1. I would sacrifice my soul for beautiful Seville,
Though it has caused my heart to suffer torment.

2. There I clung to the soil of daytime,
And the tender branches of night, a face and eye.

3. In the like of them, my peer sheds restraint,
And cares not how the evening comes or where.

4. Together I drink from her mouth the cup of wine,
So how can I wake from these two intoxications?

5. My yearning for her the day Al-Mazar was flooded,
And distance led her to the Nile banks.

6. I bid her farewell, though my love was burning,
Not soothed by a sip of consolation.

7. She bid farewell with an alluring glance,
Taking my heart with her in her company.

8. O vintage of carefree Andalusia,
He who lived in those meadows was blessed.

9. Was life really thus in that land?
Days filled with luxury, hearts filled with joy?

10. Was temptation really thus in the singing girls,
And the rapture of union and the heat of passion?

11. If the era of our loved ones has passed,
And hope of return is no more,

12. Still my oath to them keeps faith,
I recount their past with the sacrifice of youth.

13. I am the son of Zaydoun, and she is my inclination,
A passion in my blood and my inspiration.

14. My first lesson in the art of love
Was Beirut, where I learned love at first.

15. And it was said, can a heart led astray find guidance?
Yet guidance itself goes astray in burgeoning youth.

16. I extended my hand when it was said, and my heart was sated,
But it drew back from the spring.

17. O Beirut, had I wished, I could have repelled trouble,
And not abandoned you, but woe to me!

18. In God's protection, my wish has come true,
A lush, verdant grove, the place of my contentment.

19. Perhaps in your sister, O Syria, some solace
Can be found for the grave loss.

20. O eye, it pleases me for you to be sleepless
And buy wakefulness with good tidings.

21. For me, a long slumber tomorrow
In a grave so very deep in the earth.

22. Have you not seen the birds of youth in my hand?
I fear heedlessness will startle them away.

23. Their wings are long, and they may yet find
Their way to the heights of their nest at dawn.

24. I see that thirty are about to overtake me,
Galloping steeds fast approaching.

25. And after another ten, my days twist back upon themselves,
The oil runs out and the flame gutters.

26. If I live, I must surely turn
To the radiant meadows of Andalusia,

27. And conjure up the ghosts of the golden age,
Dancing, alluring, bewitching.

28. There I cannot but shed
My tears for our bygone days.

29. Perhaps, O tears of a loving faithful one,
You may restore the gardens of wishes in bloom.

30. Then upon my lute I will play
The melody of love mingled with reproach.

31. I would sacrifice my soul for beautiful Seville,
Though it has caused my heart to suffer torment.