خُصْلَةُthe lock الشَّعْرِof hair التيthat أَعْطَيْتِنِيهَاyou gave it to me
خُصْلَةُ الشَّعْرِ التي أَعْطَيْتِنِيهَا
عِنْدَمَاwhen البَيْنُparting دَعَانِيcalled me بِالنَّفِيرْwith the call to depart
عِنْدَمَا البَيْنُ دَعَانِي بِالنَّفِيرْ
The lock of hair that you gave me
When parting summoned me to depart—
لَمْnot أَزَلْI cease أَتْلُوI read سُطُورَthe lines الحُبِّof love فِيهَاin it
لَمْ أَزَلْ أَتْلُو سُطُورَ الحُبِّ فِيهَا
وَسَأَتْلُوهَاand I shall read them إِلَىuntil اليَوْمِthe day الأَخِيرْlast
وَسَأَتْلُوهَا إِلَى اليَوْمِ الأَخِيرْ
I have never ceased reading love's lines within it,
And I shall read them until the final day.
خُنْتِyou betrayed عَهْدَthe pledge الحُبِّof love لاno بَأْسَharm فَإنِّيfor indeed I
خُنْتِ عَهْدَ الحُبِّ لا بَأْسَ فَإنِّي
مُكْتَفٍcontent بِالأَثَرِwith the keepsake الغَالِيdear الثَّمِينْprecious
مُكْتَفٍ بِالأَثَرِ الغَالِي الثَّمِينْ
You betrayed love's pledge—no matter, for I am
Content with the dear, precious keepsake.
فَإِذَاso if مَاemphatic particle عُدْتُI return أَحْيَاI live بِالتَّمَنِّيon hopes
فَإِذَا مَا عُدْتُ أَحْيَا بِالتَّمَنِّي
بَعْدَafter أَنْthat مَنَّيْتِنِيyou kept me hoping عَشْرَten سِنِينْyears
بَعْدَ أَنْ مَنَّيْتِنِي عَشْرَ سِنِينْ
So if I once again live on hopes,
After you kept me hoping for ten years,
أَحْمَدُI thank اللهَGod فَمَاfor it is not الإخْلافُthe breaking of promises مِنِّيon my part
أَحْمَدُ اللهَ فَمَا الإخْلافُ مِنِّي
إِنَّنِيindeed I كُنْتُI was لَكِto you الصَّبَّthe ardent lover الأَمِينْfaithful
إِنَّنِي كُنْتُ لَكِ الصَّبَّ الأَمِينْ
I thank God, for the breach of faith was not mine;
Indeed, I was your faithful, ardent lover.
رَاجِعِيreview سِيرَةَthe story حُبِّيof my love .. رَاجِعِيهَاreview it
رَاجِعِي سِيرَةَ حُبِّي .. رَاجِعِيهَا
فَهْيَfor it is نُورٌa light سَاطِعٌshining لِلْمُسْتَنِيرْfor the enlightened
فَهْيَ نُورٌ سَاطِعٌ لِلْمُسْتَنِيرْ
Review the story of my love—review it:
For it is a shining light to the enlightened.
وَإِذَاand if مَرَّتْpasses بِكِby you الرِّيحُthe wind سَلِيهَاask it
وَإِذَا مَرَّتْ بِكِ الرِّيحُ سَلِيهَا
إِنَّهَاindeed it تَعْرِفُknows مِنْof أَمْرِيmy story الكَثِيرْmuch
إِنَّهَا تَعْرِفُ مِنْ أَمْرِي الكَثِيرْ
And if the wind passes by you, ask it;
It knows much of my story.
هَيْكَلُthe temple الحُبِّof love تَدَاعَىcrumbled وَتَرَامَىand collapsed
هَيْكَلُ الحُبِّ تَدَاعَى وَتَرَامَى
تَارِكَاًleaving لِلْعَيْنِfor the eye أَطْلالَthe ruins الوَفَاءْof fidelity
تَارِكَاً لِلْعَيْنِ أَطْلالَ الوَفَاءْ
Love's temple crumbled and collapsed,
Leaving before the eye the ruins of fidelity:
كُتُبَاًletters تُوقِظُawaken فِيin قَلْبِيmy heart الهِيَامَاpassion
كُتُبَاً تُوقِظُ فِي قَلْبِي الهِيَامَا
كُلَّمَاwhenever نَامَit sleeps عَلَىupon ذِكْرِthe memory الجَفَاءْof coldness
كُلَّمَا نَامَ عَلَى ذِكْرِ الجَفَاءْ
Letters that awaken passion in my heart
Whenever it slumbers at the memory of coldness.
إِنَّنِيindeed I أَرْنُوI gaze إِلِىat الخَطِّthe handwriting احْتِرَامَاwith reverence
إِنَّنِي أَرْنُو إِلِى الخَطِّ احْتِرَامَا
فَأَرَىso I see فِيin الخَطِّthe handwriting أَنْقَاضَthe ruins الرَّجَاءْof hope
فَأَرَى فِي الخَطِّ أَنْقَاضَ الرَّجَاءْ
Indeed, I gaze at the handwriting with reverence,
And in the handwriting I see the ruins of hope.
وَأَرَىand I see الأَسْطُرَthe lines آثَارَاًas relics تَقِيهَاprotects them
وَأَرَى الأَسْطُرَ آثَارَاً تَقِيهَا
غَيْرَتِيmy jealous care الشَّمَّاءُproud مِنْfrom عَبَثِthe ravages العُصُورْof the ages
غَيْرَتِي الشَّمَّاءُ مِنْ عَبَثِ العُصُورْ
And I see the lines as relics, shielded
By my proud, jealous care from the ravages of time.
وَأَرَىand I see الحِبْرَthe ink وَقَدْand already جَفَّhas dried شَبِيهَاsimilar
وَأَرَى الحِبْرَ وَقَدْ جَفَّ شَبِيهَا
بِدَمٍto blood جَفَّthat dried عَلَىupon بَعْضِsome of الصُّخُورْthe rocks
بِدَمٍ جَفَّ عَلَى بَعْضِ الصُّخُورْ
And I see the ink, now dry, resembling
Blood dried upon some rocks.
وَأَرَىand I see فِيمَاamong what أَرَىI see شَكْلاًa shape فَظِيعَاterrible
وَأَرَى فِيمَا أَرَى شَكْلاً فَظِيعَا
خُصْلَةَthe lock الشَّعْرِof hair أَرَاهَاI see it فَإِخَالْso I imagine
خُصْلَةَ الشَّعْرِ أَرَاهَا فَإِخَالْ
And among what I see, I see a dreadful shape:
The lock of hair—I see it, then imagine
جُثَّةَthe corpse الحُبِّof love وَقَدْand already خَرَّit fell صَرِيعَاslain
جُثَّةَ الحُبِّ وَقَدْ خَرَّ صَرِيعَا
تَحْتَbeneath أَنْقَاضٍruins عَلَيْهَاover them الدَّمْعُtears سَالْflowed
تَحْتَ أَنْقَاضٍ عَلَيْهَا الدَّمْعُ سَالْ
Love's corpse, fallen slain
Beneath ruins over which tears have flowed.
فَيَفِيضso overflows القَلْبُthe heart مِنْfrom عَيْنِيmy eye دُمُوعَاas tears
فَيَفِيض القَلْبُ مِنْ عَيْنِي دُمُوعَا
وَتَرُوحand departs الرُّوحُthe spirit عَنْfrom دُنْيَاthe world الضَّلالْof delusion
وَتَرُوح الرُّوحُ عَنْ دُنْيَا الضَّلالْ
So my heart pours from my eye in tears,
And the spirit leaves the world of delusion.
تِلْكَthose آثَارُthe relics هَوَانَاof our love فَانْظُرِيهَاso look at them
تِلْكَ آثَارُ هَوَانَا فَانْظُرِيهَا
تَعْلَمِيyou will learn مَاذَاwhat جَنَىhas wrought ذَاكَthat الغُرُورْvanity
تَعْلَمِي مَاذَا جَنَى ذَاكَ الغُرُورْ
Those are the relics of our love; look upon them,
You will learn what that vanity has wrought.
وَدُمُوعٌand tears صُنْتِهَاyou held them back لاdo not تَذْرِفِيهَاshed them
وَدُمُوعٌ صُنْتِهَا لا تَذْرِفِيهَا
لَيْسَnot يَمْحُوerases جُرْمَكِyour crime الدَّمْعُtears الغَزِيرْcopious
لَيْسَ يَمْحُو جُرْمَكِ الدَّمْعُ الغَزِيرْ
And the tears you have held back—do not shed them;
Copious tears do not erase your crime.
رَبْطَةthe bond القَلْبَيْنِof the two hearts حَلَّتْهَاundid it يَدَاكِyour two hands
رَبْطَة القَلْبَيْنِ حَلَّتْهَا يَدَاكِ
وَيَدِيْand my hand تَأْبَىrefuses امْتِهَانَto dishonor الشَّعَرَاتْthe strands of hair
وَيَدِيْ تَأْبَى امْتِهَانَ الشَّعَرَاتْ
Your hands undid the bond between our hearts,
Yet my hand refuses to dishonor the strands.
لَمْnot يُحَرِّكْهَاmoved it إِلَىtoward الإِثْمِsin جَفَاكِyour coldness
لَمْ يُحَرِّكْهَا إِلَى الإِثْمِ جَفَاكِ
فَهْيَfor it لاnot تَعْرِفُknows غَيْرَother than الحَسَنَاتْgood deeds
فَهْيَ لا تَعْرِفُ غَيْرَ الحَسَنَاتْ
Your coldness has not moved it toward sin,
For it knows nothing but good deeds.
لَمْسُهَاits touching مَجْمُوعَةthe bundle الشَّعْرِof hair يُحَاكِيresembles
لَمْسُهَا مَجْمُوعَة الشَّعْرِ يُحَاكِي
لَمْسَtouching هَذَاthis الثَّغْرmouth تِلْكَthose الوَجَنَاتْcheeks
لَمْسَ هَذَا الثَّغْر تِلْكَ الوَجَنَاتْ
Its touch upon the gathered hair is like
Touching these lips, those cheeks.
إِنْif أَعُدْI return بَعْدَafter التَّنَائِيseparation تُبْصِريهَاyou will see it
إِنْ أَعُدْ بَعْدَ التَّنَائِي تُبْصِريهَا
مِثْلَمَاjust as سَلِّمْتِهَاyou handed it over يَوْمَthe day المَسِيرْof departure
مِثْلَمَا سَلِّمْتِهَا يَوْمَ المَسِيرْ
If I return after our separation, you will see it
Just as you handed it over on the day of departure.
فَهْيَfor it is كَالطِفْلَةِlike a little girl فِيin حِضْنِthe embrace أَبِيهَاof her father
فَهْيَ كَالطِفْلَةِ فِي حِضْنِ أَبِيهَا
لاnot تَرَىit sees إلاexcept حَنَانَاًtenderness وَشُعُورْand feeling
لا تَرَى إلا حَنَانَاً وَشُعُورْ
For it is like a little girl in her father's arms,
Seeing nothing but tenderness and affection.
هِيَit أَصْفَىpurer مِنْكِthan you حُبَّاًin love وَودَادَاand affection
هِيَ أَصْفَى مِنْكِ حُبَّاً وَودَادَا
هِيَit أَوْفَىmore faithful مِنْكِthan you رَعْيَاًin regard لِلذِّمَمْfor pledges
هِيَ أَوْفَى مِنْكِ رَعْيَاً لِلذِّمَمْ
It is purer than you in love and affection;
It is more faithful than you in observing pledges.
هِيَit فِيin غَيِّthe waywardness الصِّبَاof youth لَمْnot تَتَمَادَىpersisted
هِيَ فِي غَيِّ الصِّبَا لَمْ تَتَمَادَى
هِيَit لَمْnot تَتْبَعْfollowed هَوَىًa passion جَرَّbrought نَدَمْregret
هِيَ لَمْ تَتْبَعْ هَوَىً جَرَّ نَدَمْ
It did not persist in youthful folly;
It followed no passion that led to regret.
أَنْتِyou قَوَّضْتِyou demolished مِنَof الحُبِّlove العِمَادَاthe pillar
أَنْتِ قَوَّضْتِ مِنَ الحُبِّ العِمَادَا
أَنْتِyou خُنْتِyou betrayed العَهْدَthe pledge عَمْدَاًdeliberately وَهْيَwhile it لَمْdid not
أَنْتِ خُنْتِ العَهْدَ عَمْدَاً وَهْيَ لَمْ
You tore down love's pillar;
You betrayed the pledge deliberately; it did not.
لَمْnot تُرَاوِغْit dissembled، لَمْnot تُرِit showed الصَّبَّthe ardent lover بِفِيهَاin its mouth
لَمْ تُرَاوِغْ، لَمْ تُرِ الصَّبَّ بِفِيهَا
عَسَلاًhoney ، وَالخَلّwhile vinegar فِيin القَلْبِthe heart يَفُورْseethed
عَسَلاً ، وَالخَلّ فِي القَلْبِ يَفُورْ
It never dissembled, never showed its lover, in its mouth,
Honey, while vinegar seethed within its heart.
قَدindeed وَفَتْنِيit kept faith with me ، وَأَنَاand I أَيْضَاًtoo أَفِيهَاI keep faith with it
قَد وَفَتْنِي ، وَأَنَا أَيْضَاً أَفِيهَا
فَكِلانَاfor both of us حَافِظٌa keeper عَهْدَthe pledge العَشِيرْof the companion
فَكِلانَا حَافِظٌ عَهْدَ العَشِيرْ
It has kept faith with me, and I too keep faith with it;
For each of us keeps faith with the other.
كُلَّمَاwhenever أَذْكُرُI remember أَيَّامَthe days صِبَانَاof our youth
كُلَّمَا أَذْكُرُ أَيَّامَ صِبَانَا
وَلَيَالِيهَاand their nights اللَّذِيذَاتِdelightful العِذَابْsweet
وَلَيَالِيهَا اللَّذِيذَاتِ العِذَابْ
Whenever I remember the days of our youth
And their delightful, sweet nights,
تَصْهَرُmelt الأَحْزَانُsorrows فِيin صَدْرِيmy breast الجَنَانَاthe heart
تَصْهَرُ الأَحْزَانُ فِي صَدْرِي الجَنَانَا
فَأُقَاسِيso I suffer كُلَّall أَنْوَاعِkinds العَذَابْof torment
فَأُقَاسِي كُلَّ أَنْوَاعِ العَذَابْ
Sorrows melt the heart within my breast,
So I suffer every kind of torment.
فَإِذَاthen when أَيْقَنْتُI am certain أَنَّthat الْمَوْتَdeath حَانَاhas come
فَإِذَا أَيْقَنْتُ أَنَّ الْمَوْتَ حَانَا
وَتَصَوَّرْتُand I imagine نُزُولِيmy descent فِيinto التُّرَابْthe dust
وَتَصَوَّرْتُ نُزُولِي فِي التُّرَابْ
Then, when I am certain that death is at hand,
And picture my descent into the dust,
نَشْقَةٌa sniff مِنْfrom خُصْلَةِthe lock الشَّعْرِof hair تَلِيهَاfollows it
نَشْقَةٌ مِنْ خُصْلَةِ الشَّعْرِ تَلِيهَا
قُبْلَةٌa kiss تُخْمِدُextinguishes ذَيَّاكَthat very السَّعِيرْblaze
قُبْلَةٌ تُخْمِدُ ذَيَّاكَ السَّعِيرْ
A sniff of the lock of hair is followed
By a kiss that quenches that inferno;
فَتَخُوضso wades النَّفْسُthe soul بَحْرَthe sea الأُنْسِof joy تِيهَاproudly
فَتَخُوض النَّفْسُ بَحْرَ الأُنْسِ تِيهَا
وَيَزُولand departs اليَأْسُdespair عَنْfrom قَلْبِيmy heart الكَسِيرْbroken
وَيَزُول اليَأْسُ عَنْ قَلْبِي الكَسِيرْ
So the soul wades proudly through the sea of joy,
And despair departs from my broken heart.
Sol 6.1