وَكَم بِتُّ عَطشاناً إِلى مَورِدِ اللَمى

وَكَم بِتُّ عَطشاناً إِلى مَورِدِ اللَمى

وَإِن كُنتُ في بَحرِ الدُموعِ غَريقا

وَإِن كُنتُ في بَحرِ الدُموعِ غَريقا

And how often I spent the night thirsty for the fount of dusky lips,

How often I thirst for the watering place of union

though I was drowning in a sea of tears.

Even if I am drowning in the sea of tears

فَريقَينِ وَدَّعنا فَريقاً أَحِبَّةً

فَريقَينِ وَدَّعنا فَريقاً أَحِبَّةً

تَعِزُّ عَلَينا وَالقُلوبَ فَريقا

تَعِزُّ عَلَينا وَالقُلوبَ فَريقا

We bade farewell to two companies: one, beloved ones

We bid farewell to companions, one group of beloved ones

dear to us; the other, our hearts.

Whose loss grieves us, while hearts are a different group

وَلا رَوحَ في الشَكوى وَأَيَّةُ راحَةٍ

وَلا رَوحَ في الشَكوى وَأَيَّةُ راحَةٍ

بِما سَرَّ أَعداءً وَساءَ صَديقا

بِما سَرَّ أَعداءً وَساءَ صَديقا

There is no relief in complaint—and what comfort

There is no life in complaining, and what comfort is there

in what gladdened enemies and saddened a friend?

In what gladdens enemies and saddens a friend

وَإِنّا لَنَنعي كُلَّ دارٍ بِقَدرِها

وَإِنّا لَنَنعي كُلَّ دارٍ بِقَدرِها

بِأَيَّةِ ما نَبكي العَقيقَ عَقيقا

بِأَيَّةِ ما نَبكي العَقيقَ عَقيقا

And we indeed mourn each dwelling according to its worth,

And we lament, for every house according to its fate

as shown by our weeping carnelian tears for al-ʿAqīq.

With which elegy do we weep for carnelian, carnelian

وَما زالَ سَيلُ الدَمعِ يَجري بِرَبعِهِم

وَما زالَ سَيلُ الدَمعِ يَجري بِرَبعِهِم

إِلى أَن رَأَينا الدَمعَ صارَ طَريقا

إِلى أَن رَأَينا الدَمعَ صارَ طَريقا

And the stream of tears kept flowing at their dwelling,

The torrent of tears still flows in their quarters

until we saw the tears had become a path.

Until we saw that tears had become a road

حَمامَ اللِوى إِنّي كَما يَشهَدُ الهَوى

حَمامَ اللِوى إِنّي كَما يَشهَدُ الهَوى

لَأَولى بِضَمِّ الغُصنِ مِنكَ وَريقا

لَأَولى بِضَمِّ الغُصنِ مِنكَ وَريقا

O doves of al-Liwā, I—as love bears witness—

O dove of passion, as passion bears witness

am surely more entitled than you to embrace the leafy bough.

I am more deserving to gather the branch than you, slight one

وَكَم باتَ وَالتَغريدُ يَهفو بِعَطفِهِ

وَكَم باتَ وَالتَغريدُ يَهفو بِعَطفِهِ

فَأَصبَحَ مَنهوكَ القَوامِ دَقيقا

فَأَصبَحَ مَنهوكَ القَوامِ دَقيقا

And how often it spent the night, birdsong making its side sway,

And how often it spent the night, and the warbling swooped in its branch

and by morning its frame was wasted and slender,

So it woke up faint in body, weak

إِلى أَن حَسِبناهُ مِنَ السُقمِ عاشِقاً

إِلى أَن حَسِبناهُ مِنَ السُقمِ عاشِقاً

وَكانَ يَرى العُشّاقُ مِنهُ عَشيقا

وَكانَ يَرى العُشّاقُ مِنهُ عَشيقا

until, from its sickness, we took it for a lover,

Until we thought it was sick with love

and lovers would see in it a beloved.

And the lovers saw in it a passionate lover

إِذا دَقَّ ساقاً طالِعاً جُلَّنارُهُ

إِذا دَقَّ ساقاً طالِعاً جُلَّنارُهُ

ظَنَنتَ غُصونَ البانِ عُدنَ شَقيقا

ظَنَنتَ غُصونَ البانِ عُدنَ شَقيقا

Whenever its stem grew slender, its pomegranate blossom emerging,

When its bright-red foot beats

you would think the bān branches had turned to red anemones.

You'd think the branches of acacia were most wretched