أَلا حَبَّ بِالبَيتِ الّذِى أَنتَ هاجِرُهُ

أَلا حَبَّ بِالبَيتِ الّذِى أَنتَ هاجِرُهُ

وَأَنتَ بِتَلماحٍ مِن الطَّرفِ زائِرُه

وَأَنتَ بِتَلماحٍ مِن الطَّرفِ زائِرُه

Ah, how dear is the house that you forsake,

Oh how I love the house where you dwell

Yet you visit it with a fleeting glance of the eye.

Though from afar I visit and foretell

فَإِنَّكَ مِن بَيتٍ لَعَينِىَ مُعجِبٌ

فَإِنَّكَ مِن بَيتٍ لَعَينِىَ مُعجِبٌ

وَاَحسَنُ فِى عَينِى مِنَ البَيتِ عامِرُهُ

وَاَحسَنُ فِى عَينِى مِنَ البَيتِ عامِرُهُ

For you, as a house, delight my eye,

For you live in a house that dazzles my eye

And lovelier to my eye than the house is its dweller.

And is far better than a home left empty

أَصُدُّ حَيَاءً أَن يَلِجَّ بِىَ الهَوَى

أَصُدُّ حَيَاءً أَن يَلِجَّ بِىَ الهَوَى

وَفِيكَ المُنَى لَولاَ عَدُوٌّ حاذِرُه

وَفِيكَ المُنَى لَولاَ عَدُوٌّ حاذِرُه

I turn away in modesty, lest passion grow insistent within me,

I shun my longing for you out of shyness

And in you are my wishes, were it not for a foe I fear.

Though with you is my bliss if not for prying eyes

وَكَم لائمٍ لَولال نَفاسَةُ حُبِّها

وَكَم لائمٍ لَولال نَفاسَةُ حُبِّها

عَلَيكَ لَمَا بالَيتَ أَنّكَ خَابِرُه

عَلَيكَ لَمَا بالَيتَ أَنّكَ خَابِرُه

And many a reproacher—were it not for his envy of her love

How many would blame me if her nobility

For you—you would not mind knowing him.

Did not prevent you from learning you have a lover

أُحِبُّكِ يا لَيلَى عَلى غَيرِ رِيبَةٍ

أُحِبُّكِ يا لَيلَى عَلى غَيرِ رِيبَةٍ

وَما خَيرُ حُبٍّ لا تَعَفُّ سَرائِرُه

وَما خَيرُ حُبٍّ لا تَعَفُّ سَرائِرُه

I love you, Layla, with no dishonorable intent;

I love you Leila beyond any doubt

And what good is love whose secrets are not chaste?

What good is love if it does not hide its secrets?

وَقَد مَاتَ قَبلِى أَوَّلُ الحُبِّ فَانقَضَى

وَقَد مَاتَ قَبلِى أَوَّلُ الحُبِّ فَانقَضَى

فَإِن مِتُّ أَضحَى الحُبُّ قَد ماتَ آخِرُه

فَإِن مِتُّ أَضحَى الحُبُّ قَد ماتَ آخِرُه

And love's first died before me and passed away;

My first love died before me and faded away

And if I die, love's last will then have died.

If I die, the last of my love dies in its tracks

فَلَمّا تَنَاهَى الحُبُّ فِى القَلبِ وارداً

فَلَمّا تَنَاهَى الحُبُّ فِى القَلبِ وارداً

أَقامَ وَأَعيَت بَعد ذاكَ مَصَادِرُه

أَقامَ وَأَعيَت بَعد ذاكَ مَصَادِرُه

Then, when love entered the heart and reached its fullness,

When love flowed into my heart to stay

It settled there, and afterward its ways out proved elusive.

It remained though its sources ebbed away

وَقَد كانَ قَلبِى فِى حِجابٍ يُكنُّهُ

وَقَد كانَ قَلبِى فِى حِجابٍ يُكنُّهُ

وَحُبُّكِ مِن دُونِ الحِجابِ يُسَاتِرُه

وَحُبُّكِ مِن دُونِ الحِجابِ يُسَاتِرُه

And my heart had been within a veil that sheltered it,

My heart was veiled but your love still peered

And love for you, beneath the veil, concealed it.

From beyond the veil to find what it endeared

فَماذَا الّذِى يَشفَى مِن الحُبِّ بَعدَما

فَماذَا الّذِى يَشفَى مِن الحُبِّ بَعدَما

تَشَرَّبَهُ بَطنُ الفُؤَادِ وَظاهِرُه

تَشَرَّبَهُ بَطنُ الفُؤَادِ وَظاهِرُه

What, then, can cure one of love, once

What can heal my love now that it has seeped

The heart's depths and its surface have drunk it in?

Into my heart's core and over it streamed?