لَهْفِيmy anguished longing عَلَىfor شَادِنٍa young gazelle فِيin حُسْنِthe beauty of طَلْعَتِهِhis countenance
لَهْفِي عَلَى شَادِنٍ فِي حُسْنِ طَلْعَتِهِ
وَشَعْرُهُand his hair صَارَbecame إِصْبَاحِيmy morning وَإِمْسَائِيand my evening
وَشَعْرُهُ صَارَ إِصْبَاحِي وَإِمْسَائِي
How I pine for a young gazelle who, in his lovely face
My longing for Shadin in his beauty's prime
And his hair, has become my morning and my evening.
His hair has lit my morn and eve sublime
قَدْindeed بَرَّدَcooled القَلْبَthe heart فِيin تَمُّوزَTammuz (July) مَرْشِفُهُhis lips
قَدْ بَرَّدَ القَلْبَ فِي تَمُّوزَ مَرْشِفُهُ
وَظَلَّand continued يَحْرِقُto burn فِيin كَانُونَKanun (December or January) أَحْشَائِيmy entrails
وَظَلَّ يَحْرِقُ فِي كَانُونَ أَحْشَائِي
His lips have cooled my heart in Tammuz,
His sip in July my heart made cold as rime
And kept burning my entrails in Kanun.
Yet burned within through winter's cruel clime
Sol 6.1