أَعاذِلَO reproacher قَدalready نَهَيتِyou forbade me فَماyet not اِنتَهَيتُI desisted
أَعاذِلَ قَد نَهَيتِ فَما اِنتَهَيتُ
وَقَدand indeed طالَgrew long العِتابُthe reproach فَماyet not اِنثَنَيتُI yielded
وَقَد طالَ العِتابُ فَما اِنثَنَيتُ
O reproacher, you have forbidden me, yet I have not desisted.
I reproach you, though you’ve been forbidden, yet undeterred am I,
And reproach has long continued, yet I have not yielded.
Reprimands prolonged, but steadfast remain, I won’t be turned awry.
أَعاذِلَO reproacher ماas far as مَلَكتِyou have power فَأَقسِرينيthen compel me
أَعاذِلَ ما مَلَكتِ فَأَقسِريني
وَماand not اللَذّاتُthe pleasures إِلّاexcept ماwhat اِشتَهَيتُI desired
وَما اللَذّاتُ إِلّا ما اِشتَهَيتُ
O reproacher, compel me as far as you have power.
I implore you, for you have bewitched me, and made my passions rise,
And pleasures are nothing but what I desire.
There’s no pleasure left, but what you rouse, no joy outside your eyes.
أُطيعُكِI obey you ماso long as عَطَفتِyou turned عَلَيَّtoward me بِرّاًkindly
أُطيعُكِ ما عَطَفتِ عَلَيَّ بِرّاً
وَإِنand if حاوَلتِyou attempted مَعصِيَتيdefying me عَصَيتُI disobeyed
وَإِن حاوَلتِ مَعصِيَتي عَصَيتُ
I obey you so long as you turn kindly toward me.
I’ll obey while you show kindness, though if you spurn me, I’ll defy,
But if you try to defy me, I rebel.
Reproach me now, though years have passed, and youthful games gone by,
أَعاذِلَO reproacher قَدalready كَبِرتُI grew old وَفِيَّand in me مَلهىًplayfulness
أَعاذِلَ قَد كَبِرتُ وَفِيَّ مَلهىً
وَلَوand if أَجرَيتُI pursued غايَتَكِyour goal اِرعَوَيتُI restrained myself
وَلَو أَجرَيتُ غايَتَكِ اِرعَوَيتُ
O reproacher, I have grown old, yet playfulness remains in me.
Had I fulfilled your every whim, I’d have lost my sanity.
And had I pursued your goal, I would have restrained myself.
Those busybodies cast their eyes on me with wicked glee,
لَقَدindeed نَظَرَlooked الوُشاةُthe slanderers إِلَيَّat me شَزراًaskance
لَقَد نَظَرَ الوُشاةُ إِلَيَّ شَزراً
وَمِنand from نَظَريmy gazing إِلَيهاat her ماnot اِشتَفَيتُI found satisfaction
وَمِن نَظَري إِلَيها ما اِشتَفَيتُ
Indeed, the slanderers looked askance at me.
But from ogling them, I’ve abstained, no urge in me they rouse.
Yet gazing at her has not satisfied me.
And they say he lingered there, that he might catch her house,
وَقَالواand they said قَدalready تَعَرَّضَhe sought an encounter كَيso that يَراهاhe might see her
وَقَالوا قَد تَعَرَّضَ كَي يَراها
وَماذاand what ضَرَّهُمharmed them مِمّاfrom what رَأَيتُI saw
وَماذا ضَرَّهُم مِمّا رَأَيتُ
And they said, 'He sought her out to see her.'
What’s it to them, what I have seen? Their words I’ll counter-vow.
And what harm did what I saw do to them?
Naught I’ve asked of her but grace, and kept every promise now,
وَماand not كَلَّفتُهاI required of her إِلّاexcept جَميلاًkindness
وَما كَلَّفتُها إِلّا جَميلاً
وَلاand never عاهَدتُهاI pledged to her إِلّاexcept that وَفَيتُI kept my word
وَلا عاهَدتُها إِلّا وَفَيتُ
And I asked nothing of her but kindness.
When we speak of her in drink, though discourse may multiply,
And I never pledged to her without keeping my word.
I’ll down a glass and weep the next, they’ll leave all sated, while
وَيَومَand the day ذَكَرتُهاI mentioned her فيamong الشَربِthe drinkers إِنّيindeed I
وَيَومَ ذَكَرتُها في الشَربِ إِنّي
إِذاwhenever عَرَضَcame up الحَديثُthe talk بِهاof her اِعتَدَيتُI overstepped the bounds
إِذا عَرَضَ الحَديثُ بِها اِعتَدَيتُ
And the day I mentioned her among the drinkers—for I,
I remain bereft of joy, though disguised my bitter cry.
Whenever talk turns to her, go beyond all bounds—
It’s no secret to boon friends, that for her I sing and sigh,
شَرِبتُI drank زُجاجَةًa bottle وَبَكَيتُand I wept أُخرىanother
شَرِبتُ زُجاجَةً وَبَكَيتُ أُخرى
فَراحواso they went away مُنتَشينَtipsy وَماand not اِنتَشَيتُI became tipsy
فَراحوا مُنتَشينَ وَما اِنتَشَيتُ
I drank one bottle and wept another.
Though with wishes I lament, and words of would that vie,
So they went away tipsy, while I was not.
A maiden who enchants us both, her passion binding nigh,
وَماand not يَخفىis hidden عَلىfrom النُدَماءِthe drinking companions أَنّيthat I
وَما يَخفى عَلى النُدَماءِ أَنّي
أُجيدُI excel at بِهاof her الغِناءَsinging وَإِنand even if كَنَيتُI spoke indirectly
أُجيدُ بِها الغِناءَ وَإِن كَنَيتُ
Nor is it hidden from my drinking companions that I
As Sama’a* once enraptured me, but left me lorn and dry.
Excel at singing of her, even when I veil her name.
Her face adorned with noble traits, her clan and house the same,
وَأَتبَعتُand I pursued المُنىthe wishes بِنَجادِthrough the uplands of لَيتٍif only
وَأَتبَعتُ المُنى بِنَجادِ لَيتٍ
وَماand not يُغنيavails عَنِagainst الطَّرَباتِthe transports of longing لَيتُif only
وَما يُغني عَنِ الطَّرَباتِ لَيتُ
And I pursued my wishes through the uplands of 'if only'.
When I bring my lips to hers, though, sickness racks me without fail.
Yet 'if only' does nothing to ease longing's transports.
For her I wove a poem with the water of my love,
وَجارِيَةٍand a maiden يَسورُsurges بِناthrough us هَواهاlove for her
وَجارِيَةٍ يَسورُ بِنا هَواها
كَماas سارَتcoursed مُشَعشَعَةٌwine diluted with water كُمَيتُdark red
كَما سارَت مُشَعشَعَةٌ كُمَيتُ
And a maiden whose love surges through us,
That she may don it and partake the drink that I’ve proffered in pail.
As dark-red wine, diluted with water, courses.
And in my letter she conveyed, “I shelter you, though if
يُزَيِّنُadorns وَجهُهاher face خَلقاًa body عَميماًtall and well-formed
يُزَيِّنُ وَجهُها خَلقاً عَميماً
وَزَيَّنَand adorned وَجهَهاher face حَسَبٌnoble lineage وَبَيتُand family
وَزَيَّنَ وَجهَها حَسَبٌ وَبَيتُ
Her face adorns a tall, well-formed body.
I espy a breach, at once I’ll leave.” To this I will not fail.
And noble lineage and family adorn her face.
You know my mother’s madness well, and when I donned my cloak
إِذاwhen قَرُبَتshe came near شَفَيتُI cured بِهاthrough her سَقاماًa sickness
إِذا قَرُبَت شَفَيتُ بِها سَقاماً
عَلىupon كَبِديmy liver وَإِنand if شَحَطَتshe went far away بَكَيتُI wept
عَلى كَبِدي وَإِن شَحَطَت بَكَيتُ
When she comes near, through her I cure a sickness
My brothers’ eyes reproached me, whether I walked or rode.
Upon my liver; and if she goes far away, I weep.
For love of you I cowered before them, just as Sukayt** cowers,
نَسَجتُI wove لَهاfor her القَريضَpoetry بِماءِwith the water of وُدّيmy affection
نَسَجتُ لَها القَريضَ بِماءِ وُدّي
لِتَلبَسَهُso she may wear it وَتَشرَبَand she may drink ماwhat سَقَيتُI gave to drink
لِتَلبَسَهُ وَتَشرَبَ ما سَقَيتُ
I wove poetry for her with the water of my affection,
When evening came and she was told I had fallen ill.
For her to wear it and drink what I poured.
Her slave girl sang, beating her tambour, “He came to me, entreating,
وَدَسَّتand she slipped secretly فيinto الكِتابِthe letter إِلَيَّto me إِنّيindeed I
وَدَسَّت في الكِتابِ إِلَيَّ إِنّي
وَقَيتُكَmay I shield you لَوif أَرىI saw خَلَلاًan opening مَضَيتُI set out
وَقَيتُكَ لَو أَرى خَلَلاً مَضَيتُ
And she slipped into her letter to me: 'I—
But if mother spurns, we shall not turn.” My will she will not kill.
May I shield you!—would set out if I saw an opening,
She sang, “Why, mother, would you forbid what I hold dear?
عَلىdespite ماwhat قَدalready عَلِمتَyou knew جُنونُthe madness of أُمّيmy mother
عَلى ما قَد عَلِمتَ جُنونُ أُمّي
وَأَعيُنُand the eyes of إِخوَتيmy brothers مُنذُsince اِرتَدَيتُI donned a mantle
وَأَعيُنُ إِخوَتي مُنذُ اِرتَدَيتُ
Despite what you already know: my mother's madness
Can you deny me what I love? For it has made me ill.
And my brothers' watchful eyes since I donned a mantle.
Is your heart made of stone or iron? None knows what I feel,
يَقولونَthey say اِنعَميenjoy yourself وَيَرَونَand they regard as عاراًa disgrace
يَقولونَ اِنعَمي وَيَرَونَ عاراً
خُروجيmy going out إِنif رَكِبتُI rode وَإِنand if مَشَيتُI walked
خُروجي إِن رَكِبتُ وَإِن مَشَيتُ
They say, "Enjoy yourself," yet deem it a disgrace
And if you loved, you would mourn me, when death makes corpses chill.”
For me to go out, whether I ride or walk.
I call him whom I love, but do not come when he implores,
وَمِنand from طَرَبيmy longing إِلَيكِfor you خَشَعتُI humbled myself فيهِمamong them
وَمِن طَرَبي إِلَيكِ خَشَعتُ فيهِم
كَماas يَتَخَشَّعُhumbles itself الفَرَسُthe horse السُكَيتُfinishing last
كَما يَتَخَشَّعُ الفَرَسُ السُكَيتُ
And out of longing for you, I humbled myself among them,
If I could, when he called, I’d fly to him with utmost will.
As the last-placed horse humbles itself.'
*Sama’a is the name of an ancient Arab poetess who was known for her passionate love poems.
وَقَدand indeed قامَتstood up وَليدَتُهاher maidservant تُغَنّيshe sings
وَقَد قامَت وَليدَتُها تُغَنّي
عَشِيَّةَon the evening جاءَهاreached her أَنّيthat I اِشتَكَيتُI fell ill
عَشِيَّةَ جاءَها أَنّي اِشتَكَيتُ
And her maidservant stood singing
**Sukayt refers to a type of horse known for its gentle and submissive nature.
The evening word reached her that I had fallen ill.
تَقولُshe says وَدُفُّهاand her frame drum زَجَلُresounding النَواحيon all sides
تَقولُ وَدُفُّها زَجَلُ النَواحي
إِذاif أُمّيmy mother أَبَتrefused صِلَتيmy union أَبَيتُI refused
إِذا أُمّي أَبَت صِلَتي أَبَيتُ
She says, with her frame drum resounding on every side:
'If my mother denies me union, I defy her.
دَعانيhe called me مَنthe one whom هَويتُI loved فَلَمbut not أُجِبهُI answered him
دَعاني مَن هَويتُ فَلَم أُجِبهُ
وَلَوand if أَسطيعُI were able حينَwhen دَعاhe called سَعَيتُI hastened
وَلَو أَسطيعُ حينَ دَعا سَعَيتُ
The one I loved called me, but I did not answer him.
Had I been able, I would have hastened when he called.
أَلاah ياO أُمَّتاmy mother لاmay you not كُنتِhave been أُمّاًa mother
أَلا يا أُمَّتا لا كُنتِ أُمّاً
أَأُمنَعُam I denied ماwhat أُحِبُّI love وَقَدand already غَلَيتُI seethed
أَأُمنَعُ ما أُحِبُّ وَقَد غَلَيتُ
Ah, my mother, would that you had never been a mother!
Am I denied what I love, when I am already seething?
أَمِنis it of حَجَرٍstone فُؤادُكِyour heart أَمor حَديدٍiron
أَمِن حَجَرٍ فُؤادُكِ أَم حَديدٍ
وَماand not يَدريknows العَشيرُthe close companion بِماof what دَرَيتُI knew
وَما يَدري العَشيرُ بِما دَرَيتُ
Is your heart of stone, or of iron?
Nor does a close companion know what I have known.
وَماand not تَرثينَyou pity ليme مِمّاfor what أُلاقيI endure
وَما تَرثينَ لي مِمّا أُلاقي
وَإِنَّكِand indeed you لَوif عَشِقتِyou had loved إِذاthen رَثَيتُI pitied
وَإِنَّكِ لَو عَشِقتِ إِذا رَثَيتُ
Nor do you pity me for what I suffer.
And if you had fallen in love, then I would have pitied you.'
Partial English translation: 39 of 50 Arabic lines translated.
Sol 6.1