلا
Until, when dawn grew bright, I made her kneel
Until dawn kindled its fire and I stirred her
to taste sleep or obtain some ash-baked bread.
To taste sleep or get a little rest
وَاللَيلُand night قَدalready رَفَعَhad raised الذُيولَthe skirts مُواشِكاًhastening
وَاللَيلُ قَد رَفَعَ الذُيولَ مُواشِكاً
بِرَحيلِهِwith its departure سُلطانَهُits dominion لِيَزولاso it might vanish
بِرَحيلِهِ سُلطانَهُ لِيَزولا
And night had gathered up its skirts, hastening
Night hoisting the hem of its cloak about to withdraw
to depart, so that its dominion might vanish.
Its rule vanishing in departure
حَمَّلتُI loaded ثِقلَthe burden الهَمِّof care فَاِنبَعَثَتand set forth بِهِwith it
حَمَّلتُ ثِقلَ الهَمِّ فَاِنبَعَثَت بِهِ
نَفسيmy soul وَناجِيَةَand a swift she-camel السِفارِof journeys ذَمولاlightly trotting
نَفسي وَناجِيَةَ السِفارِ ذَمولا
I laid on the burden of care, and with it set forth
I shouldered sorrow's burden and so roused myself
my soul and a swift-traveling she-camel, lightly trotting,
And my comrade, the staunch night-farer
حَرفاًa lean, hardy she-camel إِذاwhen وَنَتِflag العِتاقُthe thoroughbreds تَزَيَّدَتshe increases
حَرفاً إِذا وَنَتِ العِتاقُ تَزَيَّدَت
فيin سَيرِهاher pace التَنعيبَthe neck-stretched trot وَالتَبغيلاand the mule-like gait
في سَيرِها التَنعيبَ وَالتَبغيلا
a lean, hardy one who, when thoroughbreds flag, increases
When the caravan trembled, the howdah swayed
in her pace, her neck-stretched trot and mule-like gait.
Its swaying increased and accused the camel
تَرميshe casts المَهامِهَthe wastelands وَالقَطيعَand the herd بِطَرفِهاwith her glance
تَرمي المَهامِهَ وَالقَطيعَ بِطَرفِها
شَزراًaskance كَأَنَّas though بِعَينِهاin her eye تَحويلاa squint
شَزراً كَأَنَّ بِعَينِها تَحويلا
She casts her glance at the wastelands and the herd,
With an eye flick she pelts camels and flock alike
askance, as though her eye were turned awry.
With sparks, as if her glances overwhelmed them
لَوif أَنَّthat قَوماًa people يُخلَقونَare created مَنِيَّةًdeath
لَو أَنَّ قَوماً يُخلَقونَ مَنِيَّةً
مِنfrom بَأسِهِمtheir martial might كانواthey would be بَنيthe sons of جِبريلاJibril
مِن بَأسِهِم كانوا بَني جِبريلا
If a people were created as death itself
If only a folk were created of the essence
from their martial might, they would be the sons of Jibril.
Of their valor, the sons of Gabriel they'd be
قَومٌa people إِذاwhen حَمِىَgrew hot الهَجيرُthe noonday heat مِنَfrom الوَغىbattle's clamor
قَومٌ إِذا حَمِىَ الهَجيرُ مِنَ الوَغى
جَعَلواmake الجَماجِمَthe skulls لِلسُيوفِfor the swords مَقيلاa noonday resting-place
جَعَلوا الجَماجِمَ لِلسُيوفِ مَقيلا
A people who, when battle's noonday heat blazes,
A people when the rooster blazed in battle
make skulls a noonday resting-place for swords,
Made skulls the mangers of their swords
إِذwhen لاno حِمىshelter إِلّاexcept الرِماحُthe spears وَبَينَهاand among them
إِذ لا حِمى إِلّا الرِماحُ وَبَينَها
خَيلٌhorses يَطَأنَtrample بِقاتِلٍwith a killer مَقتولاa slain man
خَيلٌ يَطَأنَ بِقاتِلٍ مَقتولا
when there is no shelter but the spears, and among them
For no sanctuary exists but spears
horses, bearing killers, trample the slain.
And amidst them horses, ridden by killer and killed
وَلَقَدand indeed وَقَعنَthey struck بِأَرضِin the land of كابُلَKabul وَقعَةًa blow
وَلَقَد وَقَعنَ بِأَرضِ كابُلَ وَقعَةً
تَرَكَتleft إِلَيهاinto it لِلغُزاةِfor the raiders سَبيلاa way
تَرَكَت إِلَيها لِلغُزاةِ سَبيلا
And indeed they struck a blow in the land of Kabul
Indeed we met at the land of Kabul in a fray
that left a way into it for the raiders.
That left the invaders open to attack
Claude 2 is inferred from the historical translator configuration. The original record does not identify its model.