عجُوزٌ لَعمْرُ الصّبا فانِيهْ

عجُوزٌ لَعمْرُ الصّبا فانِيهْ

لها في الحشَا صُورةُ الغانِيهْ

لها في الحشَا صُورةُ الغانِيهْ

An old woman—by youth's life!—wasting away;

An old woman whose youth has long passed

Within her breast she bears the image of a beauty.

Yet in private, retains the face of a singer

زَنَتْ بالرِّجالِ على سِنِّها

زَنَتْ بالرِّجالِ على سِنِّها

فَيا حبَّذَا هِي مِن زانِيهْ

فَيا حبَّذَا هِي مِن زانِيهْ

She has fornicated with men despite her age;

She flirts with men despite her age

And oh, what a delightful fornicator she is!

If only she were less of a sinner

تُريك العُقُول على ضَعْفِهَا

تُريك العُقُول على ضَعْفِهَا

تُدارُ كما دارتِ السّانِيهْ

تُدارُ كما دارتِ السّانِيهْ

She shows you intellects, despite her frailty,

She fools minds with her frailty

Spun round as the waterwheel turns.

Spinning like a top gone asunder

فقد عنِيتْ بهَواها الحُلُو

فقد عنِيتْ بهَواها الحُلُو

مُ فهْي براحتِهَا عانِيهْ

مُ فهْي براحتِهَا عانِيهْ

For minds have been engrossed in love for her,

Lost in selfish passions so sweet

And she is concerned with her own comfort.

At peace though she causes wonder

تَقَاصَرُ عن طُولِهَا قُونْكَةٌ

تَقَاصَرُ عن طُولِهَا قُونْكَةٌ

وتَبْعُدُ عن غُنْجِهَا دانِيهْ

وتَبْعُدُ عن غُنْجِهَا دانِيهْ

Cuenca falls short of her height,

Shorter than her height, a wand

And Dénia is far from her coquettish charm.

Farther than her voice, one who laments

تَردَّيْتُ مِن حُزْنِ عيْشِي بها

تَردَّيْتُ مِن حُزْنِ عيْشِي بها

غَراماً فَيا طُول أَحْزَانِيهْ

غَراماً فَيا طُول أَحْزَانِيهْ

I have fallen to ruin from grief over my life in her,

I’m consumed by sorrow when with her

Out of love—and oh, how long my sorrows!

Yearning, oh how long my laments