من مُنصِفي مِن مفرق في عُنفِهِ

من مُنصِفي مِن مفرق في عُنفِهِ

صَدَف الكَرى عَن مُقلَتَيَّ بَصدفِهِ

صَدَف الكَرى عَن مُقلَتَيَّ بَصدفِهِ

Who will give me justice against one so harsh in parting?

He does me injustice with his violence,

Sleep has shunned my eyes because he turned away.

Fate has turned away from my eyelids with its injustice,

بَعد اللقاءَ وَلَيسَ يَنُجز وَعدَهُ

بَعد اللقاءَ وَلَيسَ يَنُجز وَعدَهُ

فَكَأَنَّما إِنجازُهُ في خَلَفِهِ

فَكَأَنَّما إِنجازُهُ في خَلَفِهِ

Our meeting is far off, and he does not keep his promise,

After meeting him, he did not fulfill his promise,

As though his keeping it lay in his breaking it.

As if its fulfillment was in its opposite,

يَقضي عَلَيَّ بِنَظرة وَبِمثِلِها

يَقضي عَلَيَّ بِنَظرة وَبِمثِلِها

يَهِب الحَياة بِتيهِهِ وَبِلُطفِهِ

يَهِب الحَياة بِتيهِهِ وَبِلُطفِهِ

He slays me with a glance, and with one just like it

He takes my life with a glance, and with its like,

Bestows life—with his haughtiness and his gentleness.

He bestows life with his charm and gentleness,

في وَجهِهِ كُل الجَمال بِأَسرِهِ

في وَجهِهِ كُل الجَمال بِأَسرِهِ

وَقُلوب كَل العاشِقين بِكَفِهِ

وَقُلوب كَل العاشِقين بِكَفِهِ

In his face is all beauty, in its entirety,

In his face is all beauty in its entirety,

And the hearts of all lovers lie in his palm.

And the hearts of all lovers are in his grasp,

أَعضاؤُهُ نَمَت عَلى أَسرارِهِ

أَعضاؤُهُ نَمَت عَلى أَسرارِهِ

فَبَدَت وَحَتفي كامن في طَرفِهِ

فَبَدَت وَحَتفي كامن في طَرفِهِ

His limbs told of his secrets,

His limbs grew on its secrets,

So they came to light, while my death lurks in his gaze.

So his wrists appeared, hiding in his twist,

الوَرد يَذبَل غيرة مِن خَدِهِ

الوَرد يَذبَل غيرة مِن خَدِهِ

وَالغُصن يَخجَل مِن تَثَني عَطفِهِ

وَالغُصن يَخجَل مِن تَثَني عَطفِهِ

The rose withers in jealousy of his cheek,

The roses wilt with jealousy of his cheek,

And the bough is abashed at the swaying of his side.

And the branch is shy of the bend of his curve,

وَأَنامل الأَوهام تَجني وَردَهُ

وَأَنامل الأَوهام تَجني وَردَهُ

وَلَو اِستَطَعت مَنَعتَها مِن قَطفِهِ

وَلَو اِستَطَعت مَنَعتَها مِن قَطفِهِ

And the fingertips of fancy pluck his rose;

The fingers of illusion pick his flowers,

And if I could, I would keep them from plucking it.

If only they could, they would prevent its plucking,

وَإِذا وَصَفت بِسحر شِعري ثَغرُهُ

وَإِذا وَصَفت بِسحر شِعري ثَغرُهُ

يَوماً سَكَرت بِشَمّ ذِكرى عُرفِهِ

يَوماً سَكَرت بِشَمّ ذِكرى عُرفِهِ

And when I describe his mouth through the magic of my verse

And if I describe the magic of his mouth in my poetry,

One day, I grow drunk inhaling the memory of his fragrance.

One day I got drunk from the scent of the memory of his breath,

وَنَثَرتُ دَمعي مِن تَذَكُر نَظمِهِ

وَنَثَرتُ دَمعي مِن تَذَكُر نَظمِهِ

وَجداً فَيُمسي كَالبِحار بِوَكفِهِ

وَجداً فَيُمسي كَالبِحار بِوَكفِهِ

And I scatter my tears, recalling his row of pearls,

And I shed my tears from remembering his rhythm,

In longing, till their streaming makes them like seas.

Passionately, so it becomes like the seas in its downpour,

فَيَغوص فِكري في دُموعي غَوصة

فَيَغوص فِكري في دُموعي غَوصة

يَستَخرج الدُرّ الجُمان لِوَصفِهِ

يَستَخرج الدُرّ الجُمان لِوَصفِهِ

Then my thought takes a plunge into my tears,

So my thoughts dive deeply in my tears,

Drawing out pearl-beads to describe him.

Extracting precious pearls to describe him,

وَيَظَلُّ يَتَقن نَظمُهُ في نَظمِهِ

وَيَظَلُّ يَتَقن نَظمُهُ في نَظمِهِ

عِقداً وَيَحكُم نَشرُهُ في لَفِهِ

عِقداً وَيَحكُم نَشرُهُ في لَفِهِ

And keeps perfecting their stringing within its verse,

And it continues composing its rhythms in its rhythms,

Into a necklace, and perfects their scattering within its folds.

A necklace it strengthens its stringing in its twisting,

وَلَو اِستَطَعت كَفَفت أَنفاس الصِبا

وَلَو اِستَطَعت كَفَفت أَنفاس الصِبا

عَنهُ وَزدتُ فَم المُنى عَن رَشفِهِ

عَنهُ وَزدتُ فَم المُنى عَن رَشفِهِ

And if I could, I would hold back the east wind's breaths

And if only I could, I would stop the breaths of morning,

From him, and drive the mouth of desire away from sipping him.

From it, and increase the mouth of wishes from its sipping,

فَلَرُبَما أَبقى عَلى مُتَماثل

فَلَرُبَما أَبقى عَلى مُتَماثل

مِن فَرط غيرَتِهِ صِيانة أَلفِهِ

مِن فَرط غيرَتِهِ صِيانة أَلفِهِ

For often a convalescent has been spared,

So perhaps I would remain steadfast,

Through his fierce jealousy in safeguarding his beloved.

Out of intense jealousy, protecting his intimacy,

يا لَيتَ لي مُهجاً صِحاحاً جَمة

يا لَيتَ لي مُهجاً صِحاحاً جَمة

فَيذيبها إِذ مُهجة لَم تَكفِهِ

فَيذيبها إِذ مُهجة لَم تَكفِهِ

Oh, if only I had many sound hearts,

I wish I had a heart, healthy and beautiful,

So he might melt them, since one heart did not suffice him.

That would melt it, as my heart could not satisfy it,

أَولَيت بَعد تَلاف نَفسي غاية

أَولَيت بَعد تَلاف نَفسي غاية

تَشفي الهَوى فَتلافها لَم يَشفِهِ

تَشفي الهَوى فَتلافها لَم يَشفِهِ

Or if only beyond my soul's destruction there were an end

Or I wish after the exhaustion of my soul an end,

That could cure passion, for my soul's ruin has not cured it.

That would heal passion, but its exhaustion did not cure it,