فيها مُؤانِسَةٌ لَنا وَحشِيَّةٌ

فيها مُؤانِسَةٌ لَنا وَحشِيَّةٌ

تومي بِناظِرِها إِلى ظَمياءِ

تومي بِناظِرِها إِلى ظَمياءِ

Within it, a wild creature keeps us company,

She is a companion to us, yet so feral,

gesturing with her eye toward a slender-lipped beauty.

Her gaze wanders into the darkness,

تَختالُ في مُتَصَندِلٍ مُتَكَفِّرٍ

تَختالُ في مُتَصَندِلٍ مُتَكَفِّرٍ

تِبراً أَضَرَّ بِفِضَّةٍ بَيضاءِ

تِبراً أَضَرَّ بِفِضَّةٍ بَيضاءِ

She struts amid sandalwood hues and camphor white—

Strutting about, wrapped snug in her cloak,

gold pressed close against white silver.

Her brilliant silver stained with mud,

وَدَقيقَةَ الأَطرافِ وَهيَ جَسيمَةٌ

وَدَقيقَةَ الأَطرافِ وَهيَ جَسيمَةٌ

رَيّا تُمَرمِرُ في مُتونِ ظِماءِ

رَيّا تُمَرمِرُ في مُتونِ ظِماءِ

And one, slender at the ends yet ample-bodied,

Slim of figure, yet robust in built,

brimming, flows over thirsty backs.

A doe dancing through the dark night,

وَمُغَنِّياتٍ مِن وَراءِ سَتائِرٍ

وَمُغَنِّياتٍ مِن وَراءِ سَتائِرٍ

مَشقوقَةَ الأَوساطِ وَالأَحناءِ

مَشقوقَةَ الأَوساطِ وَالأَحناءِ

And songstresses from behind curtains,

Songs ringing from behind fluttering curtains,

split at their middles and sides,

Of figures swaying and bending low,

غَنَّت فَلَم تُحوَج إِلى مَشهورَةٍ

غَنَّت فَلَم تُحوَج إِلى مَشهورَةٍ

وَشَدَت فَلَم تَفقَر إِلى المَيلاءِ

وَشَدَت فَلَم تَفقَر إِلى المَيلاءِ

sang, leaving you no need for a celebrated singer,

Her voice sang clearly sans trills,

and warbled, leaving you no need for al-Mayla.

She pulled the strings, sans a plectrum,

تَبدو عَلى أَعناقِهِنَّ أَهِلَّةٌ

تَبدو عَلى أَعناقِهِنَّ أَهِلَّةٌ

سودٌ تَبَدَّلُ ظُلمَةً بِضِياءِ

سودٌ تَبَدَّلُ ظُلمَةً بِضِياءِ

Upon their necks appear crescents,

Her neck wore collars, dark as night,

black, exchanging light for darkness.

That shifted darkness into light.