يُحار الطَرف في دَلٍ عَجيبِ

يُحار الطَرف في دَلٍ عَجيبِ

يَهزك هَزة الغُصن الرَطيبِ

يَهزك هَزة الغُصن الرَطيبِ

The gaze is bewildered by a wondrous coquetry

The eyes are lost in your charming allure,

that sways you with the sway of a supple bough.

Swayed by the gentle shaking of your branch.

فَيرجَع مَن يَراك بِقَلب صَب

فَيرجَع مَن يَراك بِقَلب صَب

وَمُقلَة ساهر باكٍ كَئيبِ

وَمُقلَة ساهر باكٍ كَئيبِ

So whoever sees you returns with a lovesick heart,

Whoever sees you returns with a melting heart,

and the eye of one sleepless, weeping, and forlorn.

And sleepless, weeping eyes full of sorrow.

أَسحرٌ ما بِطَرفك أَم حُسامٌ

أَسحرٌ ما بِطَرفك أَم حُسامٌ

يَسلُّ عَلى القُلوب بِلا ذُنوب

يَسلُّ عَلى القُلوب بِلا ذُنوب

Is what is in your gaze sorcery, or a keen sword

Is there magic in your eyes or swords

unsheathed against hearts that have done no wrong?

That pierce hearts without sin?

وَوَردٌ ما بِخَدك أَم دِماءٌ

وَوَردٌ ما بِخَدك أَم دِماءٌ

سَفكت بِصارم اللَحظ الغَضوب

سَفكت بِصارم اللَحظ الغَضوب

And is what is on your cheek a rose, or blood

Are your cheeks roses or blood

you spilled with the blade of your wrathful glance?

Spilt by the angry glance of your sword?

تَصون لِشَقوَتي بَرد الثَنايا

تَصون لِشَقوَتي بَرد الثَنايا

مَخافة أَن يُذيب فَمِن مُذيبي

مَخافة أَن يُذيب فَمِن مُذيبي

You guard, to my misery, the hail of your front teeth,

Your cool cheeks guard against my misery,

for fear it might melt me—then who is it that melts me

Fearing my hot sighs will melt them.

بِما في وَجنَتيكَ وَما بِقَلبي

بِما في وَجنَتيكَ وَما بِقَلبي

مِن الجَمر المُنَدى وَاللَهيبِ

مِن الجَمر المُنَدى وَاللَهيبِ

with what is in your cheeks and what is in my heart:

With the embers in your cheeks and the flames in my heart,

dew-moistened embers and flame?

Give me a sip from your mouth one day,

أَنلني رَشفة مِن فيك يَوماً

أَنلني رَشفة مِن فيك يَوماً

لِيُطفيءَ بَردَها بَعض الَّذي بي

لِيُطفيءَ بَردَها بَعض الَّذي بي

Grant me, one day, a sip from your mouth,

To extinguish some of the fire within me.

so its coolness may quench some of what ails me.

It pains me for your beauty to appear openly,

يَعزُّ عَلَيَّ أَن يَبدو جَهاراً

يَعزُّ عَلَيَّ أَن يَبدو جَهاراً

جَمالك لِلعُيون وَلِلقُلوب

جَمالك لِلعُيون وَلِلقُلوب

It grieves me that it should appear openly—

For eyes and hearts to see.

your beauty—to eyes and hearts.

And it hurts me when fanciful hopes

وَيُؤلِمُني بان تَدَني الأَماني

وَيُؤلِمُني بان تَدَني الأَماني

خَيالَكَ مِن أَخي أَمل كَذوب

خَيالَكَ مِن أَخي أَمل كَذوب

And it pains me that wishes should draw

Bring me your image, my dear illusion.

your image near a brother of deceitful hope.

May God favor the eye that implores

أَقَرَّ اللَهُ عَيناً ما أَلحت

أَقَرَّ اللَهُ عَيناً ما أَلحت

عَلى خَديكَ بِالنَظَر المُريب

عَلى خَديكَ بِالنَظَر المُريب

May God gladden an eye that has not persisted

Your cheek with a coveting glance,

in casting a suspect gaze upon your cheeks,

And bless the mind that contains

وَكَرّم خاطِراً لَم يَجرِ فيهِ

وَكَرّم خاطِراً لَم يَجرِ فيهِ

مني إِلّا حَديثك مِن قَريب

مني إِلّا حَديثك مِن قَريب

and honor a mind in which nothing has passed

Nothing of you but nearby words.

from me, save talk of you of late.

One day, time's stinginess will fade

تَرى الدَهر البَخيل يَجود يَوماً

تَرى الدَهر البَخيل يَجود يَوماً

فَيَسمح بِاللقاءِ بِلا رَقيب

فَيَسمح بِاللقاءِ بِلا رَقيب

Will miserly Time, do you think, be generous one day,

And allow us to meet with no guard.

and allow a meeting with no watcher,

You will listen as I complain of my torment,

وَتَصغى لي فَأَشكو ما أُقاسي

وَتَصغى لي فَأَشكو ما أُقاسي

كَما يَشكو العَليل إِلى الطَبيب

كَما يَشكو العَليل إِلى الطَبيب

and will you listen to me, so I may complain of what I endure,

As the sick complain to the doctor.

as a sick man complains to the physician?

For I have a liver cut by yearning,

فَلي كَبد يَقطَعُها اِشتِياقي

فَلي كَبد يَقطَعُها اِشتِياقي

وَقَلب لا يَقِرُّ مِن الوَجيب

وَقَلب لا يَقِرُّ مِن الوَجيب

For I have a liver that my longing tears apart,

And a heart that knows no rest or sleep.

and a heart that cannot rest for its pounding.

If my tongue fails to express my condition,

وَإِن أَعيا اللِسان بَيان ما بي

وَإِن أَعيا اللِسان بَيان ما بي

شَكَوت إِلَيكَ بِالدَمع الصَبيب

شَكَوت إِلَيكَ بِالدَمع الصَبيب

And if expressing what ails me defeats the tongue,

My tearful eyes will cry out to you.

I shall complain to you with pouring tears.

This from you, my Master, is enough,

كَفاني مِنكَ يا مَولايَ هَذا

كَفاني مِنكَ يا مَولايَ هَذا

وَهَذا مِنكَ لي أَوفى نَصيب

وَهَذا مِنكَ لي أَوفى نَصيب

This from you suffices me, O my lord,

The perfect share for me.

and this, from you, is my fullest share.