قَريحwounded القَلبthe heart موثقهُwith it fettered
قَريح القَلب موثقهُ
هَمولcopiously flowing الدَمعthe tears مطلقهُwith them unrestrained
هَمول الدَمع مطلقهُ
His heart is wounded and fettered;
The inspiration of the heart in fetters
his tears pour copiously, unrestrained.
Its tears unrestrained
يَكفكفhe wipes away مِنfrom سَوافِحِهِhis streaming tears
يَكفكف مِن سَوافِحِهِ
سَوابقهاtheir first drops وَتَسبقهُand they outpace him
سَوابقها وَتَسبقهُ
He wipes away, from his streaming tears,
It curbs its torrents
their first drops, yet they outpace him.
Outpacing its predecessors
وَأَغيدand a graceful youth لَمdid not يَدَعleave بِالصَدby shunning
وَأَغيد لَم يَدَع بِالصَد
ليfor me صَبراًpatience فَانفقهُso I may spend it
لي صَبراً فَانفقهُ
And a graceful youth, by shunning me, left
Nothing left of patience or composure
me no patience to spend.
Every tear uncontained
وَلاnor تَركleft البُكاweeping دَمعاًa tear
وَلا تَرك البُكا دَمعاً
لِأَجفانيfor my eyelids أُرقرقهُI make it shimmer
لِأَجفاني أُرقرقهُ
Nor has weeping left a tear
His beautiful face could melt
for me to make shimmer on my eyelids.
With its grace and charm
لَهُhe has وَجهa face لِنَضرَتِهِbecause of its freshness
لَهُ وَجه لِنَضرَتِهِ
يَكادalmost يَسيلflows رَونَقَهُits radiance
يَكاد يَسيل رَونَقَهُ
He has a face so fresh
A tormentor, eternally cruel
that its radiance almost flows.
I love him though he tortures me
ظَلومcruel لَمdid not يَزَلcease أَبَداًever
ظَلوم لَم يَزَل أَبَداً
يُعَذِبُنيhe torments me وَأعشقَهُand I adore him
يُعَذِبُني وَأعشقَهُ
Cruel, he has never ceased
Melting the coldness of my heart
tormenting me, yet I adore him.
When he speaks life into it
تَذيبmelts القَلبthe heart جُفوَتَهُhis coldness
تَذيب القَلب جُفوَتَهُ
إِذاwhenever أَحياهُrevives it مَنطِقهُhis speech
إِذا أَحياهُ مَنطِقهُ
His coldness melts the heart
I say, though misery tears my heart
whenever his speech revives it.
None can mend its tatters
أَقولI say وَقَدand already تَقاضانيhas demanded of me الthe
أَقول وَقَد تَقاضاني ال
أَسىsorrow قَلباًa heart يَحرّقهُburns it
أَسى قَلباً يَحرّقهُ
I say, as I am pressed by
Save he who can restore
sorrow for a heart it can burn:
My shattered spirit
إِلّاexcept مَنwho ليfor me بِقَلبwith a heart يَشتَفيfinds satisfaction
إِلّا مَن لي بِقَلب يَشتَفي
مِنهُfrom it ممزقهُthe one who tears it apart
مِنهُ ممزقهُ
But who can give me a heart to satisfy
the one who tears it apart?
Partial English translation: 16 of 18 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1