لَقَد صُبِّحَت بِالخَيرِ عَينٌ تَصَبَّحَت

لَقَد صُبِّحَت بِالخَيرِ عَينٌ تَصَبَّحَت

بِوَجهِكِ يا مَعشوقُ في كُلِّ شارِقِ

بِوَجهِكِ يا مَعشوقُ في كُلِّ شارِقِ

Blessed indeed is the eye that begins its morning

A morning blessed with your face has dawned,

Greeted with goodness is the eye that awakens,

With your face, O beloved, at every sunrise.

Illuminating every horizon, my beloved.

To the sight of your face, O beloved, at every rising sun.

مُقَرطَقَةٌ لَم يَحنِها سَحبُ ذَيلِها

مُقَرطَقَةٌ لَم يَحنِها سَحبُ ذَيلِها

وَلا نازَعَتها الريحُ فَضلَ البَنائِقِ

وَلا نازَعَتها الريحُ فَضلَ البَنائِقِ

Clad in a short tunic, she is not bowed by dragging her hem,

Untangled are her plaited locks,

Clad in a tunic, unbowed by the dragging weight of her train,

Nor has the wind contended with her for loose garment panels.

Unruffled by the winds her dress's trailing hem.

Nor has the wind wrestled with her over the fullness of her pleats.

تُشارِكُ في الصُنعِ النِساءَ وَسُلِّمَت

تُشارِكُ في الصُنعِ النِساءَ وَسُلِّمَت

لَهُنَّ صُنوفُ الحُليِ غَيرَ المَناطِقِ

لَهُنَّ صُنوفُ الحُليِ غَيرَ المَناطِقِ

She shares with women in adornment, yet left

She shares in women's handicraft, but not their veils;

She shares in the nature of women, yet to them are surrendered

To them are the kinds of jewelry, except girdles.

Jewels of every kind save crowns adorn her head.

All varieties of jewelry, save for the waist-sashes.

وَمَطمومَةٍ لَم تَتَّصِل بِذُؤابَةٍ

وَمَطمومَةٍ لَم تَتَّصِل بِذُؤابَةٍ

وَلَم تَعتَقِد بِالتاجِ فَوقَ المَفارِقِ

وَلَم تَعتَقِد بِالتاجِ فَوقَ المَفارِقِ

And her hair is cropped, with no long tress attached,

With kohl unsmeared, no tattoo on her wrist,

With hair shorn short, unconnected to any long braid,

Nor has she bound a crown above the partings of her hair.

No necklace round her slender throat encircled.

And not knotted with a diadem atop the partings.

كَأَنَّ مَخَطَّ الصُدغِ فَوقَ خُدودِها

كَأَنَّ مَخَطَّ الصُدغِ فَوقَ خُدودِها

بَقِيَّةُ أَنقاسٍ بِإِصبَعِ لائِقِ

بَقِيَّةُ أَنقاسٍ بِإِصبَعِ لائِقِ

As though her sidelock's line upon her cheeks

As if the mole still glistened on her cheek

As though the tracing of the side-lock upon her cheeks

Were remnants of ink on an ink-mixer's finger.

From a touch of his blessed finger fresh imprinted.

Were the remnant of ink upon the finger of a scribe.

نَدَتهُ بِماءِ المِسكِ حَتّى جَرى لَها

نَدَتهُ بِماءِ المِسكِ حَتّى جَرى لَها

إِلى مُستَقَرٍّ بَينَ أُذنٍ وَعاتِقِ

إِلى مُستَقَرٍّ بَينَ أُذنٍ وَعاتِقِ

She moistened it with musk-water until it flowed down

Anointed was it with musk-scented water,

She moistened it with musk-water until it flowed down

To a resting place between her ear and shoulder.

Trickling down between her earlobe and her neck.

To a resting place between the ear and the shoulder.

غُلامٌ وَإِلّا فَالغُلامُ شَبيهُها

غُلامٌ وَإِلّا فَالغُلامُ شَبيهُها

وَرَيحانُ دُنيا لَذَّةٌ لِلمُعانِقِ

وَرَيحانُ دُنيا لَذَّةٌ لِلمُعانِقِ

A boy—or, if not, a boy is her likeness,

A beardless youth - but had he facial down,

A boy—or if not, then the boy resembles her—

And the world's sweet basil, a delight to whoever embraces her.

The very image of her he'd have resembled.

And the sweet basil of this world, a delight to the embrace.

تَجَمَّعَ فيها الشَكلُ وَالزَيُّ كُلَّهُ

تَجَمَّعَ فيها الشَكلُ وَالزَيُّ كُلَّهُ

فَلَيسَ يُوَفّي وَصفَها قَولُ ناطِقِ

فَلَيسَ يُوَفّي وَصفَها قَولُ ناطِقِ

Form and attire have come together wholly in her,

In her all beauty and perfection lie combined.

In her, all beauty of form and costume is gathered,

So no speaker's words can do full justice to describing her.

No words of mine can do her justice, so I'll cease.

So that the speech of a speaker falls short of her description.