أَوْ كَصَيِّبٍ مِّنَ ٱلسَّمَآءِ فِيهِ ظُلُمَـٰتٌ وَرَعْدٌ وَبَرْقٌ يَجْعَلُونَ أَصَـٰبِعَهُمْ فِىٓ ءَاذَانِهِم مِّنَ ٱلصَّوَٰعِقِ حَذَرَ ٱلْمَوْتِ ۚ وَٱللَّهُ مُحِيطٌۢ بِٱلْكَـٰفِرِينَ
Aw kasaiyibim minas samaaa'i feehi zulumaatunw wa ra'dunw wa barq, yaj'aloona asaabi'ahum feee aazaanihim minas sawaa'iqi hazaral mawt' wallaahu muheetum bilkaafireen
Bir kısmı da, karanlıklarda, gök gürlemeleri ve şimşek arasında gökten boşanan sağanağa tutulup, yıldırımlardan ölmek korkusu ile parmaklarını kulaklarına tıkayan kimseye benzer.
Or like a downpour from the sky, full of darkness, thunder, and lightning — they thrust their fingers into their ears against the thunderclaps, in dread of death. And God encompasses those who deny him.
The gesture and the closing clause are set against each other: fingers pushed into the ears close off two small openings, and the verse ends with muḥīṭ, encompassing from every side. Rain coming down from the sky is a mercy image elsewhere in this passage, three verses on it is provision, and here the same descent brings only darkness and noise. What gets shut out is the sound; the danger it belongs to is already all around.