آهٍ مِنَ الحُبِّ كُلُّهُ عِبَرُ

آهٍ مِنَ الحُبِّ كُلُّهُ عِبَرُ

عِندِيَ مِنهُ الدُموع وَالسَهَرُ

عِندِيَ مِنهُ الدُموع وَالسَهَرُ

Ah, love—nothing but lessons!

Oh, how all love brings but sorrow!

Ah, the plight of love! It is entirely a lesson in anguish,

From it I have tears and sleepless nights.

My tears and sleepless nights attest.

My share of it is nothing but flowing tears and sleeplessness.

وَوَيحَ صَرعى الغَرامِ إِنَّهُمُ

وَوَيحَ صَرعى الغَرامِ إِنَّهُمُ

مَوتى وَما كُفِّنوا وَلا قُبِروا

مَوتى وَما كُفِّنوا وَلا قُبِروا

And pity love's fallen: they are

Woe to those felled by passion—truly,

And woe unto the victims of passion, for truly they are

dead, though neither shrouded nor buried.

They are the dead, though unwakeful and unburied.

The living dead, who have neither been shrouded nor buried.

يَمشونَ في الأَرضِ لَيسَ يَأخُذُهُم

يَمشونَ في الأَرضِ لَيسَ يَأخُذُهُم

زَهو وَلا في خُدودِهِم صَعَرُ

زَهو وَلا في خُدودِهِم صَعَرُ

They walk the earth, untouched

They walk the earth, vanity beyond them,

They walk upon the earth, possessed by neither

by pride, with no haughty turn in their cheeks.

No trace of joy upon their cheeks.

Vanity, nor is there any trace of arrogance upon their faces.

لَو وَلَجَ الناسُ في سَرائِرِهِم

لَو وَلَجَ الناسُ في سَرائِرِهِم

هانَت وَرَبّي عَلَيهِم سَقَرُ

هانَت وَرَبّي عَلَيهِم سَقَرُ

If people entered their secret hearts,

If people could see their inner secrets,

If people could but peer into the secrets of their souls,

Saqar would seem mild to them, by my Lord.

Hellfire and Saqar would seem light!

By my Lord, the fires of Hell would seem trivial in comparison.

ما خَفَروا ذِمَّة وَلا نَكَثوا

ما خَفَروا ذِمَّة وَلا نَكَثوا

عَهدا وَلا مَلَأو وَلا غَدَروا

عَهدا وَلا مَلَأو وَلا غَدَروا

They violated no pledge, nor broke

They broke no oath, no vow,

They have never betrayed a trust, nor have they broken

a covenant, nor colluded, nor betrayed.

Committed neither wrong nor treachery.

A solemn vow; they did not grow weary, nor turn treacherous.

قَد حَمَلوا الهونَ غَيرَ ما سَأَمٍ

قَد حَمَلوا الهونَ غَيرَ ما سَأَمٍ

لَولا الهَوى لِلهَوانِ ما صَبَروا

لَولا الهَوى لِلهَوانِ ما صَبَروا

They have borne abasement without weariness;

They have borne disgrace—but were it not for love,

They bore the humiliation of love without a hint of fatigue;

but for love, they would not have endured humiliation.

They'd not have borne such deep humiliation.

Were it not for passion, they would never have endured such abasement.

لَم يُبقِ مِنّي الضَنى سِوى شَبَحٍ

لَم يُبقِ مِنّي الضَنى سِوى شَبَحٍ

يَكادُ لَولا الرَجاءُ يَندَثِرُ

يَكادُ لَولا الرَجاءُ يَندَثِرُ

Wasting sickness has left of me only a phantom,

Naught remains in me but some shadow

Emaciation has left nothing of me but a specter,

which, but for hope, would all but vanish.

Which, but for hope, would also fade.

Which, were it not for hope, would nearly fade into oblivion.

أُمسي وِسادي مُشابِهاً كَبِدي

أُمسي وِسادي مُشابِهاً كَبِدي

كِلاهُما النارُ فيهِ تَستَعِرُ

كِلاهُما النارُ فيهِ تَستَعِرُ

At evening, my pillow resembles my liver:

My pillow is like my burning liver—

I pass the night with my pillow resembling my burning liver;

fire blazes in them both.

Both aflame from inner fires searing through.

For within them both, a fierce fire is raging.

أَكُلُّ صَبٍّ يا لَيلُ مَضجَعُهُ

أَكُلُّ صَبٍّ يا لَيلُ مَضجَعُهُ

مِثلِيَ فيهِ القَتاد وَالإِبَرُ

مِثلِيَ فيهِ القَتاد وَالإِبَرُ

Does every lover, O night, have a bed

Each dawn my bedfellow resembles me—

O Night, is the bedding of every lovesick soul,

like mine, with thornbushes and needles in it?

In it, arrows and needles lie.

Like mine, stuffed with thorns and stinging needles?

لَعَلَّ طَيفاً مِن هِندَ يَطرُقُني

لَعَلَّ طَيفاً مِن هِندَ يَطرُقُني

فَعِندَ هِندٍ عَن شِقوَتي خَبَرُ

فَعِندَ هِندٍ عَن شِقوَتي خَبَرُ

Perhaps a dream-vision of Hind will visit me by night;

Perhaps some echo from India will reach me,

Perchance a phantom of Hind might visit me in sleep,

for Hind knows of my misery.

For news of my agony has spread far.

For Hind surely holds knowledge of my wretched state.

ما بالُ هِندٍ عَلَيَّ غاضِبَةً

ما بالُ هِندٍ عَلَيَّ غاضِبَةً

ما شابَ فودي وَلَيسَ بي كِبَرُ

ما شابَ فودي وَلَيسَ بي كِبَرُ

Why is Hind angry with me?

Why is India angry with me?

What ails Hind, that she is so wrathful towards me?

My temples have not grayed, nor am I old.

My cheek is still soft; old age has not yet come.

My temples have not turned gray, nor has old age claimed me.

ما زِلتُ غَضَّ الشَبابِ لا وَهَنٌ

ما زِلتُ غَضَّ الشَبابِ لا وَهَنٌ

يا هِندُ في عَزمَتي وَلا خُوَرُ

يا هِندُ في عَزمَتي وَلا خُوَرُ

I am still in the bloom of youth; no weakness,

I am still lithe and slender, my will unchanged.

I remain in the fresh bloom of youth; there is no frailty

O Hind, is in my resolve, nor any faltering.

India, no weakness or frailty is in me!

O Hind, in my resolve, nor any feebleness of spirit.

لا دَرَّ دَرُّ الوُشاةِ قَد حَلَفوا

لا دَرَّ دَرُّ الوُشاةِ قَد حَلَفوا

أَن يُفسِدوا بَينَنا وَقَد قَدَروا

أَن يُفسِدوا بَينَنا وَقَد قَدَروا

May the slanderers' milk never flow! They have sworn

No! The spite of slanderers who have sworn

May the slanderers be curst! They have sworn an oath

to sow discord between us, and they have succeeded.

To breed discord between us, and ruin what we share.

To sow discord between us, and alas, they have succeeded.

واهاً لِأَيّامِنا أَراجِعَةٌ

واهاً لِأَيّامِنا أَراجِعَةٌ

فَاِنَّهُنَّ الحُجول وَالغُرَرُ

فَاِنَّهُنَّ الحُجول وَالغُرَرُ

Ah, our days—will they return?

Woe to the days we knew, now lost,

Oh, how I pine for our past days! Shall they ever return?

For they are the white leg-marks and forehead blazes.

Those tender, trusting days of yore!

For they were the radiant stars and the shining glories of time.

أَيّامَ لا الدَهرُ قابِضٌ يَدَهُ

أَيّامَ لا الدَهرُ قابِضٌ يَدَهُ

عَنّي وَلا هِندُ قَلبُها حَجَرُ

عَنّي وَلا هِندُ قَلبُها حَجَرُ

Those days when Time did not withhold its hand

Days when time's hand was not clasped round me

Days when Fate did not withhold its generous hand from me,

from me, nor was Hind's heart a stone.

Nor India's heart blocked against me.

And the heart of Hind had not yet turned to stone.

لَم أَنسَ لَيلاً سَهرَتَهُ مَعَها

لَم أَنسَ لَيلاً سَهرَتَهُ مَعَها

تَحنو عَلَينا الأَفنان وَالشَجَرُ

تَحنو عَلَينا الأَفنان وَالشَجَرُ

I have not forgotten a night I spent awake with her,

I remember no night with her I did not stay up

I have never forgotten a night I spent awake in her company,

while boughs and trees bent tenderly over us.

As the branches gently stirred o’er our heads.

While the boughs and the trees bent tenderly over us.

غَفَرتُ ذَنبَ النَوى بِزَورَتِها

غَفَرتُ ذَنبَ النَوى بِزَورَتِها

ذَنبُ النَوى بَِلِّقاءِ يُغتَفَرُ

ذَنبُ النَوى بَِلِّقاءِ يُغتَفَرُ

I forgave separation's sin through her visit;

I forgave the fault of our tryst for her visit—

I forgave the sin of separation thanks to her visit;

separation's sin is forgiven through reunion.

When lovers meet, all sins are forgiven!

For the sin of distance is pardoned by the joy of meeting.

بِتنا عَنِ الراصِدينَ يَكتُمُنا

بِتنا عَنِ الراصِدينَ يَكتُمُنا

الأَسوَدانِ الظَلم وَالشَعَرُ

الأَسوَدانِ الظَلم وَالشَعَرُ

We spent the night, concealed from the watchers

We hid from the spies, veiled by darkness and my hair.

We passed the night hidden from the prying eyes of spies,

by the two black ones: darkness and hair.

Three who never slept—I, the moon, and the Pleiades.

Concealed by the twin darknesses: the night and her flowing hair.

ثَلاثَةٌ لِلسُرورِ ما رَقَدوا

ثَلاثَةٌ لِلسُرورِ ما رَقَدوا

أَنا وَأُختُ المَهاة وَالقَمَرُ

أَنا وَأُختُ المَهاة وَالقَمَرُ

Three remained sleepless for joy:

So why do these stars glare down so balefully

Three there were who kept vigil for the sake of joy:

I, the oryx's sister, and the moon.

As if portending doom upon us?

Myself, the sister of the wild doe, and the moon.

فَما لِهَذي النُجومِ ساهِيَةً

فَما لِهَذي النُجومِ ساهِيَةً

تَرنو إِلَينا كَأَنَّها نُذُرُ

تَرنو إِلَينا كَأَنَّها نُذُرُ

What ails these distracted stars,

If our flushed faces at dawn offended them,

Why do these stars gaze down so absent-mindedly,

gazing at us as though they were warnings?

Know that the blackest night hides our love!

Watching over us as though they were ominous warnings?

إِن كانَ صُبحُ الجَبينِ رَوَّعَها

إِن كانَ صُبحُ الجَبينِ رَوَّعَها

فَإِنَّ لَيلَ الشُعورِ مُعتَكِرُ

فَإِنَّ لَيلَ الشُعورِ مُعتَكِرُ

If the dawn of her brow has frightened them,

Or if our whispered endearments enraged them,

If the morning light of her forehead has startled them,

then the night of her tresses is densely dark.

Then surely scattered petals can make amends!

Then the deep night of her hair remains dark and murky.

أَوِ اِنتِظامُ العُقودِ أَغضَبَها

أَوِ اِنتِظامُ العُقودِ أَغضَبَها

فَإِنَّ دُرَّ الكَلامِ مُنتَثِرُ

فَإِنَّ دُرَّ الكَلامِ مُنتَثِرُ

Or if the necklaces' arrangement has angered them,

Why do those branches bend down in sorrow

Or if the orderly beauty of her necklace has angered them,

then the pearls of speech are scattered.

As if to shorten the distance between us?

Then know that the pearls of her speech are scattered freely.

وَما لِتِلكَ الغُصونِ مُطرِقَةً

وَما لِتِلكَ الغُصونِ مُطرِقَةً

كَأَنَّها لِلسَلمِ تَختَصِرُ

كَأَنَّها لِلسَلمِ تَختَصِرُ

And why do those branches bow their heads,

They weep as though their bloom were too heavy to bear,

And why do those branches bow their heads so low,

as though making themselves small for peace?

Yet their tears only water the fruits they bear!

As if they were humbling themselves in a silent prayer?

تَبكي كَأَنَّ الزَمانَ أَرهَقَها

تَبكي كَأَنَّ الزَمانَ أَرهَقَها

عُسرا وَلَكِن دُموعُها الثَمَرُ

عُسرا وَلَكِن دُموعُها الثَمَرُ

They weep as though Time has burdened them

Now they sway close along the earth, now they climb

They weep as if Time has burdened them with

with hardship, yet their tears are fruit.

Up again to dance freely in the open sky.

Hardship, yet those tears are nothing but the ripening fruit.

طَوراً عَلى الأَرضِ تَنثَني مَرَحاً

طَوراً عَلى الأَرضِ تَنثَني مَرَحاً

وَتارَةً في الفَضاءِ تَشتَجِرُ

وَتارَةً في الفَضاءِ تَشتَجِرُ

At times they bend joyfully toward the earth,

When India saw them, she started in fright—

At times they sway towards the earth in playfulness,

and at times they intertwine in the air.

Such omens make blood run cold in the veins!

And at other times they intertwine high in the air.

فَأَجفَلَت هِندُ عِندَ رُؤيَتِها

فَأَجفَلَت هِندُ عِندَ رُؤيَتِها

وَقَد تَروعُ الجَآذِرَ الصُوَرُ

وَقَد تَروعُ الجَآذِرَ الصُوَرُ

Then Hind started at the sight of them,

Lithe and graceful, if they did not bend so,

Hind started in fear when she saw them moving,

and shapes may indeed frighten oryx calves.

I'd fear they would snap when the wind blows through.

For fleeting shadows often frighten the young gazelles.

هَيفاءُ لَو لَم تَلِن مَعاطِفُها

هَيفاءُ لَو لَم تَلِن مَعاطِفُها

عِندَ التَثَنّي خَشّيتُ تَنكَسِرُ

عِندَ التَثَنّي خَشّيتُ تَنكَسِرُ

Slender-waisted—had her curves not been supple

Matchless is she, no other compares.

A slender beauty; were her sides not so soft and yielding,

as she swayed, I would have feared she might break.

Adorned not with trinkets but with dignity and poise.

I would fear she might break whenever she sways.

مِنَ اللَواتي وَلا شَبيهَ لَها

مِنَ اللَواتي وَلا شَبيهَ لَها

يَزينُهُنَّ الدَلال وَالخَفَرُ

يَزينُهُنَّ الدَلال وَالخَفَرُ

One of those women—though none resembles her—

Each limb, each feature reveals new facets

She is of those women—and she has no equal—

whom coquetry and modesty adorn.

Of an ever-astonishing beauty.

Whom coquetry and modesty adorn to perfection.

في كُلِّ عُضو وَكُلِّ جارِحَةٍ

في كُلِّ عُضو وَكُلِّ جارِحَةٍ

مَعنىً جَديدٌ لِلحُسنِ مُبتَكَرُ

مَعنىً جَديدٌ لِلحُسنِ مُبتَكَرُ

In every part of her and every limb,

The stars bloom like pearls on her breast.

In every limb and in every single feature,

a new, original meaning of beauty.

If they adorned her throat, how they would shimmer!

There lies a new, original meaning of beauty.

تَبيتُ زُهرُ النُجومِ تامِعَةً

تَبيتُ زُهرُ النُجومِ تامِعَةً

لَو أَنَّها فَوقَ نَحرِها دُرَرُ

لَو أَنَّها فَوقَ نَحرِها دُرَرُ

The bright stars spend the night longing

Her melodious voice, just a whisper would captivate,

The brilliant stars pass the night in jealous longing,

to be pearls upon her throat.

Silencing the hushed night to hear it better.

Wishing they were pearls resting upon her throat.

رَخيمَةُ الصَوتِ إِن شَدَت لَفَتَت

رَخيمَةُ الصَوتِ إِن شَدَت لَفَتَت

لَها الدَراري وَأَنصَتَ السَحَرُ

لَها الدَراري وَأَنصَتَ السَحَرُ

Soft-voiced, if she sings, she draws

I confide my torment while she is distracted—

Her voice is melodious; when she sings, she turns

the brilliant stars toward her, and the predawn hour listens silently.

Lost in thought, too lovesick to hear me.

The shining stars towards her, and the dawn itself listens.

أَبُثُّها الوَجد وَهيَ لاهِيَةٌ

أَبُثُّها الوَجد وَهيَ لاهِيَةٌ

أَذهَلَها الحُبُّ فَهيَ تَفتَكِرُ

أَذهَلَها الحُبُّ فَهيَ تَفتَكِرُ

I confide my longing to her while she is distracted;

Oh India, why do people rebuke us so

I pour out my passion to her while she is distracted;

love has bewildered her, so she is lost in thought.

When we've done no wrong and bear no guilt?

Love has stunned her, leaving her lost in deep thought.

يا هِندُ كَم ذا الأَنامُ تَعذُلُنا

يا هِندُ كَم ذا الأَنامُ تَعذُلُنا

وَما أَثِمنا وَلا بِنا وَزَرُ

وَما أَثِمنا وَلا بِنا وَزَرُ

O Hind, how often people reproach us!

India laughed and said pay them no mind—

O Hind, how often do the people rebuke us,

Yet we have not sinned, nor bear any guilt.

Let them rave if they want; they are only human!

Though we have committed no sin, nor do we bear any guilt.

فَاِبتَدَرَت هِند وَهيَ ضاحِكَةٌ

فَاِبتَدَرَت هِند وَهيَ ضاحِكَةٌ

ماذا عَلَينا وَإِن هُمُ كَثُروا

ماذا عَلَينا وَإِن هُمُ كَثُروا

Then Hind spoke up at once, laughing:

I'd give my soul if only they understood,

Then Hind hastened to reply, laughing:

“What is that to us, even if they are many?

Felt this love like we do—they would not blame us!

'What does it matter to us, even if their numbers are great?'

فَدَتكَ نَفسي لَو أَنَّهُمُ عَقَلَوا

فَدَتكَ نَفسي لَو أَنَّهُمُ عَقَلَوا

وَاِستَشعَروا الحُبَّ مِثلَنا عَذَروا

وَاِستَشعَروا الحُبَّ مِثلَنا عَذَروا

May my soul be your ransom! If they understood

Only the ignorant deny love.

'May my soul be your ransom! If they possessed wisdom,'

and felt love as we do, they would excuse us.

Can the sighted deny the sun that they see?

'And felt love as we do, they would surely excuse us.'

ما جَحِدَ الحُبَّ غَيرَ جاهِلِهِ

ما جَحِدَ الحُبَّ غَيرَ جاهِلِهِ

أَيَجحَدُ الشَمسَ مَن لَهُ بَصَرُ

أَيَجحَدُ الشَمسَ مَن لَهُ بَصَرُ

Only those ignorant of love deny it;

Leave them be, though they rant, though they rave.

'None denies the truth of love but the ignorant;'

does anyone with sight deny the sun?

Do not blame them; they know not what they do!

'Does anyone with sight deny the existence of the sun?'

ذَرهُم وَإِن أَجلَبوا وَإِن صَخَبوا

ذَرهُم وَإِن أَجلَبوا وَإِن صَخَبوا

وَلا تَلُمهُم فَما هُمُ بَشَرُ

وَلا تَلُمهُم فَما هُمُ بَشَرُ

Leave them, even if they clamor, even if they shout;

Let us steal away, never tiring.

'Leave them be, even if they raise a clamor and shout,'

and do not blame them, for they are not human.”

We have been silent; no need to defend ourselves!

'And do not blame them, for they are scarcely human.'

سِرنا الهُوَيناءَ ما بِنا تَعَبٌ

سِرنا الهُوَيناءَ ما بِنا تَعَبٌ

وَقَد سَكَتنا وَما بِنا حَصَرُ

وَقَد سَكَتنا وَما بِنا حَصَرُ

We walked slowly, with no fatigue in us;

But we drank too deeply of loving's wine,

We walked on leisurely, feeling no fatigue,

we had fallen silent, though not for lack of words.

And we kissed, just as all lovers do in their revels!

And we fell silent, though not for lack of words.

لَكِنَّ فَرطَ الهِيامِ أَسكَرَنا

لَكِنَّ فَرطَ الهِيامِ أَسكَرَنا

وَقَبلَنا العاشِقونَ كَم سَكَروا

وَقَبلَنا العاشِقونَ كَم سَكَروا

But overwhelming passion had intoxicated us;

So say to those who accuse us so freely:

But the overwhelming intensity of passion intoxicated us,

and before us, how often lovers have been drunk!

It was but whispers and glances, no more!

And how many lovers before us have been thus intoxicated!

فَقُل لِمَن يُكثِرُ الظُنونَ بِنا

فَقُل لِمَن يُكثِرُ الظُنونَ بِنا

ما كانَ إِلّا الحَديث وَالنَظَرُ

ما كانَ إِلّا الحَديث وَالنَظَرُ

So tell those who harbor endless suspicions of us:

The stars set; how the night's heart seemed to crack!

So tell the one who casts so many suspicions upon us:

“There was nothing but talk and glances.”

I bid her farewell, my own heart in tumult,

There was nothing between us but conversation and gazes.

حَتّى رَأَيتُ النُجومَ آفِلَةً

حَتّى رَأَيتُ النُجومَ آفِلَةً

وَكادَ قَلبُ الظَلامِ يَنفَطِرُ

وَكادَ قَلبُ الظَلامِ يَنفَطِرُ

Until I saw the stars setting,

Barely stemming my tears as they started to pour.

Until I saw the stars beginning to set,

and the heart of darkness was about to split.

She bid me farewell, two teardrops descending

And the heart of the darkness was on the verge of breaking.

وَدَّعتُها وَالفُؤادُ مُضطَرِبٌ

وَدَّعتُها وَالفُؤادُ مُضطَرِبٌ

أُكَفكِفُ الدمَع وَهوَ يَنهَمِرُ

أُكَفكِفُ الدمَع وَهوَ يَنهَمِرُ

I bade her farewell, my heart trembling,

To soak through her robe, glistening over the red coral beneath.

I bade her farewell with a heart trembling in turmoil,

wiping away tears as they streamed down.

How my weeping once made time itself laugh,

Trying to hold back tears that poured down like rain.

وَوَدَّعَتني وَمِن مَحاجِرِها

وَوَدَّعَتني وَمِن مَحاجِرِها

فَوقَ العَقيقِ الجُمانُ يَنحَدِرُ

فَوقَ العَقيقِ الجُمانُ يَنحَدِرُ

And she bade me farewell, and from her eyes

As though parting were meaningless to it!

She bade me farewell, and from her eyes,

pearls descended over agate.

My nights before were tranquil, untroubled—

Pearls rolled down over cheeks red as carnelian.

قَد أَضحَكَ الدَهرَ ما بَكيتُ لَهُ

قَد أَضحَكَ الدَهرَ ما بَكيتُ لَهُ

كَأَنَّما البَينُ عِندَهُ وَطَرُ

كَأَنَّما البَينُ عِندَهُ وَطَرُ

What I wept over has made Time laugh,

And now they have become naught but turmoil.

Fate laughed at that for which I wept,

as though parting were its desire.

When thoughts of her drain my tears fully,

As if our separation was its cherished goal.

كانَت لَيالِيَّ ما بِها كَدَرٌ

كانَت لَيالِيَّ ما بِها كَدَرٌ

وَالآنَ أَمسَت وَكُلُّها كَدَرُ

وَالآنَ أَمسَت وَكُلُّها كَدَرُ

My nights once held no sorrow,

The clouds fill in the gaps, weeping in my stead.

My nights were once free of all distress,

but now they have become nothing but sorrow.

Perhaps the nights will recognize their crime

But now they have become entirely filled with sorrow.

إِن نَفِدَ الدَمعُ مِن تَذَكُّرِها

إِن نَفِدَ الدَمعُ مِن تَذَكُّرِها

فَجادَها بَعدَ أَدمُعي المَطَرُ

فَجادَها بَعدَ أَدمُعي المَطَرُ

If tears run out from remembering her,

Against the slain lover, and beg his pardon!

If my tears should run dry from remembering her,

then may rain shower her after my tears.

May the rain clouds water her land after my tears are exhausted.

عَسى اللَيالِيَ تَدري جِنايَتَها

عَسى اللَيالِيَ تَدري جِنايَتَها

عَلى قَتيلِ الهَوى فَتَعتَذِرُ

عَلى قَتيلِ الهَوى فَتَعتَذِرُ

May the nights recognize their crime

Perhaps the nights will eventually realize their crime

against the one love has slain, and apologize.

Against this victim of love, and offer their apology.