I had previously translated the first 6 lines of the famous pre-Islamic Arab poet Imr al-Qays‘ fabulous description of a rainstorm. I present here the rest of the description, once again in my own translation (rhymed pentameter couplet), followed by the original Arabic.
And at Tayma’ no branch was left alone,
Nor any fort, save those shored up with stone.
See Mount Thabir when first the rain comes down:
A chief of people, wrapped in fine striped gown!
At dawn, the scum and water ‘round this hill,
Mujaymir, look just like a spinning wheel.
O’er parched Ghabit it cast its verdant cloak,
Like dazzling wares strewn out by pedlar-folk.
At dawn the whistling birds now sing with zest
As if they have drunk peppered wine, fresh-pressed.
By afternoon, you see drowned beasts galore,
Like soil-stained onions floating near the shore.
وَتَيْمَاءَ لَمْ يَتْرُكْ بِهَا جِذْعَ نَخْلَـةٍ ** وَلاَ أُطُمـاً إِلاَّ مَشِيْداً بِجِنْـدَلِ
كَأَنَّ ثَبِيْـراً فِي عَرَانِيْـنِ وَبْلِـهِ ** كَبِيْـرُ أُنَاسٍ فِي بِجَـادٍ مُزَمَّـلِ
كَأَنَّ ذُرَى رَأْسِ المُجَيْمِرِ غُـدْوَةً ** مِنَ السَّيْلِ وَالأَغثَاءِ فَلْكَةُ مِغْـزَلِ
وأَلْقَى بِصَحْـرَاءِ الغَبيْطِ بَعَاعَـهُ ** نُزُوْلَ اليَمَانِي ذِي العِيَابِ المُحَمَّلِ
كَأَنَّ مَكَـاكِيَّ الجِـوَاءِ غُدَّبَـةً ** صُبِحْنَ سُلافاً مِنْ رَحيقٍ مُفَلْفَـلِ
كَأَنَّ السِّبَـاعَ فِيْهِ غَرْقَى عَشِيَّـةً ** بِأَرْجَائِهِ القُصْوَى أَنَابِيْشُ عُنْصُـلِ
Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay
Suheil Laher : Language and Literature Blog 