ماnot أَطْرَبَتْsang sweetly فَوْقَabove الغُصُونِthe branches حَمامةٌa dove
ما أَطْرَبَتْ فَوْقَ الغُصُونِ حَمامةٌ
إِلاexcept that رَأَيْتَyou saw دُمُوعَthe tears عَيْنيmy eye تُسْكَبُare shed
إِلا رَأَيْتَ دُمُوعَ عَيْني تُسْكَبُ
Whenever a dove sings sweetly above the branches,
How pleasantly a dove coos above the branches—
You see the tears of my eye being shed.
Unless my tears you see poured down in torrents.
وإِذاand when الرِّياحُthe winds تَناوَحَتْwailed to one another أَلْفَيْتَنِيyou found me
وإِذا الرِّياحُ تَناوَحَتْ أَلْفَيْتَنِي
بَيْنَbetween الصَّبَابَةِardent yearning والأَسَىand sorrow أَتَقَلَّبُI toss and turn
بَيْنَ الصَّبَابَةِ والأَسَى أَتَقَلَّبُ
And when the winds wail to one another, you find me
When winds contend in rivalry for mastery,
Tossing between yearning and sorrow.
I'm tossed between despair and youthful folly.
ياO عاذِلىmy reproacher فيin الحُبِّlove مَهْلاًgently بالأَذىwith the hurt
يا عاذِلى في الحُبِّ مَهْلاً بالأَذى
لَوْif كُنْتَyou were تَعْشَقُyou love passionately ماnot ظَلَلْتَyou kept on تُؤَنِّبُyou reproach
لَوْ كُنْتَ تَعْشَقُ ما ظَلَلْتَ تُؤَنِّبُ
O you who reproach me for love, do not hurt me so;
Reproacher mine, go gently with your blame!
If you were in love, you would not keep reproaching me.
If you knew love, reproach you would not claim.
كمhow often حاوَلَتْtried نَفْسيmy soul السُّلُوَّforgetfulness فطالَبَتْand so it sought
كم حاوَلَتْ نَفْسي السُّلُوَّ فطالَبَتْ
أَسْبَابَهُits means جُهْداًstrenuously فعَزَّyet proved elusive المَطْلَبُthe goal
أَسْبَابَهُ جُهْداً فعَزَّ المَطْلَبُ
How often my soul has tried to forget, and sought
My soul has tried forgetting—all in vain.
The means to do so with great effort, yet the goal proved elusive.
To find it difficult is all I've gained.
Sol 6.1