مَولايَ كَم حَمل النَسيم سَلامي

مَولايَ كَم حَمل النَسيم سَلامي

فَعَلامَ تَعنيفي وَطول مَلامي

فَعَلامَ تَعنيفي وَطول مَلامي

My lord, how often the breeze has carried my greetings!

My Master, how often the breeze carried my greetings,

Then why rebuke me and reproach me so long?

Why then do you reproach me and prolong my blame?

وَلَكَم بَعَثتُ مَعَ البَريدِ رَسائِلاً

وَلَكَم بَعَثتُ مَعَ البَريدِ رَسائِلاً

وَمَنَعتُ حَتّى الطيف في الأَحلام

وَمَنَعتُ حَتّى الطيف في الأَحلام

And how often I have sent letters with the courier,

And how many letters with the post I have sent,

And I withheld even the apparition in dreams.

I even deprived myself of you in my dreams.

وَلَطالَما ضَحِكتُ بروق رَسائِلي

وَلَطالَما ضَحِكتُ بروق رَسائِلي

لَما بَكَت بِصَريرِها أَقلامي

لَما بَكَت بِصَريرِها أَقلامي

And how often I laughed at the lightning flashes of my letters,

And how often I laughed at the flashes of my letters,

When my pens wept with their scratching.

When my pens wept with their whining.

فَسَل النَسيمَ عَنِ المُحِبِّ فَما بِهِ

فَسَل النَسيمَ عَنِ المُحِبِّ فَما بِهِ

الاِسهاد مَعَ مَزيد سَقامى

الاِسهاد مَعَ مَزيد سَقامى

So ask the breeze about the lover: what ails him?

So ask the breeze about the lover, what ails him,

Sleeplessness, with my sickness ever increasing.

Wasting away with increased sickness.

قَلبي بحبك يا غَزال مُتيم

قَلبي بحبك يا غَزال مُتيم

يَشكو ظَماه لِثغرك البسام

يَشكو ظَماه لِثغرك البسام

My heart, O gazelle, is enthralled by love for you;

My heart in love with you, O lonely gazelle,

It complains of its thirst to your ever-smiling lips.

Complains of its thirst to your smiling lips.

وَاِسأَل خَيالَكَ عَن هَوايَ فَاِنَّهُ

وَاِسأَل خَيالَكَ عَن هَوايَ فَاِنَّهُ

في اللَيلِ مَع طولِ النَهارِ أَمامي

في اللَيلِ مَع طولِ النَهارِ أَمامي

And ask your image about my love, for it

And ask your apparition about my passion, for it

Is before me by night and all day long.

Is before me in the night and all day long.

أَنا لا أَحولُ عَن الوِدادِ فَاِنَّني

أَنا لا أَحولُ عَن الوِدادِ فَاِنَّني

في مَبدا الاِشواقِ مثل خِتامي

في مَبدا الاِشواقِ مثل خِتامي

I do not turn away from affection, for I

I do not deviate from affection, for I am

Am the same at longing's beginning as at my end.

In the origin of longing like my seal.