أَذكيت حَر الجَوى وَاللَيل قَد بَرَدا

أَذكيت حَر الجَوى وَاللَيل قَد بَرَدا

يا بارِقاً حَرك الأَشواق ثُم هَدا

يا بارِقاً حَرك الأَشواق ثُم هَدا

You kindled the heat of love's anguish while the night had grown cold,

I kindled the heat of fervor, and the night had cooled,

O lightning flash that stirred longings, then fell still.

O you who stirred up passions, then calmed!

أَضرمت نار اِشتياق لَم تَكُن خَمَدَت

أَضرمت نار اِشتياق لَم تَكُن خَمَدَت

فَاِنهل وَاكف دَمع لَم يَكُن جمدا

فَاِنهل وَاكف دَمع لَم يَكُن جمدا

You set ablaze a fire of yearning that had not gone out,

I lit a fire of yearning that had not been extinguished,

and streaming tears poured forth that had not ceased to flow.

So draw water and restrain tears that were not frozen.

يا حاكم الحُب لا زالَت أَوامِرَهُ

يا حاكم الحُب لا زالَت أَوامِرَهُ

في الناس نافِذَةً إِن جارَ أَو قَصَدا

في الناس نافِذَةً إِن جارَ أَو قَصَدا

O ruler of love, may his decrees ever remain

O ruler of love - your commands

binding among people, whether he wrongs or acts justly.

Are still carried out among people, whether he intends or aims.

هَل في شَريعتَك الغَرّاء يا حكمي

هَل في شَريعتَك الغَرّاء يا حكمي

إِن لا أَزال جَليس الهَم مُنفَرِدا

إِن لا أَزال جَليس الهَم مُنفَرِدا

Is it in your radiant law, O my arbiter,

Is it in your noble law, O my wise one,

that I remain forever sorrow's solitary companion?

That I do not cease to be the companion of cares, alone?

أَم في الهَوى إِنَّ مِن عفت سَرائِرَهُ

أَم في الهَوى إِنَّ مِن عفت سَرائِرَهُ

يَجفي وَإِن لا يُلاقي لِلجَفا أَمَدا

يَجفي وَإِن لا يُلاقي لِلجَفا أَمَدا

Or does love decree that one whose inner thoughts are chaste

Or is it in passion - that he who guards its mysteries

be shunned, and find no end to estrangement?

Would dry up, even if he does not find dryness lasting?

إِن جازَ هَذا فَهَل في الحُب سَفك دَمي

إِن جازَ هَذا فَهَل في الحُب سَفك دَمي

بِغَير ذَنب وَلا عَقل وَلا قودا

بِغَير ذَنب وَلا عَقل وَلا قودا

If this is allowed, may my blood be shed in love

If this is allowed, then in love, is my blood shed

for no offense, with neither blood-money nor retribution?

Without sin, reason, or punishment?

وَهَبَت روحي لِمَن أَمسى يُعذِبُها

وَهَبَت روحي لِمَن أَمسى يُعذِبُها

وَجانب البُخل مَن أَعطى الحَمام يَدا

وَجانب البُخل مَن أَعطى الحَمام يَدا

I gave my soul to one who has come to torment it,

And my soul was granted to one who makes it suffer at night,

and whoever gives death his hand has shunned miserliness.

And deprives of stinginess one who gave his hand to the doves.

أعلم فَديتك يا مَن صَد عَن دَنف

أعلم فَديتك يا مَن صَد عَن دَنف

لا يَعرف الدَهر إِلّا الحُزن وَالكَمدا

لا يَعرف الدَهر إِلّا الحُزن وَالكَمدا

Know—may I be your ransom, you who shun a lovesick man

I know, my ransom is you, O you who turned away from pleasure,

who knows, all his days, only sorrow and anguish—

Who knows nothing of fate but sadness and frowning.

إِذا تَنَعمت إِني مِنكَ في كَرب

إِذا تَنَعمت إِني مِنكَ في كَرب

وَحينَ تَرقُد إِن الصَب ما هَجَدا

وَحينَ تَرقُد إِن الصَب ما هَجَدا

that when you live in ease, I am in distress because of you,

When you feel comfort, I am in distress because of you,

and when you sleep, the lovesick lover has not slept.

And when you sleep, wakefulness has not calmed.

بَراهُ صَدّك حَتّى قالَ عوَّدهُ

بَراهُ صَدّك حَتّى قالَ عوَّدهُ

إِذا لَم يَدَع مِنهُ فَرط السُقم غَير صَدا

إِذا لَم يَدَع مِنهُ فَرط السُقم غَير صَدا

Your rejection wasted him until his visitors said,

Abstinence made him get used to it, until he said

when excessive sickness left nothing of him but an echo:

“If the excess illness did not spare him anything but avoidance.”

أَنّا لَنسمع مِن تِلقاءِ مَضجَعِهِ

أَنّا لَنسمع مِن تِلقاءِ مَضجَعِهِ

أَنين صَبٍّ وَلَكن لا نَرى أَحَدا

أَنين صَبٍّ وَلَكن لا نَرى أَحَدا

“We surely hear, from the direction of his bed,

We hear from his bedside

a lovesick lover's moan, yet we see no one.”

The moaning of one who yearns, but we see no one.

مَلّ الحَياة وَملتهُ عَوائِدُهُ

مَلّ الحَياة وَملتهُ عَوائِدُهُ

فَلَو يُباح لَهُ وَرد الرَدى وَردا

فَلَو يُباح لَهُ وَرد الرَدى وَردا

He has tired of life, and his visitors have tired of him;

He is tired of life and its habits tire him,

if he were allowed to drink of death, he would drink.

If only he were allowed to return to destruction and return.

أَرى الهَوى واحِداً في نَفسِهِ وَأَرى

أَرى الهَوى واحِداً في نَفسِهِ وَأَرى

طَرائق الحَتف في سُبل الهَوى قَددا

طَرائق الحَتف في سُبل الهَوى قَددا

I see that love is one in essence, yet I see

I see love as one in itself and I see

the paths of death along love's ways are manifold.

The ways of destiny on the paths of passion as many.

بَليت في حُب مِن حَبيبهِ برّح بي

بَليت في حُب مِن حَبيبهِ برّح بي

بِغيرة لَم تَدَع لي في الهَوى جَلدا

بِغيرة لَم تَدَع لي في الهَوى جَلدا

I was afflicted in loving one whose beloved tormented me

I have been tested in the love of one whose lover was hard on me

with jealousy that left me no endurance in love.

With jealousy that did not leave me any composure in love.

أَجفو الرقاد وَقَد نامَ الوَرى جَزَعاً

أَجفو الرقاد وَقَد نامَ الوَرى جَزَعاً

من أَن يَرى طَيفُهُ في النَوم مَن رَقَدا

من أَن يَرى طَيفُهُ في النَوم مَن رَقَدا

I shun sleep, though all the world has slept, in dread

I resisted sleep while creation slept in panic

lest his phantom see, in dreams, anyone who sleeps.

That one who slept might see his phantom in a dream.

لا بَل أَغارَ عَلَيهِ إِن تمثلهُ ال

لا بَل أَغارَ عَلَيهِ إِن تمثلهُ ال

أَفكار أَو تَتَمناهُ وَإِن بَعدا

أَفكار أَو تَتَمناهُ وَإِن بَعدا

No, rather I am jealous over him if he is pictured by

But no - he was jealous of him if fantasies represent him

thoughts, or longed for by them, even though he is far away.

Or if thoughts wish for him even if he is far away.

بَل ما رَأَيت عُيون الناس ترمقهُ

بَل ما رَأَيت عُيون الناس ترمقهُ

إِلّا تَمنيت إِني لَم أَكُن أَبَدا

إِلّا تَمنيت إِني لَم أَكُن أَبَدا

Indeed, never have I seen people's eyes gaze at him

But I have not seen people's eyes glance at him

without wishing that I had never existed.

Without wishing I had never existed.

قَد تيم الظَبي مِنهُ سحر مُقلَتِهِ

قَد تيم الظَبي مِنهُ سحر مُقلَتِهِ

فَهامَ في حُبِهِ مِن حَر ما وَجَدا

فَهامَ في حُبِهِ مِن حَر ما وَجَدا

The magic of his eye has enslaved the gazelle,

The gazelle was infatuated with the magic of his glances,

which wandered mad with love for him, burning with what it felt.

So it loved him passionately from the heat it found.

وَمُنذُ أَبصَرَ وَرد الرَوض وَجنَتُهُ

وَمُنذُ أَبصَرَ وَرد الرَوض وَجنَتُهُ

بَدا الذُبول عَلى أَوراقِهِ حَسَدا

بَدا الذُبول عَلى أَوراقِهِ حَسَدا

And since the garden rose beheld his cheek,

And since the garden’s rose saw his cheek,

withering has appeared upon its petals out of envy.

Withering appeared on its petals out of envy.

لَم يَذكُروا عِندَ خوط البان قامَتُهُ

لَم يَذكُروا عِندَ خوط البان قامَتُهُ

إِلّا وَمالَ مِن الأَشواق أَو سَجَدا

إِلّا وَمالَ مِن الأَشواق أَو سَجَدا

Never did they mention his stature before a ban-tree shoot

They did not mention his stature by the lines of separation

but it swayed with longing or fell in prostration.

Without him leaning by yearning or bowing down in prostration.

يا فِتنَة أَلحاظك المرضى عَلى كَبدي

يا فِتنَة أَلحاظك المرضى عَلى كَبدي

فَفتقت كَبدي الحَرّا فَواكبدا

فَفتقت كَبدي الحَرّا فَواكبدا

Oh, the spell of your languid glances upon my liver!

O temptation - your ailing glances tore my liver,

It tore my burning liver open—alas, my liver!

So they ripped my hot liver, so endure!

قَد ضاقَ قَلبيَ بِالوَجد المُذيبِ لَهُ

قَد ضاقَ قَلبيَ بِالوَجد المُذيبِ لَهُ

فَلو أَرادَ مَزيداً مِنهُ ما وَجَدا

فَلو أَرادَ مَزيداً مِنهُ ما وَجَدا

My heart is cramped with the passion that melts it;

My heart was too narrow for the melting fervor within it,

so if it sought more of it, it would find none.

So if he wanted more of it, he would not have found any.

لَو إِن ما بي بِماءِ المَزن لانعَقَدا

لَو إِن ما بي بِماءِ المَزن لانعَقَدا

أَو بِالهَواءِ وَلَو معشاره اِتَقَدا

أَو بِالهَواءِ وَلَو معشاره اِتَقَدا

If what is in me were in rain-cloud water, it would congeal;

If I was made of rain water I would have solidified,

or in the air—even a tenth of it—it would blaze.

Or by air - even if a bit of me had ignited!

أَو كانَ شَوقي بِأَهل الكَهف ما رَقَدوا

أَو كانَ شَوقي بِأَهل الكَهف ما رَقَدوا

وَما رَأَوا فيهِ إِلّا الفكر وَالسُهدا

وَما رَأَوا فيهِ إِلّا الفكر وَالسُهدا

Or had the People of the Cave felt my longing, they would not have slept,

Or if my passion was with the People of the Cave, they would not have slept

and would have known there only brooding and sleeplessness.

And they would not have seen in it anything but thinking and keeping still.

استنجد الصَبر وَالأَشواقُ تَهزمهُ

استنجد الصَبر وَالأَشواقُ تَهزمهُ

وَأَمترى مَدمَعي وَالدَمعُ قَد نَفَدا

وَأَمترى مَدمَعي وَالدَمعُ قَد نَفَدا

I call on patience for aid, while longings rout it,

Fervor sought help from patience but defeats it

and milk my tear-duct, though the tears have run dry.

And do I see my tears, while tears are all gone?

مِن العَليل قَضى ظُلماً بِعِلَتِهِ

مِن العَليل قَضى ظُلماً بِعِلَتِهِ

وَحَرُّ أَشواقِهِ الوَقّاد ما بَرَدا

وَحَرُّ أَشواقِهِ الوَقّاد ما بَرَدا

From the sick man who died unjustly of his illness,

The suffering one unjustly died of his illness

while the blazing heat of his longings has not cooled.

And the burning heat of his passion did not cool down.