أَلاah! لَيتَif only شِعريmy knowledge هَلwhether تَعودreturn لِقَبضَتيto my grasp
أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل تَعود لِقَبضَتي
لَيالnights بِهاin them المَعشوقthe beloved غَيرnot مَخالِفِaverse
لَيال بِها المَعشوق غَير مَخالِفِ
Ah, would that I knew: will there return to my grasp
Alas! If only I knew, will she return to my embrace
nights when the beloved was not averse?
On nights when the beloved does not object?
وَهَلأand will يَرجَعنَthey restore عَيشيmy life كَماas كانَit was أَرغَداًmore easeful
وَهَلأ يَرجَعنَ عَيشي كَما كانَ أَرغَداً
وَأَخلوand I am alone كَماas كُناwe were بِتلكَwith those اللطائِفِdelights
وَأَخلو كَما كُنا بِتلكَ اللطائِفِ
And will they restore my life to its former ease,
Will my life return to what it was, most plentiful?
and shall I enjoy those delights in private, as we once did?
And will we be alone together again, with those kindnesses?
بَكَيتُI wept دَماًblood إِنif لَمdid not أَرقI pour out ماءwater مُهجَتيmy heart
بَكَيتُ دَماً إِن لَم أَرق ماء مُهجَتي
دُموعاًas tears عَلىover تِلكَthose اللَياليthe nights السَوالِفِbygone
دُموعاً عَلى تِلكَ اللَيالي السَوالِفِ
May I weep blood if I have not poured out my heart's water
I wept blood, if my eyelids did not flow with water,
as tears for those bygone nights.
Tears over those fleeting nights,
تَذَكَرتُI recalled أَياماًdays مَضَينَthat passed وَمَألفاًand a familiar haunt
تَذَكَرتُ أَياماً مَضَينَ وَمَألفاً
وَعادةand the habit مِنone who يَهوىloves إِدكارrecollection المَآلِفِfamiliar haunts
وَعادة مِن يَهوى إِدكار المَآلِفِ
I recalled days gone by and a familiar haunt;
I remembered days gone by, and intimacy,
and recalling familiar haunts is the habit of one who loves.
It is the habit of lovers to cherish what is familiar.
وَقَفتُI stood وَدَمعيand my tears قاذفflinging سرthe secret مُهجَتيmy heart
وَقَفتُ وَدَمعي قاذف سر مُهجَتي
إِلَيهِto him وَماand not دَمعيmy tears بِأَوَلِthe first (emphatic) قاذِفِone who flings
إِلَيهِ وَما دَمعي بِأَوَلِ قاذِفِ
I stood, my tears flinging my heart's secret
I paused, my tears revealing the secret of my passion,
to him—and my tears are not the first to fling it.
Flowing to him, and they were not the first to flow.
يَمرّhe passes عَلىby دارthe dwelling of الحَبيبthe beloved مُحَمحِماًsoftly whinnying
يَمرّ عَلى دار الحَبيب مُحَمحِماً
جَواديmy steed بِذكرin remembrance of السالِفاتthe bygone المَواقِفِstopping places
جَوادي بِذكر السالِفات المَواقِفِ
By the beloved's dwelling goes, softly whinnying,
My steed gallops past the home of the beloved,
my steed, recalling the stopping places of old.
With memories of joyful adventures.
وَيَرعىand he watches نُجوماًstars طالَماso often قَدindeed رَعَيتَهاI watched them
وَيَرعى نُجوماً طالَما قَد رَعَيتَها
لَياليَon nights صَدrejection الحُبlove كانَwas مُحالِفيmy ally
لَياليَ صَد الحُب كانَ مُحالِفي
And he watches stars that I have so often watched
And watches the stars I used to watch
on nights when love's rejection was my ally.
On nights when love’s company was my ally.
وَماand not دارَهُhis dwelling قَصديmy aim وَلَكنand yet لِأَجلِهِfor his sake
وَما دارَهُ قَصدي وَلَكن لِأَجلِهِ
أَحنُّI yearn فَلاso not أَلفيI find لَهاto it غَيرother than آلفِone devoted
أَحنُّ فَلا أَلفي لَها غَير آلفِ
And his dwelling is not my aim; rather, for his sake
It is not his house I intend, but for his sake,
I yearn, and find myself nothing but devoted to it.
I yearn, so I find no joy but in what is familiar.
Sol 6.1