1. يا خاتَمَ المُلكِ يا سَمعي وَيا بَصَري

    زُوري اِبنَ عَمِّكِ أَو طيبي لَهُ يَزُرِ

    O signet of sovereignty, O my hearing and my sight,

    visit your cousin, or be gracious and let him visit.

  2. حَتّى مَتى لا نَرى شَيئاً نُسَرُّ بِهِ

    قَد طالَ هَجرُكِ ما نَهوى وَمُنتَظَري

    How long shall we see nothing that delights us?

    Your neglect of what we desire has lasted long—and so has my waiting.

  3. إِن كانَ قَلبُكِ بَعدي صارَ مِن حَجَرٍ

    فَأَيقِني أَنَّ قَلبي لَيسَ مِن حَجَرِ

    If your heart, after me, has turned to stone,

    then be certain that my heart is not of stone.

  4. لا أَستَطيعُ اِحتِمالَ الحُبِّ مُهتَجَراً

    قَد كُنتُ أَضعَفَ مِنهُ غَيرَ مُهتَجَرِ

    I cannot bear love while forsaken;

    I was too weak for it even when not forsaken.

  5. زيدي عَلى نَظرَةٍ وَعداً أَعيشُ بِهِ

    لا يَشتَفي الهائِمُ الحَرّانُ بِالنَظَرِ

    Add to a glance a promise I can live by;

    gazing does not heal the burning, love-crazed lover.

  6. يَخشى عَليكِ أُناسٌ في زِيارَتِنا

    طَعنَ الوُشاةِ وَهَل يُخشى عَلى القَمَرِ

    Some people fear for you, when you visit us,

    the slanderers' attacks—but can one fear for the moon?

  7. قَد يَغتَشي الشَمسَ طَرفُ العَينِ غادِيَةً

    ثُمَّ تَؤوبُ وَلَم تَدنَس وَلَم تُضَرِ

    An eye's glance may alight upon the sun as she goes forth at dawn;

    then she returns, neither stained nor harmed.

  8. أَنتِ الطَبيبُ فَما تَقضِينَ في رَجُلٍ

    يَدعو الأَطِبّاءَ بَينَ المَوتِ وَالسَهَرِ

    You are the physician; what do you prescribe for a man

    who calls for physicians between death and sleeplessness?

  9. ما أَقرَبَ العَيشَ مِنهُ إِن صَفوتِ لَهُ

    وَما أَجَرَّ عَليهِ المَوتَ بِالكَدَرِ

    How near life is to him if you are true to him,

    and how forcefully bitterness draws death upon him!

  10. هَل تَذكُرينَ جُنوحَ العَصرِ مَجلِسَنا

    يَومَ اِلتَقَينا بِأَشواقٍ عَلى قَدَرِ

    Do you remember our sitting together as the afternoon waned,

    the day we met in longing, as fate decreed?

  11. لَقَد ذَكَرتُ وَما حُبّى بِذاكِرَةٍ

    ما كانَ مِنّي وَمِنها مَوهِنَ البَصَرِ

    I have remembered—though Hubba does not remember—

    what passed between her and me when sight grew dim,

  12. إِذ نَجتَليها وَإِذ نُسقى عَلى ظَمَاءٍ

    بِالراحِ خالَطَ أَنفاساً مِنَ القُطُرِ

    when we gazed upon her and, thirsting, were given drink:

    wine mingled with fragrant breaths of aloeswood,

  13. مِن لُؤلُؤٍ أَشِرِ الأَطرافِ مَنبَتُهُ

    في طَيِّبِ الطَعمِ عَذبٍ بارِدٍ خَصِرِ

    from pearls with serrated tips, rooted

    in a sweet-tasting mouth, fresh, cool, and chill.

  14. يا نِعمَهُ مَجلِساً سَدّى مَحاسِنُهُ

    مَن لا يَؤوبُ وَإِن أَمسى عَلى دِرَرِ

    What a splendid gathering! Its charms bestowed their favors on

    one who would not go home, though evening found him in pouring rain.

  15. ما زالَ مِنهُ رَسيسٌ لا يُفارِقُني

    في الرَأسِ وَالعَينِ وَالأَوصالِ كَالسُكُرِ

    A lingering trace of it never leaves me,

    in my head, my eye, and my limbs, like intoxication.

  16. وَمِن مُنى النَفسِ أَخدانٌ لِجارِيَةٍ

    لَم تَلقَ بُؤساً وَلَم تُصبح عَلى سَفَرِ

    And the soul longs to be among a maiden's intimates,

    one who has known no hardship and never risen for a journey.

  17. حَدا بِها اللَيلُ مِن بَيتي وَقَد حَسَرَت

    عَن جيدِ أُدمانَةٍ بِالسِرِّ أَو بَصَرِ

    Night drove her from my house, after she had bared

    the neck of a tawny gazelle of al-Sirr or Basar,

  18. وَوارِدٍ كَعَريشِ الكَرمِ تَجعَلُهُ

    بواضِحٍ يَجعَلُ العَينَينِ في حَوَرِ

    and flowing tresses like a vine's trellis, which she lays

    against a radiant face that sets off the eyes' dark-and-white contrast.

  19. ما دَومَةٌ بَالنَدى طابَت وَطَيَّبَها

    ثَلاثَةٌ مِثلُ أَدعاصِ المُلا المَطِرِ

    No doum palm, made fragrant by dew and further perfumed

    by three like the dunes of rain-soaked al-Mula—

  20. وَالدَعصُ تَحسَبُهُ وَسنانَ أَو كَسِلاً

    غَضُّ وَقَد مالَ مَيلاً غَيرَ مُنكَسِرِ

    and the dune, you would think, is drowsy or languid,

    supple, leaning without breaking.

  21. قَد جَلَّ ما بَينَ حِجلَيها وَمِئزَرِها

    وَاِهتَزَّ كَالأَيمِ ما عالى عَنِ الأُزُرِ

    Ample is what lies between her anklets and her waist-wrap,

    and what rises above the waist-wraps sways like a serpent.

  22. يَحيا الهَوى بِرَخيمٍ مِن مَناطِقِها

    مُفَصَّلٍ كَنُجومِ الغارِبِ الزُهُرِ

    Love comes alive at a soft strain of her speech,

    clear and distinct as the bright stars of the western sky.

  23. جِنِّيَّةُ الحُسنِ لا بَل في مَجاسِدِها

    ما لَم تَرَ العَينُ بَينَ الجِنِّ وَالبَشَرِ

    A jinni maiden in beauty—no, within her garments lies

    what no eye has seen among jinn or humankind.

  24. كَأَنَّ أَعطافَها لَوزٌ مُحَمَّضَةٌ

    يَخرُجنَ مِن هايِلِ الأَعطافِ مُنعَفِرِ

    Her flanks seem like soured almonds,

    emerging from a vast, dust-covered mass of curves.

  25. تَمشي الهُوَينا فَيَختالُ الصَعيدُ بِها

    وَيَحسَبُ القَومُ قَد سارَت وَلَم تَسِرِ

    She walks gently, and the ground struts with her;

    people think she has moved on, though she has not moved.

  26. تِلكَ المُنى سَخَّطَتنا بَعدَما قَرُبَت

    فَلا تَعيجُ بِتَهويمٍ وَلا سَمَرِ

    Those hopes have embittered us after drawing near;

    and she heeds neither dozing nor night-time talk.

  27. وَلَو تُساعِدُنا كُنّا بِنَدوَتِها

    كَالقَوسِ أَيَّدَها الرامونَ بِالوَتَرِ

    Yet if she would favor us, in her company we would be

    like a bow the archers have strengthened with its string.