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.
«غَالِي السُّوقْ وَلَا رْخِيصِ الْبِيتْ»
The saying observes that people prize what they still have to buy over what they already own. Something kept at home counts as cheap because it is already in hand and costs nothing more, not because it is poorer in quality. It loses its appeal simply for being theirs, while a pricey market item looks more tempting.
«طُولْةِ الْبَالْ تِهِدِّ الْجِبَالْ»
The saying claims that طولة البال, an idiom for patience and forbearance rather than a literal 'length of mind', is strong enough to bring down even the largest obstacles. The mountains are figurative: what seems immovable eventually yields to someone who keeps a level head and refuses to rush or panic.
«اِلْعِيشْ إِنِ اتْفَتِّشْ مَا يِتَّاكِلْشْ»
Pick at your bread too closely and you'll never eat it.
Almost anything, picked apart closely enough, will reveal some small blemish that spoils one's appetite for it. Here ʿēsh means bread, not 'life' as elsewhere: a loaf probed crumb by crumb may show a speck that makes it seem inedible, though it would have nourished you.
«اِلْعَجَلَهْ مِنِ الشِّيطَانْ»
The saying condemns haste by associating it with Satan. It presents impulsive action as blameworthy and urges people to pause before acting.
«زَي كَلْبِ الدَّخَاخْنِي أَعْوَرْ وِكَيِّيفْ»
Like the tobacconist's dog: blind in one eye, yet fancying himself a man of refined indulgences.
The saying ridicules a person who is lowly and physically marred yet behaves like a refined sensualist with delicate moods. The image is a scruffy one-eyed dog in a tobacco shop; one possible, unconfirmed reading links its lost eye to the shop's smoke. Kayyif implies both habitual indulgence in tobacco or similar pleasures and fussy, cultivated taste.
«لَمَّا تِتْخَانِقِ الْحَرَامِيَّه يبَانِ الْمَسْرُوقْ»
Once the thieves start fighting, the loot comes to light.
People who share a guilty secret keep it hidden only as long as they stay on good terms. When a dispute breaks out among them, each begins pointing at the others, and in the process the wrongdoing they covered up together is brought into the open.
«اِللِّي عَاوِزْ تِحَيَّرُهْ خَيَّرُهْ»
If you want to make someone uncertain, offer them options.
Being asked to choose between alternatives may leave a person unable to settle on one. The proverb points to the hesitation and confusion that can arise when several possible courses are placed before someone.
«مِينْ يِقْدَرْ يُقُولْ: يَا غُولَهْ عِينِكْ حَمْرَهْ؟»
Who would ever tell the ghoul that its eye is red?
Framed as a question whose expected answer is 'no one,' the saying imagines a person speaking directly to a ghoul, the predatory, fearsome monster of Arabic folklore, and remarking on its red eye. Taken at face value, it holds that such words are simply not said to a creature of that kind.
«غِنَى الْمَرْءْ فِي الْغُرْبَهْ وَطَنْ»
With money, a person is at home even far from home.
The proverb claims that riches can take the place of a native land. Someone with ample resources who lives among strangers still enjoys the security, comfort and standing usually tied to home, so being far from where they were born weighs on them only lightly.
«يُغُورِ الْفَلَّاحْ بِزْيَارْتُهْ وِحْمَارْتُهْ»
Away with the farmer, his visiting gift and his donkey too.
The image is a farmer who calls with a present, but his donkey grazes on the host's food and fouls the yard. The loss far exceeds the gift, so the host bluntly wishes him gone, visit, present and all. The opening is a rude dismissal, not a neutral farewell.
«فِي الْوِشِّ مْرَايَهْ وِفِي الْقَفَا سِلَّايَهْ»
A mirror to your face, a thorn in your back.
The saying exposes the hypocrite who, when facing you, becomes your flattering echo, nodding along and mirroring your views. The mirror here means agreeable imitation and warmth, not honesty or showing you your true self.
«عِيشَكْ يِحْلَى لِي يَا خَالِي، قَالْ: مِنْ سُوءْ بَخْتِي يَا ابْنُ اخْتِي»
"Uncle, I really love your bread!" "Just my rotten luck, nephew."
The saying mocks praise that serves the person giving it. A nephew tells his maternal uncle how much he enjoys the uncle's bread (عيش here, not "life"). The uncle replies with wry self-pity rather than hostility: it is his bad luck, since a guest who likes the food will keep coming back to eat at his host's expense.
«اِلرَّاجِلْ زَيِّ الْجَزَّارْ مَا يْحِبِّشْ إِلَّا السِّمِينَهْ»
A man is just like a butcher: the plump ones are the only ones he wants.
The saying praises a full, well-fleshed figure. A man choosing a wife is said to favor a heavy, sturdy woman, just as a butcher picks the fattest sheep, so both settle on the same choice. It reflects a traditional body ideal valuing fullness, not a universal standard of attractiveness.
«كُل قُرْصَهْ تِحِبِّ لْهَا رَقْصَهْ»
No loaf comes to you without a dance.
Even something as ordinary as a loaf of bread has to be worked for. The dance stands for the effort that must be put in before any gain arrives, so nothing worth having simply falls into one's hands.
«نُصِّ الْمُونَهْ عَ الطَّابُونَهْ»
Half of what makes bread good depends on the baking.
Fine ingredients, the stock of flour and dough rather than building mortar, are only part of what makes good bread. Even excellent dough can be spoiled if carelessly baked at the bakehouse ovens, so the baking stage weighs heavily; the "half" is rhetorical emphasis, not a measured share.
«اِللِّي فِيهْ عِيشَهْ تَاخْدُهْ أُم الْخِيرْ»
Umm al-Khayr will get no better treatment than Aisha did.
The saying rebukes someone who expects to obtain from a person what another, comparably placed person could not obtain. Changing who makes the claim does not by itself mean that the person approached will be more willing or able to give.
«زَيِّ الْمَرَاكْبِيَّةْ يِتْخَانْقُوا عَلَى حَبْلْ»
Like boatmen brawling over a bit of rope.
The saying pictures a crew of boatmen quarreling fiercely over a single rope. Its throat-grabbing verb signals a heated row, not literal strangling, and the rope simply stands for a petty cause, not a claim about its worth to sailors. It mocks people whose argument has grown far angrier than its cause deserves.
«قَبْلْ مَا اقُولْ يَا أَهْلِي يُكُونُوا جِيرَانِي غَاتُونِي»
My neighbors are already rescuing me before I can even cry out for my kin.
The saying claims that when trouble strikes, the people living right beside you are already helping before you can even finish calling out to your own relatives. Physical closeness, not kinship, decides who reaches you first, so neighbors become the first line of support in a crisis.
«مُوشْ مَرْبَطِ الْفَرَسْ»
The saying, a negated form of a familiar Arabic expression, tells a speaker that their claim misses what matters. The horse's tethering post figuratively stands for the crux of a matter; it is not a literal remark about horses. Denying that the speaker has reached it means they have not told the truth, or that their answer falls short.
«اِللِّي يْلَاقِى مِنْ يِطْبُخْ لُهْ لِيهْ يِحْرَقْ صَوَابْعُهْ؟!»
If someone can cook for you, why risk burning your own fingers?
The saying criticizes someone who assumes a hazardous or burdensome task personally even though another person is already available to take care of it. It presents that choice as needless exposure to harm rather than sensible effort.
«اِللِّي يْرَيَّحَكْ مِ التُّومْ قِلِّةْ أَكْلُهْ»
If garlic bothers you, the remedy is to eat less of it.
The saying recommends reducing one’s contact with an unwanted thing rather than merely enduring its unpleasant effects. It presents restraint or avoidance as the direct way to stop a recurring source of discomfort.
«دَاخِلْ بِيتْ عَدُوَّكْ لِيهْ؟ قَالْ: فِيهْ حَبِيبِي»
"What takes you into your enemy's house?" "Someone dear to me lives there."
The saying, framed as a stylized question and answer rather than a reported conversation, accounts for why someone would knowingly enter hostile ground. What draws the speaker into an adversary's home is a cherished person living there; the visit reflects devotion to that person, not any regard for the enemy.
«قَالُوا: يَا مَرَهْ اِنْتِ سْمِينَه وْعُورَهْ. قَالِت: قِيمْ دَهْ جَنْبْ دَهْ»
The proverb argues that a good quality and a bad one in the same person can cancel each other out. The woman does not deny her defect; she sets an asset beside it, weighing the two as on a balance. The joke rests on an older ideal that counted plumpness as attractive.
«عِيبِ الرَّاجِلْ جِيبُهْ»
A husband is faulted for a thin purse.
A husband is measured by what he provides. The fault people hold against a married man, rather than men in general, is that he spends too little on his wife and children; his purse, more than his other traits, decides how others judge him as head of a household.
«بِدَالْ مَا نْقُولْ: دِيبَةْ، نُقُولْ: قَدَحْ شِعِيرْ»
Do not speak the ill-omened phrase; say instead, “a bowl of barley.”
In the proverb’s rural imagery, a hostile expression invoking ruin is contrasted with one that wishes fertility and abundance. The contrast concerns the force of the words, not a neutral animal reference.
«قَالُوا: يَا جُحَا، إِيهْ أَحْسَنْ أَيَّامَكْ؟ قَالْ: لَمَّا كُنْتْ أَعَبِّي التُّرَابْ فِي الطَّاقِيَّهْ»
The saying holds up early childhood as the happiest time of life. Through the reply of Juha, a stock comic figure of folk humor, it paints those years as aimless play: a boy filling his light cloth cap with dirt, a picture of carefree mischief rather than hardship, with nobody holding it against him.
«زَيِّ الإِبْرَهْ تِكْسِي النَّاسْ وِهِيَّ عِرْيَانَهْ»
Like a needle that clothes everyone else but goes naked itself.
The saying pictures a needle: every garment that dresses other people is made by passing through it, yet the needle itself never wears a stitch. It is applied to someone whose work, skill, or resources keep serving others while bringing nothing back to them.
«نَامْ لَمَّا ادْبَحَكْ. قَالْ: دَا شِيءْ يِطَيَّرِ النُّومْ»
"Go to sleep so I can cut your throat." "Well, that's exactly what keeps a person awake."
The saying mocks an absurd request: one party asks another to fall asleep while announcing that the sleeper will then be killed. The slaughter is a figurative, darkly comic image, not a literal threat. The reply exposes the contradiction: the stated purpose makes compliance impossible.
«اِلْقَاضِي إِنْ مَد إِيدُهْ كِتْرِتْ شُهُودِ الزُّورْ»
Let the judge take a bribe, and liars line up to testify.
The saying traces a chain of cause and effect inside a court. Once the judge “stretches out his hand,” an image for taking a bribe, to favor a side, dishonest cases become winnable, and people willing to testify falsely suddenly find steady work. Bribery at the bench creates demand for perjury below it.
«اِلْفَصِّ التِّقِيلْ يِخْلِي لُهْ مَطْرَحْ»
A heavy clod makes its own room.
The image is a dense clod of hardened mud tumbling down a riverbank. Smaller, lighter debris in its path is shoved aside, and the clod keeps rolling until it settles into a resting place. Its mass alone clears the way to where it lands.
«فِينْ عَزْمَكْ يَا فَشَّارْ آدِي السِّيفْ وَآدِي صَاحِبِ التَّارْ»
The saying mocks an empty boaster whose courage disappears at the decisive moment. Every condition he claimed to need is now in place: the sword is at hand, and the man with a claim to blood vengeance is standing there. His hesitation exposes the earlier talk as hollow, so the line insults as much as it challenges.
«مِنْ آسَى عَلِيك أَحْسِنْ لُهْ يِكْفِي الْمِجَازِي فِعْلُهْ»
Repay the one who harms you with kindness; his own deed will be punishment enough.
The saying advises answering harm with kindness. Instead of striking back at someone who has treated you badly, you should treat that person well and refuse to mirror the injury you received.
«اِللِّي وَاكِلْ لَحْمَهْ نَيَّهْ توجَعُهْ بَطْنُهْ»
Eating raw meat brings stomach pain.
The saying links what someone does with an outcome that becomes apparent in that same person. Its image of raw meat and stomach pain expresses the idea that deeds can show their effects on the doer.
«يَا بَخْتْ مِنْ يَاكُلْ مِنْ قُرصُهْ وِيْآنِسِ النَّاسْ بِحِسُّهْ»
Happy is the one who eats his own bread and cheers others with his conversation.
The saying opens with an exclamation of admiration, not a literal claim about fate or chance. It praises a person who lives on his own round flat bread yet still brightens the company of others with his talk. He takes nothing from anyone's table, but he gives warmth, conversation, and presence in return.
«أَنَا مَا بَارِيدُهْ وِابْنِي يمِد إِيدُهْ»
I say I want nothing to do with it, yet my son reaches for it.
The saying targets someone who makes a show of refusing something, openly disclaiming any wish for it, while letting his son reach out and take it on his behalf.
«بِينْ حَانَهْ وْمَانَهْ ضَاعِتْ لِحَانَا»
Caught between one thing and another, we lost what was ours.
The proverb expresses losing something while a matter remains suspended between two alternatives. Its focus is the loss caused by being caught in the middle, rather than by either alternative alone; the beards are figurative imagery for what has been lost, not a literal injury.
«نَهَارِ الْعَدُو مَا يِصْفَى يِخْفَى»
An enemy's day of true goodwill never comes; if it seems to arrive, it disappears.
The saying claims that an enemy never becomes truly sincere. It exaggerates the point by imagining a day when the foe's heart turns clear, meaning pure and reconciled rather than anything about weather, and then declaring that such a day simply vanishes. Real goodwill from an adversary is treated as something that cannot exist.
«شَايِبْ وِعَايِبْ»
Old enough to know better, yet still acting disgracefully.
This rhyming saying criticizes someone who has reached old age yet still behaves in ways that bring real shame, not mere mischief. The grey hair is meant to signal maturity and sober judgment, so foolish or improper acts from such a person stand out as especially disappointing and hard to excuse.
«الله يِحَيِّي أَصْحَابِ النَّظَرْ الْبَحْتْ يَا لَمُونْ»
Bless those sharp-eyed people who understand a hint—lemons for sale!
The saying praises a generous, perceptive person who recognizes an indirect appeal and responds without requiring the speaker to state a need openly.
«مِنْ غَابْ عَنَّكْ أَصْلُهْ دَلَايِلْ نِسْبِتُهْ فِعْلُهْ»
If you don't know where someone comes from, let what they do tell you.
When you cannot tell where a person comes from or what family stands behind them, their behavior answers the question for you. Actions serve as testimony to inherited family standing: honorable conduct suggests honorable roots, while base conduct exposes a base background.
«عَنْدِ الِامْتِحَانْ يُكْرَمِ الْمَرْء أَوْ يُهَانْ»
When the trial comes, a person either earns honor or meets disgrace.
A person's worth is settled not by talk or reputation but by what happens when they are actually put to the test. The trial itself sorts people, lifting those who meet it well and lowering those who fail; disgrace is one possible outcome, not a fate every test brings.
«بَخْتِي لَقَانِي فِي الطَّرِيقْ يُعْرُجْ، قَالِّي: ارْجَعِي يَا خَايْبَهْ لَارْقُدْ»
Fortune appears as a lame companion, already hobbling, that asks the speaker to retreat before it gives out completely. The picture is wryly self-mocking: one’s luck is so feeble that pressing ahead would finish it off and leave matters worse than before.
«اِللِّي يْدُق يْدُق عَلَى سِدْرُهْ»
If you must strike, strike your own chest rather than someone else's.
The saying tells a person to bear the effects of their own actions rather than direct harm, blame, or rough treatment toward others. Its image of pounding one’s own chest is figurative: it stresses personal responsibility, not an instruction to injure oneself.
«بَخْتِي لَقَانِي فِي مَدْيَقْ اللَّيَّهْ عَكَّرْ عَلَيَّ رَايِقِ الْمَيَّهْ»
My bad luck found me at the narrow bend and turned my clear water muddy.
The proverb portrays ill fortune as arriving even where relief or benefit is expected. Its clear water, made murky, conveys how a favorable moment can be spoiled by an unwelcome turn of events.
«اِلْمَالْ مَالَ ابُونَا وِالْغُربْ يِطْرُدُونَا»
It's our own father's property, and outsiders are driving us off it?!
The saying protests an upside-down situation. Something rightfully belongs to a person through family inheritance, yet outsiders, meaning non-kin rather than "the West", are the ones enjoying it and keeping the true owners away. The speaker voices disbelief that the rightful heirs have become the excluded party.
«عَصْبَهْ وْبُرْدَهْ عَلَى رَاسْ قِرْدَهْ»
Put a scarf and a fine wrap on her, and she is still a monkey underneath.
The image sets two items of women's dress, a striped village headscarf and a wrap draped over the shoulders and wound around the head, onto a she-monkey. The point is that fine or respectable dress, placed on someone thought unsuited to it, looks absurd and changes nothing about the wearer.
«زَيِّ الْفِجْلْ مِتْحَزِّمْ عَ اللَّمَاضَهْ»
Like a radish wrapped in an oversized belt of chatter.
The saying targets a person whose whole claim to merit rests on talk. The key word here means a ready facility for abundant speech, words savored in the mouth like a morsel, not wit or cleverness. He speaks at length about his virtues, yet nothing comes of it; empty verbosity stands in for substance.
«اِللِّي يِعْمِلُهْ الضِّيفْ يِكَّلِّمْ بُهْ الحِلِّي»
Whatever a guest does will be talked about by the host.
The saying warns that actions within another person’s home are likely to be noticed and repeated. It presents hospitality as a setting in which conduct is visible rather than private.
«اِلنَّهَارْ دَهْ دُنْيَا، وِبُكْرَهْ آخْرَهْ»
Today belongs to this world; tomorrow belongs to the next.
The saying contrasts the present world, where people act, earn, and enjoy, with the hereafter, when those actions will be judged. Its 'tomorrow' is figurative, pointing to the afterlife rather than the next day. It reminds the listener that today is not the final word: choices made now must be answered for later.
«زَيِّ الْخَيْلَه الْكَدَّابَهْ»
Flitting back and forth like an empty shadow.
The expression describes a person who cannot stay put, constantly drifting off and returning, so that onlookers keep catching sight of a passing figure or shadow flickering in and out of view. The image is this fleeting glimpse, not a horse, despite the word's resemblance to terms for horses. The stress falls on restlessness and repeated motion.