وَإِنِّى لأَرضَى مِنكِ يا لَيلَ بِالذِى

وَإِنِّى لأَرضَى مِنكِ يا لَيلَ بِالذِى

لَوَ أبصَرَهُ الواشِى لَقَرَّت بَلابِلُه

لَوَ أبصَرَهُ الواشِى لَقَرَّت بَلابِلُه

And I am indeed content, O Layla, with what you give me—

And I am satisfied with you, O night, for what

which, if the tale-bearer saw it, would set his anxieties at rest:

If the slanderer had seen it, his nightingales would have cooed.

بِلا وبِأَن لا أَستَطِيعُ وبِالمُنَى

بِلا وبِأَن لا أَستَطِيعُ وبِالمُنَى

وَبِالوَعدِ والتَّسوِيفِ قد مَلَّ آمِلُه

وَبِالوَعدِ والتَّسوِيفِ قد مَلَّ آمِلُه

with “No,” and “I cannot,” and with wishes,

Without ability, without power, I cannot,

and with promises and postponement—the one awaiting them has grown weary—

And with the promise and procrastination, hope has wearied its expectant one.

وَبِالنَّظرَةِ العَجلَى وَبالحَولِ تَنقَضِى

وَبِالنَّظرَةِ العَجلَى وَبالحَولِ تَنقَضِى

أَواخِرُهُ لا نَلتَقِى وَأَوائلُه

أَواخِرُهُ لا نَلتَقِى وَأَوائلُه

and with a fleeting glance, and with a year passing away—

With the hasty glance and the turning away

its last days and its first—without our meeting.

Its ending we do not meet, and its beginning.