أَهاجرَتيO you who forsake me أَطفِئquench
أَهاجرَتي أَطفِئ
لَواعِجَburning pangs لاnot تَنتَهيcome to an end
لَواعِجَ لا تَنتَهي
O you who forsake me, quench
My darling, my passion's fire
The burning pangs that never end.
Endless yearnings never tire
مَضَتpassed فيin هواكِlove for you السِنونthe years
مَضَت في هواكِ السِنون
وَماand not نِلتُI attained ماwhat أَشتَهيI desire
وَما نِلتُ ما أَشتَهي
The years have passed in loving you,
Years in loving you have passed
And I have not attained what I desire.
Yet my longing's unsurpassed
إِذاif قيلَit is said ماتَdied الأَديبthe man of letters
إِذا قيلَ ماتَ الأَديب
بِفاتِنَةٍbecause of a captivating woman أنتِyou هيshe
بِفاتِنَةٍ أنتِ هي
If it is said that the man of letters died
If they say the poet died
Because of a captivating woman—you are she.
For a beauty, it is you they prized
Sol 6.1