صَرَّحَ بِما عِندي وَلَو مَلَأَ الفَضا

صَرَّحَ بِما عِندي وَلَو مَلَأَ الفَضا

ما لي وَلِلتَعريضِ فيمَن أَعرَضا

ما لي وَلِلتَعريضِ فيمَن أَعرَضا

Speak plainly of what I feel, even if it fills the expanse.

He revealed what was in my heart though it filled the sky,

What have I to do with veiled hints about one who turned away?

I have nothing to do with hints from one who turned away.

لي شادِنٌ صادَ الأُسودَ بِمُقلَةٍ

لي شادِنٌ صادَ الأُسودَ بِمُقلَةٍ

أَلقى الكَمِيُّ لَها الذَوابِلَ مُعرِضا

أَلقى الكَمِيُّ لَها الذَوابِلَ مُعرِضا

I have a young gazelle who hunted lions with his eye;

I have a roaring lion that struck down the black lions with a blow,

the armored warrior cast down his slender spears before it, turning away.

The expert archer shot his arrows at it as it turned away.

غُصنٌ مَنابِتُهُ القُلوبُ وَكَوكَبٌ

غُصنٌ مَنابِتُهُ القُلوبُ وَكَوكَبٌ

ما نوءُهُ إِلّا المَدامِعُ فُيَّضا

ما نوءُهُ إِلّا المَدامِعُ فُيَّضا

A bough that grows in hearts, and a star

A branch whose roots are hearts and a star whose tears alone

whose rain is nothing but eyes overflowing with tears.

Are its setting, pouring out.

ما طالَ لَيلي بَعدَهُ بَل ناظِري

ما طالَ لَيلي بَعدَهُ بَل ناظِري

يَأتي الصَباحُ فَلا يَراهُ أَبيَضا

يَأتي الصَباحُ فَلا يَراهُ أَبيَضا

My night has not lengthened in his absence; rather, my eye—

My night after him is not long, rather my watcher's eye

morning comes, yet it does not see it white.

Comes at dawn but does not see it white.

أَبكي وَيَضحَكُ راضِياً بِصَبابَتي

أَبكي وَيَضحَكُ راضِياً بِصَبابَتي

فَالصَبُّ يَجني السُخطَ مِن ذاكَ الرِضا

فَالصَبُّ يَجني السُخطَ مِن ذاكَ الرِضا

I weep while he laughs, content with my ardent longing;

I cry while he laughs, pleased at my youth,

so the lovesick lover reaps discontent from that contentment.

For youth reaps anger from such pleasure.

لا تَلقَ أَنفاسي بِثَغرِكَ إِنَّهُ

لا تَلقَ أَنفاسي بِثَغرِكَ إِنَّهُ

بَرَدٌ أَخافُ عَلَيهِ مِن جَمرِ الغَضا

بَرَدٌ أَخافُ عَلَيهِ مِن جَمرِ الغَضا

Do not meet my breaths with your mouth, for it

Let not my breath meet your lips, it is

is hail; I fear ghada-wood embers may harm it.

A chill, which I fear on embers of anger.

طارَ الكَرى لَكِنَّ وَجدي قُصَّ في

طارَ الكَرى لَكِنَّ وَجدي قُصَّ في

وَكرِ الضُلوعِ فَلَم يُطِق أَن يَنهَضا

وَكرِ الضُلوعِ فَلَم يُطِق أَن يَنهَضا

Sleep took flight, but my passion had its wings clipped in

Fate has flown but my love was cut into

the nest of my ribs, and could not rise.

The ribs' enclosure, too weak to stand.

أَصبو إِلى قِصَصِ الكَليمِ وَقَومِهِ

أَصبو إِلى قِصَصِ الكَليمِ وَقَومِهِ

قَصداً لِذِكرِكَ عِندَها وَتَعَرُّضا

قَصداً لِذِكرِكَ عِندَها وَتَعَرُّضا

I long for tales of God's interlocutor and his people,

I incline toward Moses' stories and his people

intending to recall you then, and seeking an opening.

Seeking your mention among them, and hints.

أَشكو إِلى الحَدَقِ المِراضِ وَضَلَّةٌ

أَشكو إِلى الحَدَقِ المِراضِ وَضَلَّةٌ

أَن يَشتَكي هَدَفٌ إِلى سَهمٍ مَضى

أَن يَشتَكي هَدَفٌ إِلى سَهمٍ مَضى

I complain to languid eyes—and it is folly

I complain to the tearful, dark eyes, though it is folly's straying

for a target to complain to an arrow that has sped away.

For a goal to complain to an arrow flown.

بَلوى عَلى القَلبِ المُعَذَّبِ جَرَّها

بَلوى عَلى القَلبِ المُعَذَّبِ جَرَّها

لَحظي الظَلومُ وَلَحظُ موسى وَالقَضا

لَحظي الظَلومُ وَلَحظُ موسى وَالقَضا

An affliction upon the tormented heart, brought on by

My glance drew this torment on my tortured heart,

my unjust glance, Musa's glance, and fate.

Like Moses' glance, and the decree of fate.