شوقًاout of longing إليكِfor you أخطُّI inscribe لهفةَyearning خافقيmy beating heart
شوقًا إليكِ أخطُّ لهفةَ خافقي
شعرًاas verse؛لعلكِperhaps you تقرئينَyou read حقائقيmy truths
شعرًا؛لعلكِ تقرئينَ حقائقي
Longing for you, I inscribe my beating heart's yearning
Longing for you, I pen the throbbing of my heart
as verse; perhaps you will read my truths—
In verse, hoping you might read my inner truths-
تلكthose التيwhich خبَّأتُهاI concealed them خوفًاout of fear علىfor
تلك التي خبَّأتُها خوفًا على
حُسنٍbeauty يلفُّكِenfolds you منfrom لهيبِblaze حرائقيmy fires
حُسنٍ يلفُّكِ من لهيبِ حرائقي
those I concealed, fearing for
Those I hid for fear that your beauty would be singed
the beauty that enfolds you, lest the blaze of my fires harm it.
By the blaze of my passions.
شطَّgrew distant المزارُthe meeting-place،فأينَso where أنتِyou،وأينهاand where are they
شطَّ المزارُ،فأينَ أنتِ،وأينها
وَرداتroses رُوحِكِyour soul منfrom ربيعِspringtime حدائقيmy gardens
وَردات رُوحِكِ من ربيعِ حدائقي
The meeting-place has grown distant; so where are you, and where are they—
The trail is barren; where are you, where are
the roses of your soul from the springtime of my gardens?
The roses of your spirit in the springtime of my gardens?
أَوماand have you not شبعتِyou have had your fill منof البعادthe separation غريبةٌstrange
أَوما شبعتِ من البعاد غريبةٌ
أَنْthat تجفُوَshun الأرواحُthe souls فيضoutpouring رقائقيmy tender words
أَنْ تجفُوَ الأرواحُ فيض رقائقي
And have you not had your fill of separation? How strange
Or are you not yet sated with remoteness, strange one,
that souls should shun the outpouring of my tender words.
That souls should dry up the outpouring of my tenderness?
Sol 6.1