وحسنتَ في عَيني فلا حسَنُ

وحسنتَ في عَيني فلا حسَنُ

إلا كأنكَ ذلك الحَسنُ

إلا كأنكَ ذلك الحَسنُ

And you grew fair in my eyes; no lovely thing exists

You were beautiful in my eyes, so there was no beauty

But that you seem to be that very thing.

Except as though you were that beauty

لما انطَوى قَلبي على شجنٍ

لما انطَوى قَلبي على شجنٍ

يَوماً فكانَ سواءك الشجَنُ

يَوماً فكانَ سواءك الشجَنُ

When my heart enfolded sorrow

When my heart was folded around melancholy

One day, sorrow was your equal.

One day, so your company was the melancholy

رُعت العيونَ فكنتَ غايتَها

رُعت العيونَ فكنتَ غايتَها

وزَهت بكَ اللذاتُ والفِتَن

وزَهت بكَ اللذاتُ والفِتَن

You awed the eyes and became their ultimate aim,

Eyes wandered, so you were their destination

And pleasures and temptations grew radiant through you.

And through you, delights and temptations flourished

وتَحيرت قبل الظنونِ بها

وتَحيرت قبل الظنونِ بها

لحظاتكَ الأوهامُ والفِطَنُ

لحظاتكَ الأوهامُ والفِطَنُ

And, before conjectures about them, bewildered

And before conjectures about it

At your glances were imaginings and keen wits.

Your glances confused imaginations and discernment