جَرِّر عَلى القَمَرَين ذَيلَ التيهِ
لَم يَأتِ حُسنُهُما بِما تَأتيهِ
Drag the tail of misguidance over the two moons
Their beauty does not come close to yours
ما احمَرّ وَجهُالشَمسِ إِلّا خَجلَةً
غِذ قُورِنت لِسَناكَ في التَشبيهِ
The face of the sun only blushed out of shyness
When compared to your teeth in simile
وَالبَدرُ لَمّا ما ثَلُوكَ بِتّمِّهِ
أَوما لِنَقصِ كَمالِهِ يُبديهِ
And the full moon, when it did not equal you in its fullness
Or was it revealing its imperfectness, lacking your perfection?
بَهَرَت مَحاسِنُكَ المَحاسِنَ كُلَّها
إِنّ السِراجَ سَنا الضُحى يُخفيهِ
Your beauty dazzled all other beauties
Indeed, the lamp outshines the brightness of dawn that hides it
هَل كانَ سِرُّ الحُبِّ إِلّا مُضمَراً
فَغَدَت صِفاتُك في الوَرى تُفشِيهِ
Was the secret of love anything but concealed
Until your attributes spread it out in the world?
مَن لِلخَواطِرِ أَن تُحاوِلَ وَصفَ مَن
إِن عَنَّ حُورُ العَينِ لا تَحكِيهِ
Who can describe one whom the houris of paradise cannot speak of
A branch bent by the youthful breeze, not the morning breeze
غُصنٌ تَثَنّى بِالصِبا لا بِالصَبا
يَجنِي عَلَيك هَوىً وَلا تَجنِيهِ
Picking passion for you but not able to pick it
He stood up blooming in the garden of beauties
قَد قامَ في رَوضِ المَحاسِنِ يانِعاً
فَنَعيمُ أَبصارِ البَصائِرِ فيهِ
The hand of creation embroidered its gardens
With what the gardener adorned the garden of cultivation
وَوَشَت يَدُ الإِبداعِ في وَجَناتِهِ
ما المُزنُ في رَوضِ الرُبى وَاشِيه
Its masterpieces surpassed all others
If you saw it, you wouldn’t accept anything else as its equal
راقضت بَدائِعُهُ فَإِن أَبصَرتَهُ
لَم تَرضَ في بَعضِ الرُبى بِشَبِيهِ
Its youth, perfect and refined
And the garden is proud of its sky that makes it dark
فَشَبابُهُ جَمُّ الغَضارة مُنعَمٌ
وَالرَوضُ غِبُّ سَمائِهِ يُمسِيهِ
For God a blossoming rose in lily
Modestly blushing to protect its shyness
لِلّهِ وَردٌ ناضِرٌ في سَوسَن
غَضٌّ حَيا اِستِحيائِهِ يَحمِيهِ
Its glance narrates the magic of Harut
And its beauty narrates that of Joseph
عَن سِحرِ هارُوتٍ يُحدِّثُ لَحظُهُ
وَجَمالُهُ عَن يُوسُفٍ يَروِيه
Beauty adorned it with every wonder
As if it only cared for whom you care for
خَلَعَ الجَمالُ عَلَيهِ كُلّ بِدِيعَةٍ
فَكَأَنّه يُعنى بِمَن تَعنِيهِ
If anything in this world could revive the dead
It would only be joining with you that would revive it
لَو كانَ يُحيي المَوتَ شَيءٌ في الدُنى
ما كانَ إِلّا وَصلُهُ يُحِييهِ
When beauty called me to rave about it
And removed the sleep of thought with awakening
لَمّا دَعاني الحسنُ أَن أَهفُو بِهِ
وَأَزال نَومَ الفِكرِ بالتَنبِيهِ
I created marvels where the doubts of slanderers fail
Since I do not name it or give it a kunya
أَبدَعتُ أِين يَخيب ظَنّ عَواذِلي
إِذ لا أُسمِّيهِ وَلا أَكنِيهِ
I obscured the knowledge of the beloved with artfulness
And man really succeeds through artfulness
صَحَّفتُ مَعرفةً الحَبيب مُمَوِّهاً
وَلَقَد يَفوزُ المرءُ بِالتَمويهِ
Its cheeks softer than the breeze, a hint
Rather like glass that shows you what is inside
خُدها أَرَقّ مِن النَسيم إِشارَة
بَل كَالزجَاجِ يُريكَ ما يَحوِيهِ
So go, my ransom, in sequence from the last
And if you hit the target, you will deafen it
فَاِقصُد فَدَيتُك ثامِناً مِن آخرٍ
فَإِذا رَميتَ صَميمَهُ تُصمِيهِ
From a poet whose secrets of their chest poured out
To you all, like flint when you strike it
مِن شاعِرٍ صَدَرَت خَبايا صَدرِهِ
لَكُمُ كَمِثل الزندِ إِذ تُورِيهِ
O you whom its love came to me a comfort
To passion whether it distances him or draws him near
يا ذا الَّذي جاني هَواهُ تَنَعُّمٌ
لِلصَبِّ إِذ يُقصِيهِ أَو يُدنِيهِ
Turn back your glance and examine the people of love
Not every eye roams around in tumult equally
أَعِدِ التِفاتَكَ وَاختبِر أَهلَ الهَوى
ما كُلّ طِرفٍ في الوَغى تُجرِيهِ
