حَرُّ قَلبي مِن بَرد ريق شَهيِّ

حَرُّ قَلبي مِن بَرد ريق شَهيِّ

وَجُنوني بِوَرد خَدٍّ جَنيِّ

وَجُنوني بِوَرد خَدٍّ جَنيِّ

My heart's burning comes from the coolness of luscious saliva,

My heart is hot from the cold saliva of a rosy cheeked beloved

And my madness from the rose of a ripe cheek.

And my madness is from a rose on her cheek

وَعنايَ مِن العُيون وَبلبا

وَعنايَ مِن العُيون وَبلبا

لِيَ مِن سحر ناظر بابليِّ

لِيَ مِن سحر ناظر بابليِّ

And my suffering comes from the eyes, and my turmoil

And care from eyes and glances

From the spell of a Babylonian gaze.

I have from the magic of an enchanting Babylonian gazer

مِن دَمي شاهد يَسيل عَلى خَدّ

مِن دَمي شاهد يَسيل عَلى خَدّ

يهِ مِن سَيف لَحظِهِ الهِنديِّ

يهِ مِن سَيف لَحظِهِ الهِنديِّ

My blood bears witness, flowing over his cheeks,

From my blood a witness flows on my cheek

From the Indian sword of his glance.

From the sword of her Indian glance's strike

وَعَذابي ماء النَعيم الَّذي را

وَعَذابي ماء النَعيم الَّذي را

قَ عَلى جَمر وَجنَتَيهِ النَديِّ

قَ عَلى جَمر وَجنَتَيهِ النَديِّ

And my torment is the water of bliss that gleams clear

And my torment is the water of bliss which flowed

Upon the dewy embers of his cheeks.

On embers and its fiery cheeks

وَرَحيقي الرِضاب في فَمِهِ المَس

وَرَحيقي الرِضاب في فَمِهِ المَس

كيّ يَجري في كَأسِهِ الدَريِّ

كيّ يَجري في كَأسِهِ الدَريِّ

And my nectar is the sweet saliva in his musky mouth,

And my wine is the kisses in her mouth

Flowing in his pearly cup.

Flowing in her precious cup

مُتُّ سُكراً يا وَيح نَفسي وَلَم بَر

مُتُّ سُكراً يا وَيح نَفسي وَلَم بَر

وَ غَليلي مِن رِيقِهِ الخَمريِ

وَ غَليلي مِن رِيقِهِ الخَمريِ

I died drunk—alas for my soul!—yet there was no quenching

I die intoxicated, oh how my soul laments, but

Of my burning thirst with his wine-like saliva.

My agony is from her wine-like saliva

لَم يَزَل يَشتَكي فُؤادي لَهيباً

لَم يَزَل يَشتَكي فُؤادي لَهيباً

مُذ سَقَيتُ الهَوى بِكَأس رَويِّ

مُذ سَقَيتُ الهَوى بِكَأس رَويِّ

My heart has not ceased complaining of a blaze

My heart has not stopped complaining of a blaze

Since I watered love with a thirst-quenching cup.

Since I quenched passion with a cup of a water-drawing beauty

مِن مُجيري مِن سَحر طَرف بَغيِّ

مِن مُجيري مِن سَحر طَرف بَغيِّ

سَلَّ رَوحي مِني بِوَحي خَفيِّ

سَلَّ رَوحي مِني بِوَحي خَفيِّ

Who will shelter me from the spell of a cruel eye

To rescue me from the spell of a rebellious glance

That drew my soul from me by a secret signal?

That stole my soul with a secret revelation

لَحظُهُ فاتك مُريب وَلَكن

لَحظُهُ فاتك مُريب وَلَكن

لِفُتور الجُفون عُذر البَريِّ

لِفُتور الجُفون عُذر البَريِّ

His glance is murderous and suspect, yet

Her glances missed you, suspicious one, but

His languid eyelids have an innocent one's excuse.

The heaviness of eyelids is the excuse of the innocent

أَيُّها المُعرض الَّذي صَد عَني

أَيُّها المُعرض الَّذي صَد عَني

وَجَفاني لِقَول واش فَريِّ

وَجَفاني لِقَول واش فَريِّ

O you who turn away, who have shunned me,

Oh you who turned away from me

And spurned me because of a lying talebearer's words,

And deserted me for the words of a slandering spy

أَشتَكي مِنكَ أَم إِلَيكَ وَهَل يَر

أَشتَكي مِنكَ أَم إِلَيكَ وَهَل يَر

ثي لِحال الشَجيّ قَلب الخَليّ

ثي لِحال الشَجيّ قَلب الخَليّ

Should I complain of you, or to you? And does

Should I complain of you or to you, and will it bene

A carefree heart pity the lovesick one's plight?

fit the state of a wounded heart?

هَل سَبيل إِلى رِضاك أَو الصَب

هَل سَبيل إِلى رِضاك أَو الصَب

ر وَإِلّا إِلى الحمام الوَحيِّ

ر وَإِلّا إِلى الحمام الوَحيِّ

Is there a way to your favor, or to patience,

Is there a way to your approval or patience

Or, failing that, to swift death?

Otherwise, to the lost pigeons