جالَcoursed ماءُthe water الشَبابِof youth فيin خَدَّيكَyour cheeks
جالَ ماءُ الشَبابِ في خَدَّيكَ
وَتَلالاand sparkled البَهاءُradiance فيon عارِضَيكَthe sides of your face
وَتَلالا البَهاءُ في عارِضَيكَ
The water of youth coursed through your cheeks,
The freshness of youth flowed on your cheeks,
The fresh water of youth flows freely in your cheeks,
And radiance sparkled on the sides of your face.
And the splendor of glory on your temples.
And a dazzling splendor shimmers upon your face.
وَرَمىand struck طَرفُكَyour gaze المُكَحَّلُkohl-lined بِالسِحwith sorcery (continued)
وَرَمى طَرفُكَ المُكَحَّلُ بِالسِح
رِcompletes 'sorcery' فُؤاديmy heart فَصارَand it became رَهناًa pledge لَدَيكَin your keeping
رِ فُؤادي فَصارَ رَهناً لَدَيكَ
And with sorcery your kohl-lined gaze struck
Your kohl-lined eyes shot arrows
Your kohl-rimmed glance has cast a spell of magic
my heart, and it became a pledge in your keeping.
Into my heart, making it your prisoner.
Upon my heart, leaving it held captive by you.
أَناI مُستَهتِرٌbesotted بِحُبِّكَwith love for you صَبٌّlove-stricken
أَنا مُستَهتِرٌ بِحُبِّكَ صَبٌّ
لَستُI do not أَشكوcomplain of هَواكَlove for you إِلّاexcept إِلَيكَto you
لَستُ أَشكو هَواكَ إِلّا إِلَيكَ
I am mad with love for you, love-stricken;
I jest about your love, O Youth!
I am consumed by your love, a yearning soul,
I complain of my love for you to none but you.
I complain of your passion only to you.
And I complain of my passion to none but you.
ياO بَديعَwondrous in الجَمالِbeauty وَالحُسنِand loveliness وَالدَلand coquetry (continued)
يا بَديعَ الجَمالِ وَالحُسنِ وَالدَل
لِcompletes 'coquetry' حَياتيmy life وَميتَتيand my death فيin يَدَيكَyour hands
لِ حَياتي وَميتَتي في يَدَيكَ
O you, wondrous in beauty, loveliness, and coquetry,
O you of perfect beauty, charm and grace -
O marvel of beauty, of grace, and of charm,
my life and my death are in your hands.
My life and my death are in your hands.
My life and my death lie within your hands.
بِأَبيwith my father as ransom أَنتَyou لَوif بُليتَyou were afflicted بِوَجدٍwith passionate longing
بِأَبي أَنتَ لَو بُليتَ بِوَجدٍ
لَمnot يَهُنbe slight ماwhat لَقيتُI suffered مِنكَfrom you عَلَيكَto you
لَم يَهُن ما لَقيتُ مِنكَ عَلَيكَ
May my father be your ransom! Were you afflicted with longing,
By my father! If you were to be afflicted with love’s agony,
May I be your ransom; if you were tried by such love,
what I have suffered at your hands would not seem slight to you.
No disgrace did I meet from you would be too much for you.
The suffering I endure from you would not seem light to you.
أَصبَحَتhave become بِالهَوىthrough love سِهامُthe arrows المَناياof death
أَصبَحَت بِالهَوى سِهامُ المَنايا
قاصِداتٍaimed إِلَيَّtoward me مِنfrom عَينَيكَyour eyes
قاصِداتٍ إِلَيَّ مِن عَينَيكَ
Through love, the arrows of death have become
The arrows of death, intent on me,
The arrows of death have become, through this passion,
aimed at me from your eyes.
Now come from your eyes.
Targeted straight at me from your very eyes.
Sol 6.1