عَشِيتgrew dim عَينيmy eye فَلاso not أُبصِرُI see ماwhat
عَشِيت عَيني فَلا أُبصِرُ ما
خُطَّwas written فيin صُحفٍpages وَلاnor شَيءَanything حَسنbeautiful
خُطَّ في صُحفٍ وَلا شَيءَ حَسن
My eye has grown dim, so I cannot see what
My eyes have dimmed, unable to discern
is written on pages, nor anything beautiful.
What's inscribed on pages, nor anything fair.
وَلَقدand indeed كانَwas أَنيسيmy companion بَصَريِmy sight
وَلَقد كانَ أَنيسي بَصَريِ
فَعَدمتُso I lost الأُنسَsolace مِنهُfrom it وَالوَسَنand slumber
فَعَدمتُ الأُنسَ مِنهُ وَالوَسَن
Indeed, my sight had been my companion,
My sight was my friend; bereft of it, I've lost
but I lost its solace, and slumber.
All joy in life, all pleasures rare.
طالَماhow often أَنضيتُI exhausted طَرفاًan eye لِلصِباfor youthful passion
طالَما أَنضيتُ طَرفاً لِلصِبا
ذاpossessed of شَبابٍyouth مُرخياًletting slack مِنهُfrom it الرَسَنthe reins
ذا شَبابٍ مُرخياً مِنهُ الرَسَن
How often I exhausted my gaze in youthful passion,
Long did I train a glance, in youth's springtide,
while young, letting its reins hang loose.
On a branch hung with blossoms, smooth and spare.
وَاهتصَرتُand I embraced القَدthe figure غُصناa bough مائِساًswaying gracefully
وَاهتصَرتُ القَد غُصنا مائِساً
وَارتَشَفتُand I sipped الرِيقَsaliva عَذباناsweet (unclear form) أَسِنstale
وَارتَشَفتُ الرِيقَ عَذبانا أَسِن
And I embraced a figure, a swaying bough,
I'd bend my neck towards a bough, inclining,
and sipped saliva, sweet yet stale.
And quaff the pure drink, supple and rare.
وَفَرضتُand I ordained عِشقَlove of ريمٍa gazelle أَهيفٍslender-waisted
وَفَرضتُ عِشقَ ريمٍ أَهيفٍ
وَسَنَنتُand I honed صَبوَتيmy youthful passion فيهِon him مَسَنa whetstone
وَسَنَنتُ صَبوَتي فيهِ مَسَن
And I made loving a slender-waisted gazelle my duty,
Passion I held for a fawn, so graceful,
and honed my passion on him as on a whetstone.
And spent my prime smitten, in loving care.
مِنfrom بَنيthe sons of التُركِthe Turks صَغيرٌa youth دَمِثُgentle الthe
مِن بَني التُركِ صَغيرٌ دَمِثُ ال
خُلقtemperament لَينٌtender حَسنُbeautiful الخَلقِthe bodily form بَسَنvery fair
خُلق لَينٌ حَسنُ الخَلقِ بَسَن
A youth from among the Turks, gentle in
A Turk, still beardless, lovely in nature,
temper, tender, handsome in form, truly fair.
Refined in manners, handsome in air.
كُنتُI was قدماًformerly عاشِقاًa lover فيamong عَرَبٍArabs
كُنتُ قدماً عاشِقاً في عَرَبٍ
وَأَناand I اليَومَtoday بِحُبٍّin love فيwith أَسَنAsan (a name)
وَأَنا اليَومَ بِحُبٍّ في أَسَن
Once I was a lover among Arabs,
In Arab lands I loved before, afar,
and today I am in love with Asan.
But now am struck by love, in this snare.
كُلَّماwhenever قُلتُI said لَهُto him منwho ذاthis one الَّذيwho
كُلَّما قُلتُ لَهُ من ذا الَّذي
فيكَfor you أَضحىhas become هائِماًlove-distraught يَقولhe says سَنyou (Turkish sen)
فيكَ أَضحى هائِماً يَقول سَن
Whenever I ask him, 'Who is it
Whenever I said: "Who is it that's left you
who has gone love-mad for you?' he says, 'Sen' ('you').
Smitten, repeating my name in prayer?"
فَمَضىso passed هَذاthis وَلمّاand not يَبقَremained ليto me
فَمَضى هَذا وَلمّا يَبقَ لي
غَيرُexcept فكرٍthought وَلِسانٍand a tongue ذيpossessing لَسَنeloquence
غَيرُ فكرٍ وَلِسانٍ ذي لَسَن
That has passed; nothing remains to me
That's gone, no more remains for me to do
but thought and an eloquent tongue.
Except reminisce and lick my lips, if I dare.
أَيُّwhat لَهوٍpleasure لامرئٍfor a man يَبقىremains خليmy friend
أَيُّ لَهوٍ لامرئٍ يَبقى خلي
وَقدhave blazed الفَودانِthe two temples مِنهُof his وأَسَنand he has aged
وَقد الفَودانِ مِنهُ وأَسَن
What pleasure remains for a man, my friend,
What use is diversion to a man who's left
whose temples blaze and who has grown old?
Alone by loved ones, in forlorn despair?
Sol 6.1