1. روحي الَّتي بِالأَمسِ كانَت تَرتَعُ

    في الغابِ مِثلَ الظَبيَةِ القَمراءِ

    My soul, which yesterday was grazing

    In the forest like a white doe,

  2. تَقتاتُ بِالثَمَرِ الجَنِيِّ فَتَشبَعُ

    وَيَبُلُّ غَلَّتَها رَشاشُ الماءِ

    Feeding on ripe fruit and having its fill,

    While a spray of water quenched its thirst,

  3. نَظَرَت إِلَيكِ فَأَصبَحَت لا تَقنَعُ

    بِالماءِ وَالأَفياءِ في الغَبراءِ

    Looked toward you and became no longer content

    With water and shade on the dusty earth.

  4. تُصغي وَتُنصِتُ وَالحَمامَةُ تَسجَعُ

    إِصغاؤُها لَكَ لَيسَ لِلوَرقاءِ

    It listens and attends while the dove coos;

    It listens to you, not to the gray dove.

  5. نادَيتِها فَلَها إِلَيكِ تَطلَعُ

    هَذا التَطَلُّعُ كانَ أَصلَ شَقائي

    You called it, and it yearns toward you;

    This yearning was the root of my misery.

  6. جَنَّحتَني كَيما أَطيرَ فَلَم أَطِر

    هَيهاتِ إِنَّكِ قَد طَوَيتِ سَمائي

    You gave me wings so I might fly, yet I did not fly.

    Impossible—you have already folded up my sky.

  7. قَد كانَ يَسبيني الجَمالُ الرائِعُ

    حَتّى لَمَحتُكِ فَهوَ لا يَسبيني

    Once splendid beauty held me captive,

    Until I glimpsed you; now it no longer captivates me.

  8. عَصَفَت بِصَدري لِليَقينِ زَوابِعُ

    ثَلَّت عُروشَ تَوَهُّمي وَظُنوني

    Whirlwinds of certainty swept through my breast,

    Toppling the thrones of my illusions and conjectures.

  9. فَأَنا عَلى ما ضاعَ مِنِّيَ جازِعُ

    إِنَّ الَّذي قَد ضاعَ جَدُّ ثَمينِ

    So I grieve over what I have lost;

    What has been lost is precious indeed.

  10. لَولاكِ ما ماتَ الخَيالُ اليافِعُ

    أَفَتَعجَبينَ إِذا كَرِهتُ يَقيني

    But for you, youthful imagination would not have died.

    Are you then surprised if I loathe my certainty?

  11. هَذا صَنيعُكِ بي فَما أَنا صانِعُ

    قَد شاءَ بَحرُكِ أَن تَضِلَّ سَفيني

    This is your doing to me—what am I to do?

    Your sea has willed that my ships lose their way.

  12. جَرَّدتِ هَذا الطينَ مِن أَوهامِهِ

    وَكَبُرتِ عَن قارورَةٍ مِن طينِ

    You stripped this clay of its illusions,

    And outgrew a flask of clay.

  13. كَيفَ الوُصولُ إِلَيكِ يا نارَ القِرى

    أَنا في الحَضيضِ وَأَنتِ في الجَوزاءِ

    How can I reach you, O fire of hospitality?

    I am in the depths, and you in al-Jawza.

  14. لي أَلفُ باصِرَةٍ تَحِنُّ كَما تَرى

    لَكِنَّ دونَكِ أَلفُ أَلفِ غَطاءِ

    I have a thousand eyes that yearn as they see,

    But a thousand thousand veils stand between me and you.

  15. لو مِن ثَرىً مَزَّقتُها بِيَدِ الثَرى

    لَكِنَّها سُجُفٌ مِنَ الأَضواءِ

    Were they made of dust, I would tear them with the hand of dust;

    But they are curtains of light.

  16. ساءَلتُ قَلبي إِذ رَأى فَتَحَيَّرا

    ماذا شَرِبتَ فَمِدتَ قالَ دِمائي

    I questioned my heart when it saw and grew bewildered:

    "What did you drink, that you reeled?" It said, "My blood."

  17. يا لَيتَهُ قَد ظَلَّ أَعمى كَالوَرى

    فَلَقَد نَعِمتُ وَكانَ في ظَلماءِ

    Oh, if only it had remained blind like humankind;

    For I was happy while it dwelt in darkness.

  18. قَد شَوَّشَت كَفُّ النَهارِ سَكينَتي

    يا هَذِهِ رُدّي إِلَيَّ مَسائي

    The hand of day has disturbed my peace.

    O you, give my evening back to me!

  19. أَمسَيتُ حينَ لَمَستِني بِيَدَيكِ

    لي أَلفُ باصِرَةٍ وَأَلفُ جَناحِ

    When you touched me with your two hands, I came to have

    A thousand eyes and a thousand wings.

  20. وَلَمَحتُ نارَ الوَحيِ في عَينَيكِ

    وَالوَحيُ كانَ سُلافَةَ الأَرواحِ

    And I glimpsed the fire of inspiration in your eyes;

    And inspiration was the choicest wine of souls.

  21. فَنَشَرتُ أَجنِحَتي وَحُمتُ عَلَيكِ

    مُتَوَهِّماً أَنّي وَجَدتُ صَباحي

    So I spread my wings and circled over you,

    Imagining that I had found my morning.

  22. قَد كانَ حَتفي في الدُنُوِّ إِلَيكِ

    حَتفُ الفَراشَةِ في فَمِ المِصباحِ

    My death lay in drawing near to you—

    A moth's death in the mouth of the lamp.

  23. فَسَقَطتُ مُرتَعِشاً عَلى قَدَمَيكِ

    أَلنارُ مَهدي وَالدُخانُ وِشاحي

    So I fell trembling at your feet,

    Fire my cradle, and smoke my mantle.

  24. يا لَيتَ نورَكِ حينَ أَحرَقَني اِنطَوى

    فَعَلى ضِيائِكِ قَد لَمَستُ جِراحي

    Oh, if only your light had withdrawn when it burned me;

    For in your radiance I have touched my wounds.