Language
Arabic proverbs
2527 proverbs · 6 reviewed comparisons
Every proverb and comparison listed here passed ProverbHub’s review. How we review
Proverbs
Every proverb in this language, a page at a time.
«كُونْ فِي أَوِّلِ السُّوقْ يَا جُحَا وَلَوْ بِقَصِّ اللِّحَى»
Get to the market first, Juha, even if it costs you your beard.
The saying urges a person to arrive before everyone else when goods or chances first become available, since the earliest comer can pick the finest items while rivals have not yet seen them. Getting there first is presented as worth almost any inconvenience.
«قَلْبِي عَلَى وِلْدِي انْفَطَرْ وِقَلْبْ وِلْدِي عَلَيَّ حَجَرْ»
My heart breaks over my own flesh and blood, while theirs toward me is hard as stone.
This saying gives voice to how intensely parents feel for their offspring, whether one child or several. The parent's heart is pictured as split or cracked open, an image far stronger than ordinary worry, suggesting compassion so deep that it seems to wound the very person who carries it.
«اِلْعَطْشَانْ يِكَسَّرِ الْحُوضْ»
A man dying of thirst will break the trough to get at the water.
The picture is of someone parched for water who, straining to reach a drink, forcefully smashes the vessel that holds it, whether basin, trough, or cistern. The breakage is not an act of spite. It is the side effect of a craving too strong to be handled with care.
«اِلْعُزُوبِيَّهْ وَلَا الْجَوَازَهْ الْعِرَّهْ»
Better to stay single than to marry into disgrace.
Remaining unmarried is presented as preferable to entering a marriage that disgraces whoever is bound to it. The point is not mere bad luck or discomfort: being alone has its costs, but a shameful union stains a person's standing far more deeply and lastingly.
«كُلْ دِينْ وِاشْرَبْ دِينْ وِانْ جَهْ صَاحِبِ الْحَق خَزَّقْ لُهْ عِينْ»
Eat on credit, drink on credit, and if the creditor turns up, put his eye out.
In imperative form, the saying urges complete unconcern with the affairs of this world. It pictures someone taking food and drink on credit and, when the creditor comes to claim what is owed, putting out his eye instead of worrying about the debt.
«بِيضِتْهَا أَحْسَنْ مِنْ لِيلِتْهَا»
The egg she lays is worth more than the night she is killed for.
A modest benefit that continues over time is preferable to a larger gain that is obtained once and then disappears. The saying contrasts keeping a productive hen for its eggs with slaughtering it for a single meal.
«زَي سَلَامِ الْمَوَارْدِي عَلَى الْفَسَخَانِي»
As grudging as a perfume seller's hello to a man who sells salted fish.
The image sets a seller of rosewater and perfumes beside a seller of fesikh, a pungent salted fish. The perfumer still offers a greeting, but only as much as courtesy strictly demands, keeping his distance and leaving as soon as he can.
«قَالُوا لِلدِّيبْ: حَ يْسَرَّحُوكْ فِي الْغَنَمْ، قَامْ عَيَّطْ. قَالُوا: دَا شِيءْ تِحِبُّهْ؟ قَالْ: خَايِفْ يُكُونِ الْخَبَرْ كِدْبْ»
The proverb sketches an appetite so strong that even the promise of satisfying it brings distress. The wolf weeps not from sorrow but from fear that the delightful report, free run of the sheep, might turn out to be false.
«مِنْ تِعِبِ ارْتَاحْ»
Those who toil first get to rest afterward.
The saying presents ease as the outcome of earlier exertion. Its two past-tense verbs state a general rule rather than report one event: whoever takes the trouble to put their matters in order, accepting hardship and effort, later enjoys calm and relief because that work is done.
«زَيِّ كْلَابِ السِّكَّهْ يُعُضُّوا عَ الْمَاشِي»
Like street dogs, they bite in passing without a second thought.
The saying portrays a person for whom causing harm is second nature. Like stray dogs that snap at whatever crosses their path, such a person wounds others almost automatically, without planning it or needing any special reason to do so.
«زَيِّ الْكِلَابْ، لَمَّا يْفَتَّحُوا يِنْبَحُوا»
Just like puppies: the moment their eyes open, they start barking.
The image rests on newborn puppies, which begin barking almost as soon as they open. The saying does not name what opens; reading it as their eyes follows the traditional explanation. Barking becomes their first act, so the noise seems part of their nature from the start.
«إِنْتَ نَبِي وَالَّا كَوَالِينِي»
Are you a prophet, or are you a locksmith?
This saying rebukes a person for stepping into an affair that does not belong to them. Its sharp contrast between two different occupations underscores the impropriety of inserting oneself into another person’s work.
«كُلْ مَا يِعْجِبَكْ وِالْبِسْ مَا يِعْجِبِ النَّاسْ»
Let your own appetite guide what you eat, but choose your clothes to please others.
The saying sets two spheres of choice side by side. Food is treated as a matter of personal appetite, what the self desires, and is not presented as a general endorsement of indulgence. Clothing, by contrast, is a matter of display, meant to please the people who see it.
«قَالُوا لِلْكَاتِبِ: اسْتِرَيَّحْ. قَامْ وِقِفْ»
They told the scribe to take a rest, so he stood up.
The scribe here is a stock figure for someone whose work keeps him seated, bent over a desk all day, so when he is told to take a break, the natural thing for him is to get up on his feet. Standing, which wears out most people, is exactly what refreshes him.
«لَا أَلْفْ لِي وَلَا أَلْفْ لَكْ»
I don't have a thousand, and neither do you.
The saying punctures a pretense that two people share. Each of them likes to boast of riches or advantages he does not really possess, and each knows the other's claims are as hollow as his own. Naming a missing thousand on both sides, its unit left unstated though money is the natural reading, admits neither has anything to show off.
«اِلْكِرْشَهْ عَنْدِ الْمِقِلِّينْ زَفَرْ»
To the poor, even tripe is a meat feast.
The saying observes that worth is judged relative to one's circumstances. A person who rarely has meat will treat tripe, a cheap and humble cut, as though it were zafar: a proper feast of meat and rich, ghee-cooked fare, not the classical sense of sighing. Scarcity makes ordinary or inferior things look precious.
«مَا تِسْتَكْتَرْشِ الرَّفْصْ عَلَى الْبَغْلِ النِّجِسْ»
Don't be surprised when a treacherous mule kicks; that's the least it will do.
Here نجس describes not an impure animal but a cunning mule prone to bolting, one that can throw its rider and even kill him, so a mere kick (الرفص, colloquial for رفس) is the gentlest trouble it can cause. The proverb asks the listener not to treat that small offense as excessive or unexpected.
«اِلعَادِمْ يِنْطَب وِالْمَالِحْ يِنْكَب»
Food short on salt can still be fixed; food with too much salt gets thrown out.
In its plain sense, the saying compares two kitchen mistakes. A bland dish with too little salt can be treated and remedied with a bit more, but a dish that has been oversalted cannot be corrected and ends up poured out and discarded.
«مِنْ نَصَحْ جَاهِلْ عَادَاهْ»
Give advice to a fool and you gain an enemy.
The saying warns that guidance offered to an ignorant or foolish person rarely brings thanks. Such a person tends to take correction as an insult, so the well-meaning adviser ends up with resentment and hostility instead of gratitude.
«لَا تَمْدَحْ يُومَكْ إِلَّا بَعْدِ مَا يْفُوتْ»
Don't call your day a good one until it has come to an end.
The saying warns against declaring your own day good while it is still in progress, before it has passed. Whatever has gone well so far, the remaining hours could still bring trouble, so any verdict on the day is incomplete until it has actually ended.
«يَا وِيلْ مِنْ دَخَلِ الْأَذَى جَسَدُهْ»
Pity anyone whose body an incurable disease has seized.
The saying grieves for anyone whose body has been taken over by a disease that will not go away. Here the word usually meaning 'harm' names a chronic, incurable illness rather than a general hurt or injury. The sufferer cannot expect to recover and must simply live with it.
«اِللِّي يِحِبِّ الْكَمُّونْ يِتْمَرَّغْ فِي ترَابُهْ»
Anyone who loves cumin will willingly roll in the dirt around it.
Deep attachment to a desired thing can make burdensome or degrading conditions seem easier to accept. What matters greatly to someone may lead them to tolerate effort, discomfort, or loss of dignity.
«الْجَمَالْ فِي الصَّغَرْ حتَّى فِي الْبَقَرْ»
Being young brings beauty, even to cattle.
The saying credits youth itself with a special charm and appeal. Whatever is in its early years gains a grace that comes from its stage of life, not from its kind or its usual standing in people's eyes.
«اِللِّي يِتْوِلِدْ فِي الْحَيِّ مَا يْضِعْشْ»
A person raised among their own people will not be left without support.
The saying figuratively expresses confidence that someone born within a close local circle has roots, relatives, and familiar ties to rely on. Belonging to a known community is presented as protection against being neglected or left helpless, rather than as a matter of literally finding one’s way.
«صَبْرِي عَلَى خِلِّي وَلَا عَدَمُهْ»
Better to bear a friend's faults than to lose him.
The saying holds that it is better to put up with a friend's shortcomings and irritating habits than to be left with no friend at all. The speaker accepts an imperfect companion as the price of keeping company.
«بِتَاعِ النَّاسْ كَنَّاسْ»
Ill-gotten property sweeps everything away.
Property acquired through wrongdoing is portrayed as destructive rather than beneficial. Rather than bringing lasting gain, it is expected to disappear and carry away other possessions with it; this is a moral warning, not a literal prediction.
«اِللِّي مَا تِقْدَرْ عَلِيهْ فَارْقُهْ وَإِلَّا بُوسْ إِيدُهْ»
If you cannot stand up to someone, walk away—or submit to their authority.
The proverb sets out a blunt, practical choice for someone facing a person whose strength is beyond their own. It offers two courses: break away from that person completely, or show open deference, pictured as kissing their hand in a gesture of submission.
«إِنْ تَفِّيتْ لِفُوقْ جَتْ عَلَى وِشِّي وَإِنْ تَفِّيتْ لِتَحْتْ جَتْ عَلَى حِجْرِي»
Whether I spit up or down, I am the one who gets splashed.
The saying describes a bind in which a hostile response rebounds on the person who makes it. The intended target cannot be harmed without bringing disgrace, injury, or other unwanted consequences back upon oneself.
«فِي الْأَكْلْ سُوسَهْ، وِفِي الْحَاجَهْ مَتْعُوسَهْ»
She gnaws through food like a weevil, but when there's a job to do she's hopeless.
The saying sets two scenes side by side. At the table the person is like a weevil, steadily gnawing through the food; the image concerns consumption, not looks. Once there is something to fetch, fix or attend to, she becomes inept and sluggish. Her appetite is quick, but her usefulness is close to nothing.
«مِنْ قِلِّةْ عَقْلِكْ يَا زُهْرَهْ خَلِّيتِي لِكْ فِي الْبَلَدْ شُهْرَهْ»
It was your own foolishness, Zuhra, that made you the talk of the town.
The proverb is addressed to Zuhra, a woman's name chosen to rhyme with the word for reputation; she stands for any careless person rather than an identified individual. It blames a scandalous name, notoriety rather than fame, on the one who bears it: modest flaws were dragged into the open by careless conduct until the town whispered.
«كُل حَي يِلْبِسْ مِنْ سَنْدُوقُهْ»
Everyone dresses out of the trunk they own.
A person can only show the world what they actually possess within. The chest (sandūq) is a clothing trunk: just as someone can only put on clothes already kept in their own chest, their conduct, speech and bearing draw on their inner character, so outward behaviour is taken as a sign of what lies inside.
«عَاشِرْ عَاشِرْ مِسِيرَكْ تِفَارِقْ»
Stay together as long as you like; in the end you will go separate ways.
However many years people share and however close they grow, the saying holds that a parting waits for them at the end. Time together can delay that separation, but it cannot remove it from the course of things.
«اِلْوِحْدَه عْبَادَهْ»
Being on your own is a form of devotion.
The saying places solitude on the same footing as worship, so that being alone is credited with the kind of merit normally reserved for acts of devotion. It makes this claim directly, with no qualification attached.
«اِللِّي يْقَدِّمْ قَفَاهْ لِلسَّكِّ يِنْسَك»
Hold out your neck for a smack, and a smack is what you'll get.
The image is a simple one: a person turns the nape toward someone who might strike it, and the blow duly lands there. The slap on the back of the neck stands in for being humiliated or treated with indignity.
«زَي سُلْطَانِيِّةِ الْمِش كُلِّ سَاعَهْ فِي الْوِش»
Like the dish of old cheese, he's in front of your face every hour of the day.
The saying describes someone you would rather not see who is nonetheless always around. Just as a bowl of aged, long-stored cheese sits before diners at nearly every meal, this person is constantly in plain view, not confronting you but simply always before your eyes, until the familiarity itself becomes wearisome.
«هَاتْ عِمِّتَكْ وِيُومِ الْقِيَامَهْ خُدْهَا»
Give me your turban now; you can have it back on Judgment Day.
The saying mocks a person who takes a loan or borrows an object and keeps putting off its return. The turban stands for any borrowed item or unpaid debt. Postponing repayment until the Last Day means postponing it forever, so the lender should expect nothing back in this life.
«حَلْفَةْ وِيْحَاشِرِ النَّارْ»
Like tinder-dry grass shoving its way into the flames.
The image is of halfa, an esparto-type grass that is dry and quick to catch, actively forcing its way into a fire. A mere spark would consume it, so its eagerness to get close is self-destructive. The saying mocks anything fragile that rushes toward the very thing certain to destroy it.
«عُيُوبِي لَا أَرَاهَا وِعْيُوبِ النَّاسْ أَجْرِي وَرَاهَا»
I can't see my own faults, yet I go chasing after everyone else's.
The saying captures a common human failing: a person stays blind to their own shortcomings while eagerly hunting down and dwelling on the faults of everyone around them. It exposes the double standard of a critic who never turns that same harsh gaze inward.
«لَا تْخَلِّي نَدَى الْوَرْدِ يْفُوتَكْ وَلَا طَل بَابَهْ يِنْزِلْ عَلِيكْ»
Don't miss the morning dew of rose time, but don't let Baba's cold night dew settle on you.
The saying gives advice tied to the seasons. In the rose season, around the Coptic month of Tut at the end of summer, one should go out early and enjoy the cool, fragrant morning air. Tut and Baba are Coptic months that do not align neatly with Gregorian ones. The welcome morning dew is a benefit too good to miss.
«هِيَّ تِحْلِبِ الَّا لَمَّا يْكُونْ لَهَا بَو؟»
Would that cow ever let down her milk without a calf-skin to coax her?
The image comes from dairy herding. A cow often withholds her milk unless reminded of her calf, so herders kept a calf's hide stuffed with straw nearby, not a living calf, to coax the flow. The rhetorical question expects the answer no: she would not yield milk without that prop.
«اِللِّي مَا لُوشْ غَرَضْ يِعْجِنْ يُقْعُدْ سِتَّ ايَّامْ يِنْخُلْ»
Someone who does not truly mean to get the job done will keep dragging out the preliminaries.
The saying criticizes deliberate procrastination. A person who lacks a real intention to complete a task can make its preparation stretch on indefinitely, as in lingering over flour-sifting before kneading, and turn minor preliminary steps into excuses for delay.
«سِكِّةِ الصُّغَارْ دَيَّقَهْ»
A road laid out by small minds is too tight for a sensible person to pass.
The saying pictures a lane, meaning a road or way rather than a coin, laid out to the measure of 'little ones': the young and those of immature or weak judgment. It is too cramped for anyone of full stature to pass. The image stands for any undertaking shaped by shallow thinking, leaving no space for sound judgment.
«اِلزِّبْدَهْ مَا تِطْلَعْشِ إِلَّا بِالْخَض»
You only get butter if you churn the milk.
The saying draws on a familiar household task: milk yields butter only after it has been shaken or beaten for a long while. The image makes the point that the valuable part of something stays hidden until someone puts in steady physical effort.
«نِشْفِتِ الْبِرْكَهْ وِبَانِتْ زَقَازِيقْهَا»
When the pond runs dry, its tiny fry are laid bare.
Once the covering that kept something out of sight is gone, whatever lay underneath can no longer stay concealed. The image is of water draining from a pool until the tiny fish living in it are exposed on the muddy bottom for anyone to see.
«اِلْعَرَبِ الرَّحَّالَهْ تِعْرَفْ طَرِيقِ الْمَيَّهْ»
Those who roam the desert know the way to water.
Roaming desert folk, the Bedouin, whose lives are spent on the move, learn through constant necessity exactly where water can be found; the image concerns this way of life, not Arabs as a nation. The saying uses it to claim that steady, practical involvement in any activity gives a person command over details that remain obscure to others.
«قَالُوا لِحَرَامِي الدِّقِيقْ: اِحْلِفْ. قَالْ: يَا مَرَه انْخُلِي»
A man suspected of stealing flour is asked to swear he is innocent. Rather than taking the oath, he turns to his wife and tells her to start sifting. That everyday instruction shows the flour is already in his house, so he confesses without saying so.
«عَلَى مَا يِجي التِّرْيَاقْ مِنِ الْعِرَاقْ يُكُونِ الْعَلِيلْ مَاتْ»
By the time the cure gets here from far away, the patient will already be dead.
The saying warns that help which depends on a distant, slow source may arrive only after it has stopped being useful. A remedy, however effective, is worthless if the person who needed it has already died while waiting for it to make the long journey.
«قَصْقَصْ رِيشْ طِيرَكْ دَنُّهْ حَوْلَكْ، طَوِّلُه يْرُوحْ لِغِيرَكْ»
The proverb voices a historical attitude of guardedness toward people who depend on you, especially servants and similar subordinates. It holds that keeping them limited in means or freedom keeps them loyal and nearby, while indulging them too generously invites them to drift away to another master. This reflects the speaker's outlook, not neutral advice.
«مِنْ قِلِّةِ الْبَخْتْ عَمَلُوا الَاعْوَرْ قَيِّدَهْ»
As if our luck weren't bad enough, they've put the one-eyed camel at the head of the line.
The saying laments that leadership has gone to someone unfit for it. The key word names the camel at the front of a caravan line, and by extension a chief, not a tie or shackle. Putting a half-blind animal in that spot dooms everyone behind it, so the image stands for misplaced authority.
«عَدَاوْةِ الْأَقَارِبْ زَيِّ لَسْعِ الْعَقَارِبْ»
When your own family turns on you, it stings like a scorpion.
Enmity from one's own relatives is portrayed here as uniquely harsh. When kin set themselves against someone, the harm they do outweighs what an ordinary adversary could cause, so a quarrel with family carries a weight that disputes with others do not.