وغادَةٍand a graceful maiden عادَتِreturned الدنياthe world ببهجَتِهاthrough her splendor
وغادَةٍ عادَتِ الدنيا ببهجَتِها
ماwhatever شِئْتَyou wished منof ذاتِone endowed with أَنوارِlights ونُوَّارِand blossoms
ما شِئْتَ من ذاتِ أَنوارِ ونُوَّارِ
And a graceful maiden whose splendor renewed the world,
When morning came with its splendor
All you could wish for in a woman of radiance and blossoms.
You could have whatever you wished of luminous lights
سَعْدٌgood fortune لِمَنْfor whoever رَقَدَتْshe slept فيin طَيِّthe fold of ساعِدِهhis forearm
سَعْدٌ لِمَنْ رَقَدَتْ في طَيِّ ساعِدِه
قريسَةًnipped لاnot بأَنيابby fangs وأَظفارِand claws
قريسَةً لا بأَنياب وأَظفارِ
Fortunate is he in the crook of whose arm she slept,
Happy is he who slept with her resting on his arm
Nipped, but not by fangs or claws.
Gently, not with fangs and claws
تَفْتَرُّshe parts her lips in a smile عنto reveal مَبْسِمٍa smiling mouth كالأُقْحُوانِlike daisies غَدَاcame to be
تَفْتَرُّ عن مَبْسِمٍ كالأُقْحُوانِ غَدَا
منfrom ريقِهِits saliva فَوْقَهاover them طَلُّfine dew النَّدىmoisture جاريflowing
من ريقِهِ فَوْقَها طَلُّ النَّدى جاري
She smiles, revealing a mouth like daisies, now
She smiles with the radiance of early morning
With dewdrops from its saliva flowing over them.
Above her the dew drips its strands
ويستعيرُand borrows نسيمَbreeze الريحِthe wind رائحةًa fragrance
ويستعيرُ نسيمَ الريحِ رائحةً
منfrom طِيبِsweetness أَنفاسِهاher breaths فيin عَرْفِهِits perfume السَّاريwafting
من طِيبِ أَنفاسِها في عَرْفِهِ السَّاري
And the wind’s breeze borrows a fragrance
And the breeze borrows its fragrance
From her sweet breath, in its wafting perfume.
From her sweet breath diffusing through the air
زَجَرْتُI read omens from فيconcerning شأْنِهاher affair الأَطيارَthe birds ساجِعَةًcooing
زَجَرْتُ في شأْنِها الأَطيارَ ساجِعَةً
ولمand did not يَخِبْfail قَطُّever عنديfor me زَجْرُaugury from أَطيارِbirds
ولم يَخِبْ قَطُّ عندي زَجْرُ أَطيارِ
I read omens about her in the cooing birds,
I scolded the birds to stop their chatter
And augury from birds has never failed me.
My scolding of birds never fails
هذاthis شِعارُكَyour inner garment تكُسونِيyou clothe me دقائِقَهُits fine parts
هذا شِعارُكَ تكُسونِي دقائِقَهُ
وهذِهand these هذِهِthese لاno شَكَّdoubt أَشعاريmy poems
وهذِه هذِهِ لا شَكَّ أَشعاري
This is your inner garment; you clothe me in its fine threads,
This is your emblem clothing me in every detail
And these—these—are without doubt my poems.
These, no doubt, are my verses
Sol 6.1