عَلىupon القَلبthe heart المُعَذبtormented أَنto يَذوباmelt
عَلى القَلب المُعَذب أَن يَذوبا
وَياand O دَمعيmy tears عَلَيكَyou must بانَto تَصوباpour down
وَيا دَمعي عَلَيكَ بانَ تَصوبا
The tormented heart must melt.
My tortured heart must melt away
And, O my tears, you must pour down.
And my tears, you must flow today
أَبيتI spend the night مسهداًsleepless قلقاًrestless عَليلاًailing
أَبيت مسهداً قلقاً عَليلاً
حَزيناًsorrowful وَأمقاًin love فَرداًalone غَريباa stranger
حَزيناً وَأمقاً فَرداً غَريبا
I spend the night sleepless, restless, and ailing,
Tossing sleepless, anxious, in pain
Sorrowful, in love, alone, a stranger.
Sad, hopeless, lonely, and downcast
فُؤادٌa heart كُلُهُall of it أَمسىhas become لَهيباًflame
فُؤادٌ كُلُهُ أَمسى لَهيباً
وَجسمand a body كُلُهُall of it أَضحىhas become مَذوباmelted
وَجسم كُلُهُ أَضحى مَذوبا
A heart that has become entirely flame,
My heart is all aflame by night
And a body that has wholly melted away.
My body wasted, seared by blight
أَتذكُرdo you mention ليto me حَديثاًa tale عَنabout اليفيmy beloved
أَتذكُر لي حَديثاً عَن اليفي
وَتنكرand you find strange أَنto تَرىyou see دَمعيmy tears صَبيباpouring down
وَتنكر أَن تَرى دَمعي صَبيبا
Do you tell me a tale of my beloved,
You speak of days gone by with joy
Yet find it strange to see my tears pour down?
Yet balk to see my tears deploy
وَتَعجبand you marvel أَنَّهاthat they سالَتflowed جِراحيmy wounds
وَتَعجب أَنَّها سالَت جِراحي
وَريحand the breeze الشامal-Sham بيby me مَرَتpassed قَريباnearby
وَريح الشام بي مَرَت قَريبا
And marvel that my wounds have bled,
And wonder that my wounds still weep
When the breeze of al-Sham passed near me?
As the wind of Damascus blows near
بِحَمدwith praise to اللَهِGod أَفنىhas consumed السُقمsickness جسميmy body
بِحَمد اللَهِ أَفنى السُقم جسمي
فَلاso not أَخشىI fear عَلَيهِfor it أَنthat يَذوباit will melt
فَلا أَخشى عَلَيهِ أَن يَذوبا
Praise be to God: sickness has consumed my body,
By God's grace, sickness cannot kill
So I do not fear that it will melt away.
No more can it my body grill
وَأَعجزتand I have baffled اللوائمthe reproaching women وَاللَواحيand the chiding women
وَأَعجزت اللوائم وَاللَواحي
وَأيأستand I drove to despair العَوائدthe visiting women وَالطَبيباand the physician
وَأيأست العَوائد وَالطَبيبا
And I have baffled the women who reproach and chide,
Cures and healers are of no avail
And made the visiting women and the physician despair.
Habits and time are doomed to fail
إِلىuntil كَمhow long ذاthis العَذابthe torment وَلَيتَand would that شعريmy knowledge
إِلى كَم ذا العَذاب وَلَيتَ شعري
عَلامَwhy أَطلتَyou prolonged ياO بَدرfull moon المَغيباthe absence
عَلامَ أَطلتَ يا بَدر المَغيبا
How long will this torment last? Would that I knew
How long will this torment remain?
Why you have prolonged your absence, O full moon.
When will you return, O waning moon?
تَجنّenclose جَوانِحيmy ribs قَلباًa heart طَروباًimpassioned
تَجنّ جَوانِحي قَلباً طَروباً
تَكُنharbors شغافهُits sheath شَغفاًpassion مُذيباthat melts
تَكُن شغافهُ شَغفاً مُذيبا
My ribs enclose an impassioned heart,
Make my heart a vessel of delight
Its sheath harbors a passion that melts it.
Let its chambers kindle love's sweet fire
وَحسبand enough for الشَوقlonging أَنthat أَفنيhas exhausted دُموعيmy tears
وَحسب الشَوق أَن أَفني دُموعي
وَإِنand indeed الدَمعthe tears قَدalready أَفنىhas worn away الغُروباthe tear ducts
وَإِن الدَمع قَد أَفنى الغُروبا
It is enough for longing that it has exhausted my tears,
My tears are enough, though longing's flood
And tears have already worn away the tear ducts.
Has wasted them like seas poured forth
وَمِثليand one like me مَنone who يَذوبmelts إِلَيكَfor you شَوقاًwith longing
وَمِثلي مَن يَذوب إِلَيكَ شَوقاً
وَمثلكand one like you سَيديmy lord يَصبيcaptivates القُلوباthe hearts
وَمثلك سَيدي يَصبي القُلوبا
And one such as I melts with longing for you,
None pine for you as I do, crazed
And one such as you, my lord, captivates hearts.
None as you can move hearts when raised
أَماindeed وَالمُجرِمينby the sinners سَعواhastened صُفوفاًin ranks
أَما وَالمُجرِمين سَعوا صُفوفاً
فَمَحصthen purged عَنهُمُfrom them اللَهُGod الذُنوباthe sins
فَمَحص عَنهُمُ اللَهُ الذُنوبا
Indeed, by the sinners who hastened in ranks,
The sinners crowd in troops and bands
And whose sins God then purged away,
But God wipes clean their sins and brands
لَقَدindeed حَلَّلتyou made lawful ليfor me إِفشاءَdivulging سِريmy secret
لَقَد حَلَّلت لي إِفشاءَ سِري
إِلىto الواشيthe tale-bearer وَكُنتُand I used to أَراهُI deemed it حوباa sin
إِلى الواشي وَكُنتُ أَراهُ حوبا
You have indeed made it lawful for me to reveal my secret
To the spy I made my secret known
To the tale-bearer, though I once deemed it a sin.
Thinking he was kind, my heart his throne
وَماand not قَصرتI fell short فيin الكِتمانconcealment لَكنbut
وَما قَصرت في الكِتمان لَكن
دُموعtears العَينof the eye أَشعَرَتalerted الرَقيباthe watcher
دُموع العَين أَشعَرَت الرَقيبا
I did not fall short in concealment, but
I did not fail to hide it fast
The tears of my eye alerted the watcher.
But my eyes betrayed me at last
وَحَقand it is fitting لِمُقلةfor an eye فَقَدَتthat lost كَراهاits sleep
وَحَق لِمُقلة فَقَدَت كَراها
لِفَقدكfor losing you أَنto تَفيضoverflow دَماًblood سَكوباfreely flowing
لِفَقدك أَن تَفيض دَماً سَكوبا
And an eye that has lost its sleep has every right,
She who lost a lover has the right
For loss of you, to overflow with streaming blood.
To pour out blood in torrents at his blight
تَعيشُyou live مُنعِماًin bliss إِنif مُتَI die شَوقاًwith longing
تَعيشُ مُنعِماً إِن مُتَ شَوقاً
فَكَمfor how many قَتَلhas slain الهَوىpassion صَبّاًa lovesick lover كَئيباsorrowful
فَكَم قَتَل الهَوى صَبّاً كَئيبا
May you live in bliss if I die of longing,
Live on in joy if I die for love
For how many a sorrowful lover has passion slain!
Many woeful lovers has passion drove
Sol 6.1