ثَوَىsettled لَكَfor you فِيin قَلْبِيmy heart غَرَامُpassion مُبَرِّحٌagonizing
ثَوَى لَكَ فِي قَلْبِي غَرَامُ مُبَرِّحٌ
إِرَاقَتُهُits outpouring فِيin حَبَّةِthe core of القَلْبِthe heart تَنْفُثُbreathes out
إِرَاقَتُهُ فِي حَبَّةِ القَلْبِ تَنْفُثُ
For you there dwells within my heart a tormenting passion;
An agonizing passion for you has settled in my heart.
Its outpouring breathes into the heart’s very core.
Its outpouring breathes within the heart's core.
ثَبَاتِيmy steadfastness عَلىin هَذَاthis الهَوَىthe passion غَيْرُnot مُمْكِنٍpossible
ثَبَاتِي عَلى هَذَا الهَوَى غَيْرُ مُمْكِنٍ
وَمِثْلِىand one like me عَلىin مِثْلِthe like of الهَوَىthe passion لَيْسَdoes not يَمْكُثُremain
وَمِثْلِى عَلى مِثْلِ الهَوَى لَيْسَ يَمْكُثُ
My remaining constant in this love is impossible,
My steadfastness in this passion is impossible,
Nor does one like me endure a passion such as this.
and one like me does not persist in a passion like this.
ثَمِلْتُI grew drunk وَلَمْand did not أَمْدُدْstretch out يَميِناًa right hand لِقَهْوَةٍtoward wine
ثَمِلْتُ وَلَمْ أَمْدُدْ يَميِناً لِقَهْوَةٍ
وَلاَand no رَاحَwine إِلاَّexcept الحُبُّlove بِالْقَلْبِwith the heart يَعْبَثُtoys
وَلاَ رَاحَ إِلاَّ الحُبُّ بِالْقَلْبِ يَعْبَثُ
I grew drunk, though I never stretched out a hand for wine;
I grew drunk, though I never stretched my right hand toward wine,
No wine but love plays havoc with the heart.
and there is no wine but love, which toys with the heart.
ثَنَيْتُI turned عَنَانَthe rein of الحًبِّlove نَحْوَكَtoward you والرِّضَىand contentment
ثَنَيْتُ عَنَانَ الحًبِّ نَحْوَكَ والرِّضَى
وَنَارُand the fire of الأَسَىsorrow بَيْنَbetween الضُّلُوعِthe ribs تُؤَرَّثُis kindled
وَنَارُ الأَسَى بَيْنَ الضُّلُوعِ تُؤَرَّثُ
I turned love’s reins toward you, willingly,
I turned the reins of love toward you and contentment,
While sorrow’s fire is kindled among my ribs.
while sorrow's fire is kindled between my ribs.
ثَوَابُthe reward of الهَوَىpassion لَوْif أَسْعَدَfavored الحُبُّlove وَقْفَةٌa pause
ثَوَابُ الهَوَى لَوْ أَسْعَدَ الحُبُّ وَقْفَةٌ
يُحَدِّثُنِيhe speaks to me فِيin ظِلِّهَاits shade وَأْحَدِّثُand I speak
يُحَدِّثُنِي فِي ظِلِّهَا وَأْحَدِّثُ
Passion’s reward—if love should grant me joy—would be one moment
Passion's reward, if love favored me, would be a moment's pause,
In whose shade it speaks with me, and I speak with it.
in whose shade he would speak to me, and I would speak.
ثَرَائِيmy wealth وَجَاهِيand my rank فِيهِin it وَحْدٌsolitude وَأَدْمُعٌand tears
ثَرَائِي وَجَاهِي فِيهِ وَحْدٌ وَأَدْمُعٌ
فَقَلْبيَso my heart فِيin الحَالَيِنِboth states ضَاحٍexposed to the sun وَمُدْمِثُand soft
فَقَلْبيَ فِي الحَالَيِنِ ضَاحٍ وَمُدْمِثُ
My wealth and standing in love are solitude and tears;
My wealth and rank in it are solitude and tears,
Thus in both states my heart is sun-bared and rain-soaked.
so in both states my heart is bare to the sun and tender.
ثَقِيلُheavy الأَسَىsorrow عِنْدِيto me خَفِيفٌlight لأَجْلِهِfor his sake
ثَقِيلُ الأَسَى عِنْدِي خَفِيفٌ لأَجْلِهِ
فَهَاso here أَنَاI فِيin وَجْدِيmy longing بِهِto him أَتَشَبَّثُI cling
فَهَا أَنَا فِي وَجْدِي بِهِ أَتَشَبَّثُ
Sorrow, though heavy, is light to me for his sake;
Heavy sorrow is light to me for his sake,
Here I am, clinging to him in my rapture.
so here I am, in my longing, clinging to him.
ثَلَمْتَyou broke فُؤَادِيmy heart بِالنَّوىَwith separation فَجَبَرْتُهُso I mended it
ثَلَمْتَ فُؤَادِي بِالنَّوىَ فَجَبَرْتُهُ
بِصبْرٍwith patience بِهِby it أَبْرَمْتُI twisted tight مَاwhat أَنْتَyou تَنْكُثُyou unravel
بِصبْرٍ بِهِ أَبْرَمْتُ مَا أَنْتَ تَنْكُثُ
You breached my heart with separation, and I mended it
You broke my heart with separation, so I mended it
With patience, binding by it what you unravel.
with patience, by which I twisted tight what you unravel.
ثَكِلْتُmay I be bereft of فُؤَادِيmy heart إِنْif تَأَلَّمْتُI suffer pain لِلأَسَىَfrom sorrow
ثَكِلْتُ فُؤَادِي إِنْ تَأَلَّمْتُ لِلأَسَىَ
عَلَىdespite عِلْمِيmy knowledge أَنَّthat الحَوَادِثَcalamities تَحْدُثُoccur
عَلَى عِلْمِي أَنَّ الحَوَادِثَ تَحْدُثُ
May I be bereft of my heart if I suffer on account of sorrow,
May I be bereft of my heart if I suffer from sorrow,
Though I know that misfortunes occur.
though I know that calamities come to pass.
ثَنَاؤُكَpraise of you رَيْحَانِيmy sweet basil وَذِكْرُكَand remembrance of you رَاحَتِيmy repose
ثَنَاؤُكَ رَيْحَانِي وَذِكْرُكَ رَاحَتِي
وَحُبُّكَand love for you سُلْوَانِيmy consolation إِلَىuntil يَوْمِthe day أَبْعَثُI am raised again
وَحُبُّكَ سُلْوَانِي إِلَى يَوْمِ أَبْعَثُ
Your praise is my sweet basil, and your remembrance my repose;
Praise of you is my sweet basil, and remembrance of you my repose,
Your love is my consolation until the day I am raised.
and love for you is my consolation until the day I am raised again.
Sol 6.1