1. No stored rainwater in a drained cloudskin
Pouring on the highest rocks and overflowing,

2. Its abundance spreading through the meadow as if
It were a smooth soft meadow carpet.

3. When the gentle wind laps against it
You'd say pages being softly turned,

4. Sweeter than when it gathered and blew
And the night's skin whitened at dawn.

5. No garden the chamomile scented
where the bright flowers preened,

6. As if with its singing were freed
A rumbling lute or an Indian harp sighing.

7. Sweeter than when she came dressed
In the green of her dress that murmured

8. As she moved, when it rustled over her breast.
No spindle singing in the desolate campsite

9. Wandering free in the hollows and plains,
Turning to the shade of the clubmoss and then

10. Looking out from the hilltops above.
Lovelier than when she stood up and left,

11. Saying goodbye as the tears came flooding out.
No rejected rose on a spring-green branch,

12. With a heart burning for the water it craves,
The thorns are quenched around it, but it thirsts

13. Unrefreshed, nor budging from the branch.
Sweeter, more delicious than the pleasure sprays

14. Rippling through me from the hollows of your hand
No turtle-dove moaning from an arák bough

15. Grieving for the loss till it cries out loud.
It weeps, eyelids and heart, for the lost familiar,

16. Wounded by the ache of parting.
More poignant than my misery that day I recalled you—

17. My arid valley overflowing after the tribe had left.
No staggering trunk of dawḥ wood in the wasteland

18. Shaken by the winds however firmly based.
When the North winds lash it late afternoon,

19. You can see a turtle-dove swaying on its branch.
Clearer than me swaying the day you swayed up,

20. Lamenting love, confiding speechlessly.
You feared the spying watcher and the slanderer—

21. Not speaking out plain or even hinting.
No ewe led to slaughter stalling on the way,

22. Though the water-drawers chide her lingering pace,
Yearning for her goal constrains her, holds her spellbound,

23. Heading to her death she does not flinch or turn.
Sweeter than meeting you there humbled,

24. While the eyes of the crowd silently watch.
I swore by the Lord of dancers that evening

25. Bound for ʿArafah though my heart was crushed.
One whom a tribe has claimed, embracing within,

26. When they leave is severed by a desolate, empty plain.
The camel litters come into Mina for their queens,

27. Other camel litters are brought up to be sacrificed.
You in spite of enemies are the one who lights up

28. The darkest night, most brilliant and shining.
Your presence will heal sickness for a time

29. Then it may worsen, through your presence made well.
And if you've set a coal aflame inside my heart

30. That will scorch across the nights and blaze,
Still, you are gentler to it than its darkness

31. And sweeter in it even than its comfort or tranquility.