سَلَّتْ جُفُونُكَ لي سُيوفَ حِدَادِ

فَقَتَلْنَنِي وَلَبَسْنَ ثَوْبَ حِدَادِ

Your eyelids unsheathed swords of steel against me,

Killing me, donning the garb of mourning.

وَطَفِقْنَ يُبْدِينَ الذُّبُولَ تَصَوُّنَا

أَنَسَيْنَ أَنَّ دَمِي بِخَدِّكَ بَادِي

They began to show grief, acting coy,

Forgetting that my blood stains your cheek.

يَا بَدْرَ تَمٍّ سَلْوَتي كَمَحَاقِهِ

وكَمَا لُهُ وَنُمُوُّهُ كَوِدَادِي

O perfect full moon, my night is like its dark phase,

While my love and longing for you grow constantly.

لَوْ أَنَّ فَرْطَ نُعَاسِ جَفْنِكَ مَانِحي

مَا عَنْهُ يَفْضُلُ مَا شَكَيْتُ سُهَادِي

If not for the drowsiness weighting on your lids,

My wakefulness would not exceed my grievance.

بَرِّدْ بِظَلْمِكَ حَرُّ ظُلْمِكَ جَارِياً

فِيهِ عَلى مَا لَيْسَ بِالمُعْتَادِ

Temper your tyranny's heat with its coolness,

In ways not customary or mundane.

أَوَ فَارْتَجِعْ قَلْبِي الذَّيِ أَعْدَيْتَني

فِيهِ كَمِثْلِ قَوَامِكَ المَيَّادِ

Or give me back the heart you aggrieved

As vigorous as your upright shape.

وَعَجِبْتُ مِنْ وِرْدِ العِطَاشِ بِمْنَهَلٍ

وَعُيُونُهُ مِنْ أَعْيُنِ الوُرَّادِ

I'm shocked to see thirsty men at a spring

While its fountains spout like cascade.

أَرْسَلْتُ طَرْفِي نَحْوَ خَدِّكَ رَائِداً

فَعَلِمْتُ كَيْفَ خِيَانَةَ الرُّوَادِ

I sent my eyes to your cheek as a scout

And learned the treachery spies know well.

قَالُوا القَضِيبُ عَلى الكَثِيبِ نَظِيرُهُ

أَرَأَيْتَ كَيْفَ تَقَوُّلُ الحُسَّادِ

They said the rod fits the quim,

Have you not seen what enviers say?

مَنْ لِي لَو أنَّكَ كَالقَضِيبِ تَنَالُهُ

كَفِّي وَيُصْبحُ زَهْرُهُ بِوِسَادِي

Who can lend me his rod, that with it

I'll fill my palm and its flower be my pillow?

قَالَ العَذُولُ أَرَى حَلاَوَةَ وَعْدِهِ

لِخِدَاعِهِ ضَرْباً مِنَ الإِيعَادِ

The celibate one said: I see the sweetness of his promise

Is a kind of made-up appointment.

كَالعُودِ يَضْرِبُ في فُؤَادٍ فَارغٍ

فَتَأَسَّ لَو أَحْتَالُ بِالإِنْشَادِ

Like a lute striking a vacant heart,

I wished I could pretend to sing his praise.

لاَ تَعْذِلَنِّي مَا فُؤَادُكَ فِي يَدي

صَبْراً وَلَمْ يَكُ في يَدَيْكَ فُؤَادِي

Do not blame me, for my heart is in your hand.

Have patience, though mine is not in yours.

وَتَنحْ عَنْ زَفَراتِ أَنْفَاسِي التِّي

لَوْلاَ الدُّمُوعُ لأَحْرَقَتْ عُوَّادِي

And turn away from the sighs of my breath

Which, were it not for tears, would have ignited my brazier.