لَم لا يَغذينا الهَوى بِلبانه

لَم لا يَغذينا الهَوى بِلبانه

أَنا في الشَباب وَأَنتَ في رَيعانه

أَنا في الشَباب وَأَنتَ في رَيعانه

Why does love not nourish us with its milk?

Why does passion not feed us with its incense?

I am in youth, and you are in its prime.

I am in my youth and you are in its prime.

قُم فَاسقِني خَمر الهَوى وَسلافه

قُم فَاسقِني خَمر الهَوى وَسلافه

وَاِشرَب بِكَأسي مِن رَحيق دَنانه

وَاِشرَب بِكَأسي مِن رَحيق دَنانه

Rise, then give me love's wine and its purest draught.

Rise, and serve me the wine of passion and its first draught,

And drink from my cup the nectar of its wine jars.

And drink from my cup the nectar of its vines.

يا بن البَلابل رَددت أَلحانَها

يا بن البَلابل رَددت أَلحانَها

وَأَخا الهزاز يَجد في تِحنانه

وَأَخا الهزاز يَجد في تِحنانه

O son of the nightingales, you have echoed their melodies,

O son of nightingales, who repeated their melodies,

And brother of the warbler striving in its plaintive song,

And brother of the swaying branches, finding tenderness in its bending.

غَرد تَجد إِذناً صُغت وَمَشاعِراً

غَرد تَجد إِذناً صُغت وَمَشاعِراً

أَذنت وَقَلباً معادَ مِن خَفَقانِهِ

أَذنت وَقَلباً معادَ مِن خَفَقانِهِ

Sing: you will find consent you have fashioned, and feelings

Sing, you will find listening and feelings,

That have consented, and a heart restored from its throbbing.

I listened and a heart resonating from its throbbing.

وَتَغنَ يا بن الصادِحات مِن الجَوى

وَتَغنَ يا بن الصادِحات مِن الجَوى

وَالنازِلات عَلى مَعاطف بانه

وَالنازِلات عَلى مَعاطف بانه

And sing, O son of the birds that sing from heartache,

And sing, O son of warblers, from vitality,

And those alighting on the curving boughs of its bān tree.

And those descending upon the slopes of its valleys.

هَذا الهَوى وَأَولاء نمنَ بِرَوضِهِ

هَذا الهَوى وَأَولاء نمنَ بِرَوضِهِ

أَفلا نُغَرد في ذُرى أَفنانه

أَفلا نُغَرد في ذُرى أَفنانه

This is love, and those birds have slept in its garden;

This passion and those who lived in its meadows,

Shall we not then warble among the tops of its boughs?

Should we not sing amidst the flowers of its branches?

خُذ مِن شِفاهك كُل ما أَنا آخذ

خُذ مِن شِفاهك كُل ما أَنا آخذ

تَجد السَلاف يَهز الوَرد مِن فينانه

تَجد السَلاف يَهز الوَرد مِن فينانه

Take from your lips all that I am taking;

Take from your lips all that I take,

You will find the pure wine stirring the roses of its leafy bough.

You will find the first draught shaking the rose from its bending.

دار الخَيال ورف حَولك ساعة

دار الخَيال ورف حَولك ساعة

وَدَنا وَابعد وَهر في دَوَرانه

وَدَنا وَابعد وَهر في دَوَرانه

Imagination circled and fluttered around you for a while,

Imagine for a moment, and hover around,

And drew near, drew away, and growled as it circled.

Come near and go far, and wander in its circling.

فَرآك تَفضله مَدى وَتَدفقاً

فَرآك تَفضله مَدى وَتَدفقاً

وَرآكَ ملء الكَون في وَجدانه

وَرآكَ ملء الكَون في وَجدانه

So it saw you surpassing it in reach and flow,

It saw you transcending time and overflowing,

And saw you filling the universe within its consciousness.

And saw you filling the universe in its mind.

سَكن هَواي بِقبلة فَيّاضة

سَكن هَواي بِقبلة فَيّاضة

بارق ما اِهتَزَّ الوَرى لِبَيانه

بارق ما اِهتَزَّ الوَرى لِبَيانه

Soothe my passion with a kiss overflowing

My passion settled with a shining kiss,

With the flash of that whose eloquence stirred humankind.

A lightning that shook the world with its clarity.

وَلتدر مَن أَنا مَن أَكون مِن الوَرى

وَلتدر مَن أَنا مَن أَكون مِن الوَرى

أَنا مَن تَلقى القَول مِن سحبانه

أَنا مَن تَلقى القَول مِن سحبانه

And know who I am, who I am among humankind:

And you may know who I am, who I am in the world,

I am the one who received speech from its Sahban.

I who received words from its clouds.

إِن شاءَ البسك المَشاعر حلية

إِن شاءَ البسك المَشاعر حلية

وَنَضى الدمقس عَليك مِن تِبيانه

وَنَضى الدمقس عَليك مِن تِبيانه

If he wishes, he clothes you in feelings as an ornament,

If you wish, clothing feelings in jewels,

And sheds upon you fine silk from his lucid speech.

And the brocade shedding its patterns upon you.

قُم ضَع يَمينك في هَواه مُبارَكاً

قُم ضَع يَمينك في هَواه مُبارَكاً

وَاِمسَح بِها ما شئت مِن جُثمانه

وَاِمسَح بِها ما شئت مِن جُثمانه

Rise, place your right hand in his love, blessed,

Rise, place your right hand in its blessed passion,

And stroke with it whatever you wish of his body.

And wipe with it whatever you wish from its body.