رَأىsaw فَرَسيmy horse إِسطَبلَthe stable of موسىMusa فَقالَthen he said ليto me
رَأى فَرَسي إِسطَبلَ موسى فَقالَ لي
قِفاhalt, you two نَبكِlet us weep مِنover ذِكرىthe memory of حَبيبٍa beloved وَمَنزِلِand a dwelling
قِفا نَبكِ مِن ذِكرى حَبيبٍ وَمَنزِلِ
My horse saw Musa's stable and said to me:
Halt, you two; let us weep over the memory of a beloved and a dwelling.
بِهِin it لَمdid not أَذُقI taste طَعمَthe taste of الشَعيرِbarley كَأَنَّنيas though I were
بِهِ لَم أَذُق طَعمَ الشَعيرِ كَأَنَّني
بِسِقطِat the edge of اللِوىthe winding sands بَينَbetween الدُخولِal-Dukhul فَحَومَلِand Hawmal
بِسِقطِ اللِوى بَينَ الدُخولِ فَحَومَلِ
There I have not tasted barley, as though I were
At the edge of the winding sands, between al-Dukhul and Hawmal.
تُقَعقِعُrattle مِنfrom بَردِthe cold of الشِتاءِwinter أَضالِعيmy ribs
تُقَعقِعُ مِن بَردِ الشِتاءِ أَضالِعي
لِماbecause of what نَسَجَتهاhas woven over them مِنof جَنوبٍa south wind وَشَمأَلِand a north wind
لِما نَسَجَتها مِن جَنوبٍ وَشَمأَلِ
My ribs rattle from winter's cold,
Because of the south and north winds that have woven over them.
إِذاwhen سَمِعَhear السُوّاسُthe grooms صَوتَthe sound of تَحَمحُميmy whinnying
إِذا سَمِعَ السُوّاسُ صَوتَ تَحَمحُمي
يَقولونَthey say لاdo not تَهلِكperish أَسىًfrom grief وَتَجَمُّلِand bear up
يَقولونَ لا تَهلِك أَسىً وَتَجَمُّلِ
When the grooms hear the sound of my whinnying,
They say, 'Do not perish of grief, and bear up.'
أُعَوِّلُI rely فيat وَقتِthe time of العَليقِfodder عَليهِمُon them
أُعَوِّلُ في وَقتِ العَليقِ عَليهِمُ
وَهَلand is there عِندَat رَسمٍa trace دارِسٍeffaced مِنany مُعَوَّلِrecourse
وَهَل عِندَ رَسمٍ دارِسٍ مِن مُعَوَّلِ
I rely on them when it is time for fodder—
Yet is there anything to rely on at an effaced trace?