مَقاديرُdecrees of fate مِنfrom جَفنَيكِyour two eyelids حَوَلنَthey changed حالِياmy state
مَقاديرُ مِن جَفنَيكِ حَوَلنَ حالِيا
فَذُقتُso I tasted الهَوىlove بَعدَماafter كُنتُI had been خالِياfree of love
فَذُقتُ الهَوى بَعدَما كُنتُ خالِيا
Decrees of fate from your eyelids changed my state,
Measures from your eyelids have changed my state
So I tasted love after I had been free of it.
I tasted love after I had been empty
نَفَذنَthey pierced عَلَيَّagainst me اللُبَّthe mind بِالسَهمِwith an arrow مُرسَلاًloosed
نَفَذنَ عَلَيَّ اللُبَّ بِالسَهمِ مُرسَلاً
وَبِالسِحرِand with magic مَقضِيّاًwrought وَبِالسَيفِand with the sword قاضِياpassing judgment
وَبِالسِحرِ مَقضِيّاً وَبِالسَيفِ قاضِيا
They pierced my reason with an arrow loosed,
Passion pierced me with unleashed arrows
And with magic wrought, and with a sword passing judgment.
Irresistibly destined and with a judging sword
وَأَلبَسنَنيand they clothed me ثَوبَthe robe of الضَنىwasting sickness فَلَبِستُهُso I wore it
وَأَلبَسنَني ثَوبَ الضَنى فَلَبِستُهُ
فَأَحبِبso how dear بِهِit is ثَوباًas a robe وَإِنand even if ضَمَّit enfolds بالِياone worn away
فَأَحبِب بِهِ ثَوباً وَإِن ضَمَّ بالِيا
And they clothed me in the robe of wasting sickness, so I wore it.
It clothed me in the garb of grief, so I wore it
So how dear a robe it is, though it enfolds one worn away!
Though it squeezed me, I loved it as my robe
وَماand not الحُبُّlove إِلّاexcept طاعَةٌobedience وَتَجاوُزٌand forbearance
وَما الحُبُّ إِلّا طاعَةٌ وَتَجاوُزٌ
وَإِنand even if أَكثَرواthey multiply أَوصافَهُits descriptions وَالمَعانِياand meanings
وَإِن أَكثَروا أَوصافَهُ وَالمَعانِيا
And love is nothing but obedience and forbearance,
Love is but obedience and concession
Even if they multiply its descriptions and meanings.
Though they describe it abundantly and profoundly
وَماand not هُوَit إِلّاexcept العَينُthe eye بِالعَينِwith the eye تَلتَقيmeets
وَما هُوَ إِلّا العَينُ بِالعَينِ تَلتَقي
وَإِنand even if نَوَّعواthey diversify أَسبابَهُits causes وَالدَواعِياand motives
وَإِن نَوَّعوا أَسبابَهُ وَالدَواعِيا
And it is nothing but eye meeting eye,
It is but the eyes meeting with the eyes
Even if they diversify its causes and motives.
Though they diversify its causes and incentives
وَعِنديand to me الهَوىlove مَوصوفُهُits described subject لاnot صِفاتُهُits attributes
وَعِندي الهَوى مَوصوفُهُ لا صِفاتُهُ
إِذاwhen سَأَلونيthey ask me ماwhat الهَوىlove قُلتُI say ماwhat بِياwithin me
إِذا سَأَلوني ما الهَوى قُلتُ ما بِيا
And to me, love is the thing described, not its attributes;
To me, love is its object, not its attributes
When they ask me what love is, I say, 'What is within me.'
If asked what is love, I say it is her
وَبيand I am smitten with رَشَأٌa young gazelle قَدindeed كانَwas دُنيايَmy world حاضِراًpresent
وَبي رَشَأٌ قَد كانَ دُنيايَ حاضِراً
فَغادَرَنيthen he left me أَشتاقُI yearn for دُنيايَmy world نائِياfar away
فَغادَرَني أَشتاقُ دُنيايَ نائِيا
And I am smitten with a young gazelle who was my world when near,
In me was happiness, my life present
Then, far away, he left me yearning for my world.
It left me; I long for my distant life
سَمَحتُI gave freely بِروحيwith my soul فيin هَواهُlove for him رَخيصَةًcheap
سَمَحتُ بِروحي في هَواهُ رَخيصَةً
وَمَنand whoever يَهوَloves لاdoes not يوثِرُprefer عَلىover الحُبِّlove غالِياanything precious
وَمَن يَهوَ لا يوثِرُ عَلى الحُبِّ غالِيا
I freely offered my soul for love of him, counting it cheap;
I gave my soul up cheaply for its love
And whoever loves sets nothing precious above love.
One in love does not prefer anything costlier
وَلَمand did not تَجرِflow أَلفاظُwords الوُشاةِthe tale-bearers بِريبَةٍwith suspicion
وَلَم تَجرِ أَلفاظُ الوُشاةِ بِريبَةٍ
كَهَذيlike this one الَّتيwhich يَجريflows بِهاwith it الدَمعُtears واشِياtale-bearing
كَهَذي الَّتي يَجري بِها الدَمعُ واشِيا
And no suspicion ran through the tale-bearers' words
Nor did the slanderers' words arouse suspicion
Like this one, which my tears reveal as they flow, betraying me.
Like these tears that freely flow
أَقولُI say لِمَنto the one whom وَدَّعتُI bade farewell وَالرَكبُwhile the caravan سائِرٌis traveling
أَقولُ لِمَن وَدَّعتُ وَالرَكبُ سائِرٌ
بِرُغمِagainst the will of فُؤاديmy heart سائِرٌtraveling on بِفُؤادياwith my heart
بِرُغمِ فُؤادي سائِرٌ بِفُؤاديا
I say to the one I bade farewell, while the caravan moves on,
I say to those I bade farewell, though my heart
Against my heart's will, moving on with my heart:
Against my will, travels with their hearts
أَماناًsafety لِقَلبيfor my heart مِنfrom جُفونِكِyour eyelids فيin الهَوىlove
أَماناً لِقَلبي مِن جُفونِكِ في الهَوى
كَفىsuffices بِالهَوىlove itself كَأساًas a cup وَراحاًand wine وَساقِياand a cupbearer
كَفى بِالهَوى كَأساً وَراحاً وَساقِيا
Grant my heart safety from your eyelids in love;
Your eyelids are safety for my heart in love
Love itself suffices as cup, wine, and cupbearer.
Love is enough as a cup, cheer, and pourer
وَلاand do not تَجعَليهِplace it بَينَbetween خَدَيكِyour two cheeks وَالنَوىand separation
وَلا تَجعَليهِ بَينَ خَدَيكِ وَالنَوى
مِنَof الظُلمِinjustice أَنthat يَغدوit becomes لِنارَينِin two fires صالِياburning
مِنَ الظُلمِ أَن يَغدو لِنارَينِ صالِيا
And do not place it between your cheeks and separation:
And do not let it between your cheek and grace
It is unjust that it should burn in two fires.
Be so unjust as to draw close to two fires
وَلَمand has not يَندَمِلhealed مِنfrom طَعنَةِthe thrust of القَدِّthe figure جُرحُهُits wound
وَلَم يَندَمِل مِن طَعنَةِ القَدِّ جُرحُهُ
فَرِفقاًso be gentle بِهِwith it مِنfrom طَعنَةِthe thrust of البَينِparting دامِياbleeding
فَرِفقاً بِهِ مِن طَعنَةِ البَينِ دامِيا
And its wound from your figure's thrust has not healed;
Nor has the wound of the spear-thrust healed
So spare it the thrust of parting, bleeding as it is.
So be gentle with it, not with separation's stab
Sol 6.1