مصارع أبناء الهوى كل عاشقٍ

مصارع أبناء الهوى كل عاشقٍ

رماه الهوى عن قوسه فأصابنا

رماه الهوى عن قوسه فأصابنا

The deaths of love’s children—every lover

The fallen lovers, each left low by love,

Whom love shot with its bow, and so struck us.

Its bow bringing them down with arrows point blank.

رثى لهمو من خاف يلقى الذي لقوا

رثى لهمو من خاف يلقى الذي لقوا

فألف في ما قد لقوه كتابا

فألف في ما قد لقوه كتابا

One who feared to meet what they had met felt pity for them,

They're mourned by those who fear to meet their fate,

So he compiled a book about what they had encountered,

In what befell them epics have been made.

وجمع من أخبارهم في هواهم

وجمع من أخبارهم في هواهم

أحاديث مثل الروض جيد سحابا

أحاديث مثل الروض جيد سحابا

And gathered from accounts of their love

Their passion's tales, like meadows fresh with rain,

Tales like a garden watered by clouds.

Have been compiled in many a goodly book.