وتَسألُني قَصيدتيَ الجديدةْ

وتَسألُني قَصيدتيَ الجديدةْ

وأحلامي وأوهامي العَنِيدَةْ

وأحلامي وأوهامي العَنِيدَةْ

And my new poem asks me,

And my new poem asks me,

as do my dreams and my stubborn fancies,

and my dreams and my stubborn illusions,

وأقلامي ويَسألُ كُلُّ حَرْفٍ

وأقلامي ويَسألُ كُلُّ حَرْفٍ

أُسَطِّرُهُ وآلامي العَديدةْ

أُسَطِّرُهُ وآلامي العَديدةْ

and my pens; every letter asks,

and my pens; and I am asked by every letter

each one I set down—and so do my many sorrows:

I write, and by my many sorrows:

لِمَنْ سَجَدَتْ حُروفُ الشِّعرِ حَتَّى

لِمَنْ سَجَدَتْ حُروفُ الشِّعرِ حَتَّى

كَتَبْتَ لِعَينِها أَحلى قَصيدة؟

كَتَبْتَ لِعَينِها أَحلى قَصيدة؟

For whom did your poetic letters bow, until

“To whom did poetry’s letters bow down, so that

you wrote for her eyes the loveliest poem?

you wrote the loveliest poem for her eye?

ينامُ النَّاسُ حَوْلَكَ في هُدوءٍ

ينامُ النَّاسُ حَوْلَكَ في هُدوءٍ

وطَرْفُكَ أين لَحْظَتُهُ السَّعِيدةْ؟

وطَرْفُكَ أين لَحْظَتُهُ السَّعِيدةْ؟

People around you sleep in peace,

People sleep around you in peace,

but your eye—where is its happy moment?

and your eye—where is its happy moment?”

فقلتُ: نَعَمْ أَرَقُّ النَّاسِ لُطْفًا

فقلتُ: نَعَمْ أَرَقُّ النَّاسِ لُطْفًا

وأخلاقًا وآراءً سَديدةْ

وأخلاقًا وآراءً سَديدةْ

So I said: “Yes—the tenderest of all people in kindness,

So I said: “Yes, she is the gentlest of people in kindness

in character, and in sound judgment;

and character, with sound opinions.

تَخِرُّ لها القَصائدُ ساجِداتٍ

تَخِرُّ لها القَصائدُ ساجِداتٍ

برغم البُعدِ، ليست بالبعيدةْ

برغم البُعدِ، ليست بالبعيدةْ

before her, poems fall prostrate,

Poems fall prostrate before her;

despite the distance, she is not far away.”

despite the distance, she is not far away.”