يا لابساً لنقابِ وردٍ أحمرِ

يا لابساً لنقابِ وردٍ أحمرِ

يا فارشاً وجهي بوردٍ أصفرِ

يا فارشاً وجهي بوردٍ أصفرِ

O you who wear a veil of red roses,

O you who wear a red rose veil

O you who carpet my face with yellow roses,

O you who adorn my face with yellow roses

حتَّامَ تُنْحِلُني بخصرٍ ناحلٍ

حتَّامَ تُنْحِلُني بخصرٍ ناحلٍ

وتُعِلُّني بعليلِ طرفٍ أحورِ

وتُعِلُّني بعليلِ طرفٍ أحورِ

How long will you make me waste away with your slender waist,

Until you weaken me with a slender waist

And sicken me with the languid gaze of your bright-white, dark-pupiled eyes?

And raise me with the affliction of a charming glance

يا واحداً في الحُسْنِ ها أنا واحدٌ

يا واحداً في الحُسْنِ ها أنا واحدٌ

في الحُزْنِ أُصْلى حَرَّ نارٍ مضمرِ

في الحُزْنِ أُصْلى حَرَّ نارٍ مضمرِ

O you unmatched in beauty—behold, I am unmatched

O you who are singular in beauty, here I am, singular

In sorrow; I am scorched by the heat of a hidden fire.

In sorrow, praying to the embers of a burning fire

وأَظَلُّ بينَ تذلُّلٍ وتَحَيُّرِ

وأَظَلُّ بينَ تذلُّلٍ وتَحَيُّرِ

إذ أنتَ بينَ تدلُّلٍ وتَجَبُّرِ

إذ أنتَ بينَ تدلُّلٍ وتَجَبُّرِ

And I remain between self-abasement and bewilderment,

And I remain between coquetry and bewilderment

While you are between coquetry and tyranny.

While you remain between coquetry and pride

ما لي بوصفِكَ سيدي من طاقةٍ

ما لي بوصفِكَ سيدي من طاقةٍ

ولوَ انَّني استمليتُ طبعَ البُحْتري

ولوَ انَّني استمليتُ طبعَ البُحْتري

I have no power to describe you, my master,

I have no ability, my master, to describe you

Even if I took dictation from al-Buhturi's poetic genius.

Even if I possessed the talent of al-Buhturi