إِذا المَرءُ لَم يَبعَث سَواماً وَلَم يُرَح

إِذا المَرءُ لَم يَبعَث سَواماً وَلَم يُرَح

عَلَيهِ وَلَم تَعطِف عَلَيهِ أَقارِبُه

عَلَيهِ وَلَم تَعطِف عَلَيهِ أَقارِبُه

If a man sends no herds to pasture, and none are brought home

If a man does not send forth people to wail for him,

to him, and his relatives show him no compassion,

And no one grieves for him or shows him sympathy,

فَلَلمَوتُ خَيرٌ لِلفَتى مِن حَياتِهِ

فَلَلمَوتُ خَيرٌ لِلفَتى مِن حَياتِهِ

فَقيراً وَمِن مَولىً تَدِبُّ عَقارِبُه

فَقيراً وَمِن مَولىً تَدِبُّ عَقارِبُه

then surely death is better for a young man than his life

Then death is better for the youth than his life,

in poverty, and better than a kinsman whose scorpions creep.

As a pauper with stinging scorpions for his kin.

وَسائِلَةٍ أَينَ الرَحيلُ وَسائِلٍ

وَسائِلَةٍ أَينَ الرَحيلُ وَسائِلٍ

وَمَن يَسأَلُ الصُعلوكَ أَينَ مَذاهِبُه

وَمَن يَسأَلُ الصُعلوكَ أَينَ مَذاهِبُه

And a woman asks, “Where are you bound?”—and a man asks;

"Where are you going?" they ask, and "Where are you headed?"

and who would ask the destitute wanderer where his paths lie?

Who asks a vagabond where are his haunts?

مَذاهِبُهُ أَنَّ الفِجاجَ عَريضَةٌ

مَذاهِبُهُ أَنَّ الفِجاجَ عَريضَةٌ

إِذا ضَنَّ عَنهُ بِالفَعالِ أَقارِبُه

إِذا ضَنَّ عَنهُ بِالفَعالِ أَقارِبُه

His paths? The mountain passes are wide,

His haunts are that the wilderness is spacious

if his relatives begrudge him their kindness.

When his own people are stingy towards him with deeds.

فَلا أَترُكُ الإِخوانَ ما عُشتُ لِلرَدى

فَلا أَترُكُ الإِخوانَ ما عُشتُ لِلرَدى

كَما أَنَّهُ لا يَترُكُ الماءُ شارِبُه

كَما أَنَّهُ لا يَترُكُ الماءُ شارِبُه

So I will not abandon my companions to death as long as I live,

So I will not forsake the brothers as long as I live,

just as water never abandons its drinker.

Just as water never forsakes the one who drinks it.

وَلا يُستَضامُ الدَهرَ جاري وَلا أُرى

وَلا يُستَضامُ الدَهرَ جاري وَلا أُرى

كَمَن باتَ تَسري لِلصَديقِ عَقارِبُه

كَمَن باتَ تَسري لِلصَديقِ عَقارِبُه

My neighbor shall never be wronged, nor shall I be seen

And time is not to be blamed for flowing on,

like one whose scorpions creep toward a friend by night.

Just as I do not see the scorpion's sting against a friend at night.

وَإِن جارَتي أَلوَت رِياحٌ بِبَيتِها

وَإِن جارَتي أَلوَت رِياحٌ بِبَيتِها

تَغافَلتُ حَتّى يَستُرَ البَيتَ جانِبُه

تَغافَلتُ حَتّى يَستُرَ البَيتَ جانِبُه

And if winds sweep aside my female neighbor’s tent,

And if a wind makes my neighbor's house lean over,

I pretend not to notice until its side screens the tent.

I pretend not to notice until the house hides its side.