أَخْجَلْتَyou put to shame بِالثَّغْرِwith your mouth ثَنَايَاfront teeth of الأَقَاحْthe daisies
أَخْجَلْتَ بِالثَّغْرِ ثَنَايَا الأَقَاحْ
يَاO طُرَّةَforelock of الَّليْلِthe night وَوَجْهَand face of الصَّبَاحْthe morning
يَا طُرَّةَ الَّليْلِ وَوَجْهَ الصَّبَاحْ
With your mouth you have put the daisies' teeth to shame,
You have shamed the buds with your lips,
O forelock of night and face of morning!
O face of the night and dawn.
وَأَعْجَمَتْand made inarticulate أَعْيُنُكَyour eyes السِّحْرَmagic مُذْever since
وَأَعْجَمَتْ أَعْيُنُكَ السِّحْرَ مُذْ
أَعْرَبْتَyou made clear مِنْهُنَّthrough them الصِّفَاتِthe qualities الصِّحَاحْthe true ones
أَعْرَبْتَ مِنْهُنَّ الصِّفَاتِ الصِّحَاحْ
And your eyes have struck magic dumb, ever since
And your eyes have cast a spell,
You made the true qualities plain through them.
Uttering from them pure words.
فَياso, oh! لَهَاfor them سُودٌdark مِرَاضٌlanguid غَدَتْthey have become
فَيا لَهَا سُودٌ مِرَاضٌ غَدَتْ
نَسُلُّwe unsheathe لِلْعُشْاقِfor the lovers بِيضَwhite blades of الصَّباحْthe morning
نَسُلُّ لِلْعُشْاقِ بِيضَ الصَّباحْ
Ah, how dark and languid they have become!
So for it is the darkest of complexions
We unsheathe for lovers the white blades of morning.
That descended for lovers at dawn.
يِاO لِلْهَوَىfor love مِنْwhat a مُسْعِدٍsympathizer مُغَرَمٍlove-stricken
يِا لِلْهَوَى مِنْ مُسْعِدٍ مُغَرَمٍ
رَأَىhe saw حَمَامَdoves of الأَيْكِthe grove غَنَّىsang فَنَاحْso he wailed
رَأَى حَمَامَ الأَيْكِ غَنَّى فَنَاحْ
O love—what a lovesick sympathizer!
Oh what a lovesick, infatuated one,
He saw the grove's doves sing, and so he wailed.
Who saw the doves of the valley sing and take flight.
يَاO بَانَةًa bān-tree مَالَتْswayed بِأَعْطَافِهِwith his flanks
يَا بَانَةً مَالَتْ بِأَعْطَافِهِ
قَدْindeed عَلَّمَتْنِيshe taught me كَيْفَhow هَذَاthis الرِّمَاحْthe spears
قَدْ عَلَّمَتْنِي كَيْفَ هَذَا الرِّمَاحْ
O bān-tree that swayed with his flanks,
O she who leaned with her neck,
She has indeed taught me what these spears are like.
You have taught me how to throw this spear.
وًَأَنْتِand you يَاO أَسْهُمَarrows of أَلْحَاظِهِhis glances
وًَأَنْتِ يَا أَسْهُمَ أَلْحَاظِهِ
أَثْخَنْتِyou grievously wounded واللهby God فُؤَادِيmy heart جِرَاحْwounds
أَثْخَنْتِ والله فُؤَادِي جِرَاحْ
And you, O arrows of his glances,
And you, O most fatal of his glances,
You have, by God, riddled my heart with wounds.
You have, by God, wounded my heart with gashes.
Sol 6.1