إِسَلَّمIsallam بُوَهاBuha لَمnot أكُI was عَنof هَوَاكِlove for you
إِسَلَّم بُوَها لَم أكُ عَن هَوَاكِ
بِسَالٍforgetful إِنif تَرَكتُI forsook هَوَىlonging for سِرَاكِyour night journeys
بِسَالٍ إِن تَرَكتُ هَوَى سِرَاكِ
Isallam Buha, I have not put my love for you
I have surrendered, so cease your disdain
out of mind, even if I have forsaken longing for your night journeys.
Though with a rope, I'd not leave longing for you
هَبِينيgrant me مِنfrom لَمَاكِyour dark lips خَفِيفَlight لَثمٍa kiss
هَبِيني مِن لَمَاكِ خَفِيفَ لَثمٍ
أرَاكَI see you بِهِwith it ضَنَتِbegrudged عَلَىto السِّوَاكِthe tooth-stick
أرَاكَ بِهِ ضَنَتِ عَلَى السِّوَاكِ
Grant me a light kiss from your dark lips;
Grant me a subtle kiss from your lips
I see you have begrudged it even to the tooth-stick.
Let me see through it your love for me
يُذَكِّرنيreminds me النَّضِيرُthe fresh bloom مِنَof الأَقَاحِىthe daisies
يُذَكِّرني النَّضِيرُ مِنَ الأَقَاحِى
لَمَاكِyour dark lips فجَودُهُand its downpour مَطَرُthe rain السِّماكِal-Simak
لَمَاكِ فجَودُهُ مَطَرُ السِّماكِ
The fresh bloom of daisies reminds me
The croaking frog reminds me of meadows
of your dark lips; its downpour is the rain of al-Simak.
Its downpour like the rain of your affection
وَإنيand I مُذsince دَعَاcalled الدَّاعِىthe caller بِنَاىٍfor separation
وَإني مُذ دَعَا الدَّاعِى بِنَاىٍ
مَرِيضٌill مُصعِدُsending upward الزَّفَرَاتِthe sighs بَاكِweeping
مَرِيضٌ مُصعِدُ الزَّفَرَاتِ بَاكِ
And I, since the caller called for separation,
Since the caller called out farewell
am ill, heaving sighs and weeping.
I've been lovesick, sighing heavily
وأَرجُوand I hope مِنfrom لَمَاكِyour dark lips شِفَاءَa cure ماwhat بيis in me
وأَرجُو مِن لَمَاكِ شِفَاءَ ما بي
فَكَمfor how often قَدindeed سَاقَbrought لِىto me ألَماًpain لمَاكِyour dark lips
فَكَم قَد سَاقَ لِى ألَماً لمَاكِ
And from your dark lips I hope for a cure for what ails me,
And I hope that your love will cure me
for how often your dark lips have brought me pain!
For how much pain has your love caused me
يُذَكِّرنيreminds me الحَمَامُthe doves إِذَاwhen تَغنيsing
يُذَكِّرني الحَمَامُ إِذَا تَغني
عَلَىon المَطوَالِthe tall tree مِنamong خَضِلِmoist الأرَاكِthe arak trees
عَلَى المَطوَالِ مِن خَضِلِ الأرَاكِ
The doves remind me, when they sing,
The cooing dove reminds me
on the tall tree among the lush arak trees,
Of our nights together in secret
لَيَالِىَthe nights وَصلِنَاour union بِالسِّرِّin secret إذwhen لاَnot
لَيَالِىَ وَصلِنَا بِالسِّرِّ إذ لاَ
تَرَانيsee me العَاذِلاَتُthe reproachful women ولاَnor تَرَاكِsee you
تَرَاني العَاذِلاَتُ ولاَ تَرَاكِ
of the nights of our secret union, when
When no reproachers could see me or you
the reproachful women saw neither me nor you.
Partial English translation: 13 of 14 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1