تُروي لَأَزغَبَ صَيفِيٍّ بِمَهلَكَةٍ

تُروي لَأَزغَبَ صَيفِيٍّ بِمَهلَكَةٍ

إِذا تَكَمَّشَ أَولادُ القَطا خَذَلا

إِذا تَكَمَّشَ أَولادُ القَطا خَذَلا

She brings water for a downy, summer-hatched chick in a deadly waste,

She waters an August parched with calamity,

when the young sandgrouse huddle, left helpless.

When the wildcats' cubs are left helpless.

تَنوشُ مِن صُوَّةِ الأَنهارِ يُطعِمُهُ

تَنوشُ مِن صُوَّةِ الأَنهارِ يُطعِمُهُ

مِنَ التَهاويلِ وَالزُبّادِ ما أَكَلا

مِنَ التَهاويلِ وَالزُبّادِ ما أَكَلا

She gathers from the rivers’ stony rise to feed him

She drinks from the pouring of the rivers, feeding him

what he eats of bright blossoms and zubbād herbage.

On fish and crabs he has never tasted.

تَضُمُّهُ لِجناحَيها وَجُؤجُؤِها

تَضُمُّهُ لِجناحَيها وَجُؤجُؤِها

ضَمَّ الفَتاةِ الصَبِيِّ المُغيِلَ الصَغِلا

ضَمَّ الفَتاةِ الصَبِيِّ المُغيِلَ الصَغِلا

She clasps him to her wings and breast,

She cradles him to her wings and breast

as a young woman clasps a puny child nursed during her pregnancy.

As a girl cradles her drowsy baby brother.

تَستَورِدُ السِرَّ أَحياناً إِذا ظَمِئَت

تَستَورِدُ السِرَّ أَحياناً إِذا ظَمِئَت

وَالضَحلَ أَسفَلَ مِن جَرزانِهِ الغَلَلا

وَالضَحلَ أَسفَلَ مِن جَرزانِهِ الغَلَلا

She sometimes seeks the valley’s hollow for water when thirsty,

She secretly imports the secret, when thirsty,

and the shallow, trickling water below its rocky banks.

And the shallows beneath her talons are darkened.

مُوَلَّعٌ بِسَوادٍ في أَسافِلِهِ

مُوَلَّعٌ بِسَوادٍ في أَسافِلِهِ

مِنهُ اِحتَذى وَبِلونٍ مَثلِهِ اِكتَحَلا

مِنهُ اِحتَذى وَبِلونٍ مَثلِهِ اِكتَحَلا

He is mottled with black on his lower parts;

Dotted about below with blackness

with it he shod himself, and with a matching hue he lined his eyes.

From which he copied the color and lined his eyes.