عنّتْshe came to mind علىto البالthe mind ِفيin ليلnight ِالهوىlove الساحرْenchanting
عنّتْ على البال ِفي ليل ِالهوى الساحرْ
وand الشوقُlonging هاجَsurged كموجlike a wave ٍمُزبدfoaming ٍهادرْroaring
و الشوقُ هاجَ كموج ٍمُزبد ٍهادرْ
She came to mind in love's enchanting night.
My thoughts dwelled on love's enchanted night
And longing surged like a foaming, roaring wave.
And yearning surged like frothing waves so bright
ياoh لهفَanguish نفسيmy soul !علىover قلبيmy heart وand محنتِهِits ordeal
يا لهفَ نفسي !على قلبي و محنتِهِ
للمستحيلtoward the impossible ِعلىover شوكthorns ِالغَضاthe ghada shrub سائرْjourneying
للمستحيل ِعلى شوك ِالغَضا سائرْ
Oh, my soul's anguish over my heart and its ordeal!
Oh my restless soul! My heart in such distress
It journeys toward the impossible over the ghada shrub's thorns.
Seeking the impossible midst thorns’ caress
ياoh حبّذاhow welcome نسمةٌa breeze كسْلىlanguid تمُرّpasses بهاby her
يا حبّذا نسمةٌ كسْلى تمُرّ بها
حتىso that تنُمَّit reveals لناto us عنabout بيتهاher home العامِرْfull of life
حتى تنُمَّ لنا عن بيتها العامِرْ
Oh, how welcome a languid breeze that passes by her,
If only a gentle breeze would pass our home
To tell us of her home, full of life.
And lull for us its prosperous threshold’s calm
ظننتُهاI imagined her جانبيbeside me ، كلّمتُهاI spoke to her ، خجلتْshe grew shy
ظننتُها جانبي ، كلّمتُها ، خجلتْ
فقلتُso I said : بُوحِيspeak your heart ، أماis there not للصمتto silence ِمنany آخرْend؟
فقلتُ : بُوحِي ، أما للصمت ِمن آخرْ؟
I imagined her beside me; I spoke to her; she grew shy.
I thought her by my side, spoke, she was shy
So I said, "Speak your heart—is there no end to silence?"
I said "My secret, does silence have no ally?"
ياO قرّةَsoothing coolness العينthe eye ِإنّindeed الصمتَsilence يؤلمُنيit pains me
يا قرّةَ العين ِإنّ الصمتَ يؤلمُني
وand لمْnot أعُدْI am any longer فيin احتمالenduring ِالوجدpassionate longing ِبالقادرْable
و لمْ أعُدْ في احتمال ِالوجد ِبالقادرْ
O coolness of my eye, silence pains me,
Oh solace of my eyes, silence pains me so
And I can no longer bear passionate longing.
No longer able, passion’s heat to undergo
ياO فسحةَbreathing space الروحthe soul ِكمْhow greatly أدمىhas bloodied غيابُكمُyour absence
يا فسحةَ الروح ِكمْ أدمى غيابُكمُ
أصابعَfingers الحبرink ِوالوجدانand feeling ِوand الخاطرْthought!
أصابعَ الحبر ِوالوجدان ِو الخاطرْ!
O breathing space of the soul, how your absence has bloodied
Oh breath of life how sorely your absence stings
The fingers of ink, of feeling, and of thought!
My fingers, heart and thoughts with suffering!
حتىuntil متىwhen أنتyou ِلغزٌa riddle ياO معذّبتيmy tormentor ؟
حتى متى أنت ِلغزٌ يا معذّبتي ؟
فيin حَلِّuntying عُقدتِهits knot يتعقّدُbecomes entangled الساحرْthe sorcerer
في حَلِّ عُقدتِه يتعقّدُ الساحرْ
How long will you remain a riddle, O my tormentor?
How long will you remain my torment, mystery?
In untying its knot, the sorcerer becomes entangled.
Resolving your knot makes the sorcerer uneasy
تعطّفيshow compassion، إنَّindeed بعضَsome العطفcompassion ِمكرُمةٌa noble deed
تعطّفي، إنَّ بعضَ العطف ِمكرُمةٌ
وand أرشِدينيguide me للُقياto a meeting طيفِكyour apparition ِالآسِرْcaptivating
و أرشِديني للُقيا طيفِك ِالآسِرْ
Show compassion; a little compassion is a noble deed.
Show mercy, some kindness is an honor indeed
And guide me to meet your captivating apparition.
And guide me to your charming phantom I plead
أقولُI say للنفسto the soul ِدوماًalways حينَwhen تسألنيit asks me :
أقولُ للنفس ِدوماً حينَ تسألني :
ماwhat اسمُهاher name؟ لسْتُI am not أدريI know ، رمزُهاher cipher ساترْconcealing
ما اسمُها؟ لسْتُ أدري ، رمزُها ساترْ
I always say to my soul when it asks me:
I always say, when my soul asks her name
"What is her name?"—"I do not know; her cipher veils her."
I know not, her veil conceals her all the same
وand حينَwhen أكتبُI write حرفيmy written word كمْhow often أقولُI say لهُto it:
و حينَ أكتبُ حرفي كمْ أقولُ لهُ:
ياoh ليتَif only عنوانَهاher address فيon صفحتيmy page حاضِرْpresent!
يا ليتَ عنوانَها في صفحتي حاضِرْ!
And when I set down my written word, how often I say to it:
And when I write, how I say to my pen
"Oh, if only her address were present on my page!"
I wish her name graced my page back and then!
أقولُI say للحِبرto the ink ِ:مهلاًgently حينَwhen أنزفُهُI bleed it
أقولُ للحِبر ِ:مهلاً حينَ أنزفُهُ
أسوارُهاher walls قلعةٌa fortress ، لاnot ترحمُshows mercy to الناظرْthe beholder
أسوارُها قلعةٌ ، لا ترحمُ الناظرْ
I say to the ink, "Gently," as I bleed it:
I say to the ink, wait, when I bleed it out
"Her walls are a fortress that shows no mercy to the beholder."
Her fortress is stern, no mercy for the devout
عَقليmy mind المُطيعُobedient إذاwhen ماemphatic particle اشتدّgrows fierce بيwithin me وَلَهٌpassionate yearning
عَقلي المُطيعُ إذا ما اشتدّ بي وَلَهٌ
والقلبُand the heart للعقلover the mind ِفيunder شرعthe law ِالهوىlove آمِرْa commander
والقلبُ للعقل ِفي شرع ِالهوى آمِرْ
My mind is obedient whenever yearning grows fierce within me,
My obedient mind, when passion seizes me
And the heart commands the mind under love's law.
The heart commands it, in love's creed so free
حاصرتُهاI besieged her، قيّدتنيshe shackled me، عُدْتُI returned منكسراًbroken
حاصرتُها، قيّدتني، عُدْتُ منكسراً
دميmy blood،دموعيmy tears،ضحاياvictims الأمسyesterday ِوالحاضرْand the present
دمي،دموعي،ضحايا الأمس ِوالحاضرْ
I besieged her; she shackled me; I returned broken.
I besieged her, she shackled me, I was crushed
My blood, my tears—victims of yesterday and the present.
My blood, my tears, victim of past and present's hush
كلُّall الحكايةthe story ِأنيthat I قدْindeed فتِنْتُI was captivated بكمْby you
كلُّ الحكاية ِأني قدْ فتِنْتُ بكمْ
وand لسْتُI am not فيin خلجاتstirrings ِالحبِّlove بالتاجرْa merchant
و لسْتُ في خلجات ِالحبِّ بالتاجرْ
The whole story is that I have been captivated by you,
The story is, I was tempted by your charm
And I am no merchant in the stirrings of love.
In love's tumult, I am no merchant trading calm
أناI الذيwho يعشقُloves passionately المجهولَthe unknown فيin تعبweariness
أنا الذي يعشقُ المجهولَ في تعب
وand هكذاthus قدَريmy fate ، ياO حظِيَmy fortune العاثِرْstumbling!
و هكذا قدَري ، يا حظِيَ العاثِرْ!
I am the one who loves the unknown in weariness,
I who love the unknown amidst weary days
And such is my fate, O my stumbling fortune!
Such is my fate, my luck the ground that grazes!
وand أهجرُI forsake الشِّعرَpoetry لكنيbut I إذاwhen لمعَتْflashed
و أهجرُ الشِّعرَ لكني إذا لمعَتْ
بروقُlightning flashes غيمتِهاher cloud أغدوI become بهاthrough her الشاعِرْthe poet
بروقُ غيمتِها أغدو بها الشاعِرْ
And I forsake poetry, yet when they flash—
I abandon verse but when her clouds shine bright
The lightning bolts of her cloud—I become the poet through her.
Her lightning stirs in me the poet’s might
أناI الذيwho حِرْتُI was bewildered فيin نعمىbliss طلاسِمِهاher talismans
أنا الذي حِرْتُ في نعمى طلاسِمِها
وand هيَshe التيwho مادرَتْdid not know أنيthat I بهاby her حائِرْbewildered
و هيَ التي مادرَتْ أني بها حائِرْ
I am the one who was bewildered amid the bliss of her talismans,
I who lost myself in the riddle of her spell
And she is the one who did not know I was bewildered by her.
And she knew not that I wandered where she dwells
Sol 6.1