أَنْتَyou الحَبِيبُthe beloved وَإِنْand even if سَلَبْتَyou stole رُقَادِيmy sleep
أَنْتَ الحَبِيبُ وَإِنْ سَلَبْتَ رُقَادِي
وأَطْعْتَand you heeded فِيَّagainst me تَعَرُّضَthe interference of الحُسَّادِthe envious
وأَطْعْتَ فِيَّ تَعَرُّضَ الحُسَّادِ
You are the beloved, even if you have stolen my sleep
And heeded the envious in their attacks on me.
لاَmay ... not كَانَexist قَلْبٌa heart ضَلَّwent astray فِيكَin you بِوَجْدِهِthrough its passion
لاَ كَانَ قَلْبٌ ضَلَّ فِيكَ بِوَجْدِهِ
إِنْif مَالit turns عَنْكَaway from you إِلىtoward هُدَىًguidance ورَشَادِand right conduct
إِنْ مَال عَنْكَ إِلى هُدَىً ورَشَادِ
May a heart lost in passion for you cease to be,
If it turns from you toward guidance and right conduct.
مَلَكَتْpossessed خُدُودُكَyour cheeks أَسْوَدَيَّmy two dark ones (eye and heart) فَمَاؤُهَاso their water
مَلَكَتْ خُدُودُكَ أَسْوَدَيَّ فَمَاؤُهَا
مِنْfrom مُقْلَتِيmy eye وَلَهيبُهَاand their flame بِفُؤَادِيin my heart
مِنْ مُقْلَتِي وَلَهيبُهَا بِفُؤَادِي
Your cheeks rule my two dark ones—eye and heart; so their water
Comes from my eye, and their flame is in my heart.
وَاah! رَحْمَتَاهُwhat pity! لِمُقْلَةٍfor an eye بِدُموُعِهَاin its tears
وَا رَحْمَتَاهُ لِمُقْلَةٍ بِدُموُعِهَا
غَرْقَىdrowned وَنَاظِرُهَاand its pupil لِوَجْهِكَfor your face صَادِيthirsty
غَرْقَى وَنَاظِرُهَا لِوَجْهِكَ صَادِي
Ah, pity an eye that in its own tears
Is drowned, while its pupil thirsts for your face.
قَسَماًI swear بِسَالِفِby the bygone days of عيشَةٍa life سَلَفَتْthat passed لَنَاfor us
قَسَماً بِسَالِفِ عيشَةٍ سَلَفَتْ لَنَا
بِسُلاَفَةٍwith choice wine أَوْor شَادِنٍa young gazelle أَوْor شَادِيa singer
بِسُلاَفَةٍ أَوْ شَادِنٍ أَوْ شَادِي
I swear by the bygone life that once was ours,
With choice wine, or a young gazelle, or a singer,
وَبِطيِبِand by the sweetness of لَيْلاَتِthe nights of العَقِيقِal-Aqiq وَمَاand what جَنَتْwrought
وَبِطيِبِ لَيْلاَتِ العَقِيقِ وَمَا جَنَتْ
تِلْكَthose الظِبَاءُthe gazelles بهِin it عَلىupon الآسَادِthe lions
تِلْكَ الظِبَاءُ بهِ عَلى الآسَادِ
And by the sweetness of al-Aqiq’s nights, and the harm wrought
There by those gazelles upon the lions:
لاَnot حِلْتُI turned away عَنْfrom وَادِيthe valley of الاُثَيْلِal-Uthayl بَسَلْوَةٍthrough consolation
لاَ حِلْتُ عَنْ وَادِي الاُثَيْلِ بَسَلْوَةٍ
تُنْسِيthat makes one forget عُهُودَthe pledges of أُهَيْلِthe dear folk of ذَاكَthat الوَادِيthe valley
تُنْسِي عُهُودَ أُهَيْلِ ذَاكَ الوَادِي
Never shall I forsake the valley of al-Uthayl for a solace
That makes me forget the pledges of that valley’s dear folk—
حَيٌّa clan بهِthrough them مَاتَhas died السُّلُوُforgetfulness of love أَمَاdo ... not تَرَىyou see
حَيٌّ بهِ مَاتَ السُّلُوُ أَمَا تَرَى
لُبْسَthe wearing الجُفُونِby the eyelids عَلَيهِfor it ثَوْبَa robe of حِدَادِmourning
لُبْسَ الجُفُونِ عَلَيهِ ثَوْبَ حِدَادِ
A clan through whom forgetfulness has died—do you not see
The eyelids wearing a robe of mourning for it?
وَمُحَجَّبٍand a veiled one مَاnot الوَجْدُpassion فِيهِfor him مُحَجَّباًveiled
وَمُحَجَّبٍ مَا الوَجْدُ فِيهِ مُحَجَّباً
عَنْfrom عَاذِليِّmy reprovers وَلاَnor التَّصَبُّرُforbearance بَادِيapparent
عَنْ عَاذِليِّ وَلاَ التَّصَبُّرُ بَادِي
And a veiled one—my passion for him is not veiled
From my reprovers, nor is my forbearance apparent.
مَهْمَاwhenever انْثَىhe sways فَأَنَاthen I am الطَّعِينُthe pierced one بِقَامَةٍby a figure
مَهْمَا انْثَى فَأَنَا الطَّعِينُ بِقَامَةٍ
هَيْفَاءَslender-waisted تَهْزَأَُmocks بِالقَنَاat the spears المَيَّادِswaying
هَيْفَاءَ تَهْزَأَُ بِالقَنَا المَيَّادِ
Whenever he sways, I am pierced by a figure
Slender-waisted, mocking the swaying spears.
وَإِذَاand when رَنَاhe gazes فَأَنَأthen I am القَتِيلُthe slain one بِمُقْلَةٍby an eye
وَإِذَا رَنَا فَأَنَأ القَتِيلُ بِمُقْلَةٍ
نَجْلاَءَwide أمضkeener مِنْthan حُدُودِthe edges of حِدَادِsharp blades
نَجْلاَءَ أمض مِنْ حُدُودِ حِدَادِ
And when he gazes, I am slain by an eye
Wide, keener than the edges of sharp blades.
Sol 6.1