طاف السقاة بها ما كان أشهاها

طاف السقاة بها ما كان أشهاها

فيا ندامى أراح أم حمياها

فيا ندامى أراح أم حمياها

The cupbearers passed it round—how delectable it was!

The water-bearers passed by her, though she was unquenched,

So, drinking companions—is it wine, or her intoxicating ardor?

So O regrets! Did she find rest or fever?

فقد تضوّع في الكاسات ريّاها

فقد تضوّع في الكاسات ريّاها

سلوا كؤوس الطلا هل لامست فاها

سلوا كؤوس الطلا هل لامست فاها

For her fragrance has wafted through the goblets.

Her saliva mixed into the cups when she sipped,

Ask the wine cups: did they touch her mouth?

Ask the cups of wine, did they touch her mouth?

واستخبروا الراح هل مسّت ثناياها

واستخبروا الراح هل مسّت ثناياها

هيهات أنسى وما ليلى بناسيةٍ

هيهات أنسى وما ليلى بناسيةٍ

And ask the wine: did it touch her front teeth?

And ask the wind, did it caress her cheeks?

Never shall I forget, nor will Layla,

Alas! I cannot forget, Leila is unforgettable,

سويعة جمعتنا فوق رابية

سويعة جمعتنا فوق رابية

حتى إذا سمعت ترجيع شادية

حتى إذا سمعت ترجيع شادية

the brief hour that brought us together upon a hill.

A fleeting gathering above the hill,

Then, when she heard a singer's trilling,

Until I heard the echoes of joy,

باتت على الروض تسقيني بصافية

باتت على الروض تسقيني بصافية

لا للسلاف ولا للورد رياها

لا للسلاف ولا للورد رياها

she spent the night upon the meadow, giving me a clear draught,

She spent the night in the garden quenching me with her purity.

whose fragrance was neither that of choice wine nor of roses.

Not for pleasure or roses I quenched her,

وكاشفتني ولم تملك عواطفها

وكاشفتني ولم تملك عواطفها

بحبها فنفت نفسي مخاوفها

بحبها فنفت نفسي مخاوفها

And she confided in me, unable to restrain her feelings,

And she uncovered me and could not restrain her feelings,

about her love, and my soul banished its fears.

With her love she shook off my fears,

والكأس من غلة لم تغن راشفها

والكأس من غلة لم تغن راشفها

ما ضرّ لو جعلت كأسي مراشفها

ما ضرّ لو جعلت كأسي مراشفها

Yet the cup did not slake its sipper's burning thirst.

And the cup was from a yield that did not satisfy her craving.

What harm would it do if she made her lips my cup,

No harm if my cup were her pillow,

ولو سقَتني بصاف من حميّاها

ولو سقَتني بصاف من حميّاها

فيا للوعة قلبي من تبرّمها

فيا للوعة قلبي من تبرّمها

and gave me a pure draught of her intoxicating ardor?

And if she quenched me with the pureness of her fever!

Oh, the anguish of my heart at her impatience!

Oh the agony of my heart from her sullenness,

ويا لحرقة روحي من تجنّبها

ويا لحرقة روحي من تجنّبها

فهل لها مأرب من لي بمأربها

فهل لها مأرب من لي بمأربها

And oh, my soul's burning pain at her avoidance!

And the burning of my soul from her avoidance!

So, has she some purpose? Who can tell me her purpose?

Is there a way out for her that leads to me?

هيفاء كالبان يلتفّ النسيم بها

هيفاء كالبان يلتفّ النسيم بها

ويلفت الطير تحت الوشي عطفاها

ويلفت الطير تحت الوشي عطفاها

Slender-waisted as a bān tree, the breeze winds about her,

Haifa is like frankincense circled by the breeze,

and her flanks beneath the brocade draw the birds' gaze.

And the birds circle her waist beneath the canopy.

تغزو القلوب ولا خوف ولا ندم

تغزو القلوب ولا خوف ولا ندم

وكم هناك جرى دمع وسال دم

وكم هناك جرى دمع وسال دم

She invades hearts, with neither fear nor remorse.

She invades hearts without fear or regret,

And how often tears ran there, and blood flowed!

And how much tears have flowed and blood spilled!

حوراء عذراء ما زلّت بها قدم

حوراء عذراء ما زلّت بها قدم

حديثها السحر إلا أنّه نغم

حديثها السحر إلا أنّه نغم

A dark-eyed virgin, whose foot has never slipped,

A virgin houri, no foot has tripped over her,

her speech is magic, save that it is melody,

Her conversation is magic, though it is melody,

جرت على فم داود فغنّاها

جرت على فم داود فغنّاها

وذات طوق شكت والقلب طارحها

وذات طوق شكت والقلب طارحها

that flowed over David's lips, and he sang it.

It flowed from David's mouth, so he sang it,

And a collared dove lamented, and my heart answered her,

A necklaced one complained, and the heart cast her down,

وقطّعت كبدي اللَه سامحها

وقطّعت كبدي اللَه سامحها

يا ليل قل لي فصعب أن أفاتحها

يا ليل قل لي فصعب أن أفاتحها

and she tore my liver apart—may God forgive her.

She cut up my liver, God forgive her!

O night, tell me, for it is hard to speak openly with her:

O night, say to her - for it is hard for me to address her -

حمامة الأيك من بالشجو طارحها

حمامة الأيك من بالشجو طارحها

ومن وراء الدجى بالشوق ناجاها

ومن وراء الدجى بالشوق ناجاها

The dove of the grove—who exchanged laments with her?

Dove of the thorns, thrown by passion’s agony,

And who, from beyond the darkness, whispered to her with longing?

And behind the darkness, conversing with her longing,

بكت لها اللَه واستبكت وما كتمت

بكت لها اللَه واستبكت وما كتمت

ووقدةُ الوجد في أعماقها اضطرمت

ووقدةُ الوجد في أعماقها اضطرمت

She wept—God be with her!—and moved others to tears, concealing nothing,

She wept for her, and made God weep, and did not conceal,

and the flame of passion blazed within her depths.

And the flame of passion in her depths was kindled,

واستعرضت صور الماضي ومذ وجمت

واستعرضت صور الماضي ومذ وجمت

مدّت إلى الليل جيدا نافرا ورمت

مدّت إلى الليل جيدا نافرا ورمت

And she reviewed the images of the past; and when she fell silent,

And she reviewed the images of the past since she withered,

she stretched her upraised neck toward the night and turned

She stretched her cheek, shunning, to the night and tossed

إليه أذنا فحارت فيه عيناها

إليه أذنا فحارت فيه عيناها

يا ليل رفقا بها رفقا فما نكثت

يا ليل رفقا بها رفقا فما نكثت

an ear toward it; her eyes grew bewildered within it.

Her ear to it, so it blushed within it,

O night, be gentle with her, gentle, for she has not broken

O night, be gentle with her, be gentle, for she has not broken

عهدا لأحبابها كلا ولا حنثت

عهدا لأحبابها كلا ولا حنثت

فكم بجنحك عن أحلامها بحثت

فكم بجنحك عن أحلامها بحثت

a pledge to her loved ones—no, nor has she violated an oath.

A promise to her loved ones, no, nor betrayed,

For how often beneath your wing she searched for her dreams!

For how often have you, with your wings, searched out her dreams?

وعادها الشوق للأحباب فانبعثت

وعادها الشوق للأحباب فانبعثت

تبكي وتهتف أحيانا بشكواها

تبكي وتهتف أحيانا بشكواها

And longing for her loved ones revisited her, so she began

And longing returned her to her loved ones, so she awoke

to weep and, at times, cry out her lament.

Crying out and calling in her complaints:

يا ساقي الراح أحشائي قد التهبت

يا ساقي الراح أحشائي قد التهبت

يا ضارب العود أفكاري قد اضطربت

يا ضارب العود أفكاري قد اضطربت

O pourer of wine, my entrails have caught fire!

O cupbearer of comfort, my insides have caught fire,

O player of the oud, my thoughts have fallen into turmoil!

O strummer of the lute, my thoughts are distraught,

إني لفي مأتم والساعة اقتربت

إني لفي مأتم والساعة اقتربت

يا زهرة الأيك أيّام الهوى ذهبت

يا زهرة الأيك أيّام الهوى ذهبت

I am indeed at a mourning gathering, and the hour has drawn near.

I am indeed in mourning and the hour has drawn near,

O flower of the grove, the days of love have passed,

O jasmine flower, the days of passion have departed

كالحلم واها لأيّام الهوى واها

كالحلم واها لأيّام الهوى واها

like a dream—alas for the days of love, alas!

Like a dream, alas for the days of passion, alas!