ياO ذاyou الَّذيwho أَرسَلَsent مِنfrom طَرفِهِhis glance
يا ذا الَّذي أَرسَلَ مِن طَرفِهِ
عَلَيّagainst me سَيفاًa sword قَدّنيwould have cleft me لَوif فَرىit cut
عَلَيّ سَيفاً قَدّني لَو فَرى
O you who sent forth from your glance
O you who sent towards me
Against me a sword that would have cleft me had it cut,
A sword that would crack me, if only he saw:
شِفاءُthe cure نَفسيmy soul مِنهُfrom it تَجميشَةٌa playful pinch
شِفاءُ نَفسي مِنهُ تَجميشَةٌ
تَغرِسُplants فيin وَردِكَyour roses نِيلوفراa water lily
تَغرِسُ في وَردِكَ نِيلوفرا
My soul’s cure for it is a playful pinch
healing for my soul is commotion
That plants a water lily among your roses.
that plants in your roses a lily.
Sol 6.1