وَحَمَّاءِand dark العِلاطِin the neckband إِذاwhen تَغَنَّتْshe sings
وَحَمَّاءِ العِلاطِ إِذا تَغَنَّتْ
فَكَمْthen how much طَرَبٍrapture يُخالِطُهُmingles with it أَنينُmoaning
فَكَمْ طَرَبٍ يُخالِطُهُ أَنينُ
And a dark-collared dove, when she sings—
When the doves of Al-Elat coo,
how much rapture is mingled with moaning!
what passion mixes with their moan!
وَأُرْعِيهاand I lend her مَسامِعَears لَمْnot يُمِلْهاhas inclined them
وَأُرْعِيها مَسامِعَ لَمْ يُمِلْها
إِلىtoward نَغَماتِهاher melodies إِلَّاexcept الرَّنينُthe ringing
إِلى نَغَماتِها إِلَّا الرَّنينُ
And I lend her ears that nothing has drawn
My ears cannot tire of their song—
toward her melodies except their ringing.
only the echo resounds within.
وَبَيْنَand between جَوانِحيmy ribs مِمَّاfrom what أُعانِيI endure
وَبَيْنَ جَوانِحي مِمَّا أُعانِي
تَباريحٌtorments يُلَقِّحُهاfertilizes them الحَنينُlonging
تَباريحٌ يُلَقِّحُها الحَنينُ
And within my ribs, from what I endure,
Between my ribs, from my suffering,
are torments that longing fertilizes.
stirs a yearning their coos awaken.
بَكَتْshe wept وَجُفُونُهاand her eyelids ماnot صَافَحَتْهاgreeted them
بَكَتْ وَجُفُونُها ما صَافَحَتْها
دُمُوعٌtears وَالغَرامُand passion بِهاin her يَبِينُis evident
دُمُوعٌ وَالغَرامُ بِها يَبِينُ
She wept, though her eyelids had not been greeted
Tears flowed when her eyelids blinked,
by tears, and passion is plain in her.
weeping while love was plain to see.
وَليand I have طَرْفٌan eye أَلَحَّpressed insistently عَلَيهِupon it دَمْعٌtears
وَلي طَرْفٌ أَلَحَّ عَلَيهِ دَمْعٌ
تَتابَعَcame in succession فَيْضُهُits outpouring فَمَنِso who الحَزينُthe sorrowful one
تَتابَعَ فَيْضُهُ فَمَنِ الحَزينُ
And I have an eye beset by tears,
My eyes brimmed with tears that poured
whose flow has been unbroken—so who is the sorrowful one?
ceaselessly—who then feels more pain than me?
Sol 6.1