شَرِبتُ كُؤوسَ الحُبِّ صِرفاً وَليسَ لي

شَرِبتُ كُؤوسَ الحُبِّ صِرفاً وَليسَ لي

مِزَاجُ رَذاذٍ للوِصَالِ ولا طَشِّ

مِزَاجُ رَذاذٍ للوِصَالِ ولا طَشِّ

I drank love's cups unmixed, with no

I have drunk the cups of love continuously, yet I have no inclination for the spray of union, nor rapture.

admixture of union's drizzle, nor even a sprinkling.

The witnesses of my love are between my eyelids and my sight, so that a tear dictates to me and a sigh awakens me.

شُواهِدُ حُبِّي بَينَ جَفنَيَّ والحَشَا

شُواهِدُ حُبِّي بَينَ جَفنَيَّ والحَشَا

فَمِن عَبرَةٍ تُملِي ومن زَفرَةٍ تُنشِي

فَمِن عَبرَةٍ تُملِي ومن زَفرَةٍ تُنشِي

The witnesses to my love lie between my eyelids and my breast:

I was infatuated with a beloved I pine for the mention of, at the height of affliction, so I am healed but do not divulge.

a tear that dictates, and a sigh that composes.

My remedy is in his mirror, and death is below it, and there is no avoiding danger in the coat of mail.

شُغِفتُ بِمَحبُوبٍ أضَنُّ بِذِكرِهِ

شُغِفتُ بِمَحبُوبٍ أضَنُّ بِذِكرِهِ

عَلى غَايَةِ البَلوَى فَأشفِي ولا أفشٍِي

عَلى غَايَةِ البَلوَى فَأشفِي ولا أفشٍِي

I am smitten with a beloved whose name I jealously withhold,

I split for him my heart, my wrap, and my sight, out of passion, but after that who will pay me blood money?

even in utmost affliction: I find healing, yet disclose nothing.

I complained to him of ardour so I drew a draught, but this reminded me, finer than potsherds.

شَفائيَ فِي مَرآهُ والمَوتُ دُونَهُ

شَفائيَ فِي مَرآهُ والمَوتُ دُونَهُ

ولا بُدَّ في الدِّرياقِ مِن خَطَرِ الرُّقشِ

ولا بُدَّ في الدِّرياقِ مِن خَطَرِ الرُّقشِ

My cure lies in beholding him, but death stands in the way;

His love is my banner and his cloak is like it. So here I am, bitten, fleeing to a bite.

and no antidote is free from the peril of speckled snakes.

Powerful on my heart is the absence of love, and the board has no means of erasing the inscription.

شَقققتُ عليهِ القَلبَ والخِلبَ والحَشا

شَقققتُ عليهِ القَلبَ والخِلبَ والحَشا

غَراماً ومَن لِي بَعد ذَلِكَ بالأرشِ

غَراماً ومَن لِي بَعد ذَلِكَ بالأرشِ

For him I tore open my heart, my liver's membrane, and my entrails,

I occupied my soul and the tongue with his mention, so I cannot forget him, even if I were in the bier.

in passion—and who will secure me compensation after that?

I hated my life, and life is sweet, if the loved one is absent, so there is no good in living.

شَكَوتُ إِلَيهِ الوَجدَ فاعتضتُ صَبوَةً

شَكَوتُ إِلَيهِ الوَجدَ فاعتضتُ صَبوَةً

فَذَكّرني هذا أجَلُّ مِنَ الحَرشِ

فَذَكّرني هذا أجَلُّ مِنَ الحَرشِ

I complained to him of longing and received infatuation in return;

it reminded me: 'This is graver than lizard-baiting.'

شِعارِي هَوَاهُ والدِّثارُ كمِثلِهِ

شِعارِي هَوَاهُ والدِّثارُ كمِثلِهِ

فها أنا مٍِن لَدغٍ أفِرُّ إلى نَهشِ

فها أنا مٍِن لَدغٍ أفِرُّ إلى نَهشِ

Love of him is my inner garment, and my outer cloak is the same;

so here I am, fleeing from a sting into a bite.

شَديدٌ عَلى قلبي خُلُوٌّ مِن الهَوى

شَديدٌ عَلى قلبي خُلُوٌّ مِن الهَوى

ولا حِيلةٌ للَّوحِ في المَحوِ للنَّقشٍ

ولا حِيلةٌ للَّوحِ في المَحوِ للنَّقشٍ

To be empty of love weighs heavily on my heart;

and the tablet has no power to erase its engraving.

شَغَلتُ جَنَانِي واللِّسَانَ بذِكرِهِ

شَغَلتُ جَنَانِي واللِّسَانَ بذِكرِهِ

فَلَستُ بنَاسِيهِ ولَو كُنتُ في النَّعشِ

فَلَستُ بنَاسِيهِ ولَو كُنتُ في النَّعشِ

I have occupied my heart and tongue with remembrance of him;

so I will not forget him, even were I upon the bier.

شَنئتُ حَياتي والحياةُ لَذيذةٌ

شَنئتُ حَياتي والحياةُ لَذيذةٌ

إذا غابَ مَن نهوى فلا خَيرَ في العَيشِ

إذا غابَ مَن نهوى فلا خَيرَ في العَيشِ

I have come to loathe my life, though life is sweet:

when the one we love is absent, there is no good in living.