بِذِمَامِ عَهْدِكَ في الهَوى أَتَذَمَّمُ
يا مَنْ بِحُرْمَةِ وِدِّهِ أَتَحَرَّمُ
With the cord of your covenant in passion I grow anxious,
O you, sacred to me for love's sake.
أَسْلَمْتَنِي لِلْوَجْدِ في دَارِ الأَسى
لَمَّا سَلِمْتَ وَخِلْتَ أَنِي أَسْلَمُ
You surrendered me to torment in the abode of woe
When you bade me farewell and I resigned myself.
كَمْ قَدْ شَرِقْتُ بِماءِ ذِكْرِكَ مَرَّةً
فَنَسِيتُ مِنْ ذِكْرِ الهَوى مَا أَفْهَمُ
How often have I been refreshed by the water of your memory,
Then forgot what I knew of passion's pain!
يا دارُ مَا لِخَطِيبِ رَبْعِكِ ساكِتاً
فَكأَنَّهُ عَمَّا بِنا يَتَكلَّمُ
O dwelling, why is your spokesman silent?
It is as if, concerning us, he does not speak.
هَا نَحْنُ أَبْناءُ الغَرامِ وَهذِهِ
أَجْسامُنا بِرُسُومِها نَتَرَسَّمُ
Are our bodies, marked with its tracings.
As though clothed in a cloak of decrepitude,
وَكأنَّما اشْتَمَلَتْ رِدَاءً مِنْ بِلىً
وَكأَنَّهُ مِنْ دَمْعِ عَيْني مُعْلَمُ
And as if, with the tears from my eyes, dyed.
As though the down on your cheek, O home of passion,
وَكَأَنَّ وَشْيَ رُباكِ يا دَارَ الهَوى
مِنْ عَبْرَتي مُسْتَعْبِرٌ مُسْتَعْلِمُ
Were my flowing tears, questioning and knowing.
By God, none but the healed know my love for him
تَاللَهِ لا عَلِمَ السًّلُوُّ بِحُبِّ مَنْ
أَنا في هَواهُ مُعَذَّلٌ وَمُلَوَّمُ
For whose sake I am abased and blamed.
By my life, passion remains not in my flesh
وَحَيَاةِ مَا أَبْقى الهَوى مِنْ مُهْجَتي
لاَ قُلْتُ إِنِّي فِي هَواهُ مُسَلَّمُ
Unless I say I am resigned to its dominion.
If he shut his eyes to me, destiny would not
لَوْ بَيْنَ أَجْفَاني تَجَافاهُ الكَرى
مَا كَانَ يَحْلُمُ أَنَّهُ بِيَ يَحْلُمُ
Dream he was dreaming of me.
O you who have left, passion has played with your promises.
يا نازِحاً لَعِبَ القِلى بِعُهُودِهِ
مَا الصَّبْرُ عَنْكَ أَقَلُّ مِمَّا تَعْلَمُ
Patience where you are concerned I know too little of.
For me and passion, what lies between the wings of destiny -
لِي وَالهَوى مَا بَيْنَ أَجْنِحَةِ الكَرى
لَيْلانِ نَوْمُهُما عَلَيَّ مُحَرَّمُ
Their night's sleep is forbidden me.
No night has been prolonged for me but for the passionate,
مَا الليْلُ طَالَ عَلَيَّ دُونَ ذَوي الهَوى
لكِن بَعُدْتَ فَكُلُّ دَهْرِي مُظْلِمُ
For you are gone, so all my days are dark.
Alas for my days whose shadows have ruled over us,
وَاهاً لأَيَّامِي الَّتي في ظِلِّها
ظَلَّتْ صُرُوفُ الدَّهْرِ فينَا تَحكُمُ
The turns of fate revolving and decreeing!
Days passion awakened us for stations
أَيَّامَ أيقَظَنا الهَوى لمَواقِفٍ
فيها عُيونُ الدَّهرِ عَنَّا نُوَّمُ
At which the days' eyes slept, looking on us.
They passed, nor did we pass from their condition,
حالَت وَمَا حُلْنا لَها عَنْ حَالِها
فَكأَنَّها بِشَقَائِنا تَتَنَعَّمُ
As though, by our misery, luxuriating.
Then they bent back in a slant of tenderness toward us,
ثُمَّ انْثَنَتْ تَثْنِي إِلَيْنا عِطْفَها
فَكَأَنَّهُ مِنْ ظُلْمِها يَتَظَلَّمُ
As if, for their darkness, apologizing.
So I taxed their heedlessness with mention of parting,
فَرَمَيْتُ غَفْلَتَها بِذِكْرِ تَفَرُّقٍ
فَابْيَضَّ مِنْ خَوْفِ الفِراقِ لَهُ الدَّمُ
Whereupon, fearing separation, the blood turned white.
And she, having drunk the wine of her heavy eyelids,
قَالتْ وَقَدْ شَرِبت مُدامَ جُفُونِها
وَلِسانُها مِنْها فَصِيحٌ أَعْجَمُ
Her tongue thick with it, incomprehensibly cried:
"O you who call my soul to return from the distance between us -
يَا ناعِياً رُوحي إِلَيَّ بِبَيْنِهِ
بانَتْ وَلَمْ تَعْلَمْ بِأَنِّيَ أَعْلَمُ
It has appeared, but you knew not that I knew!
Preoccupation with passion has blinded your heart to him
أَشَغَلْتَ قَلْبَكَ بِالغَرامِ عَنِ الَّذي
في كلِّ عُضْوٍ مِنْهُ قَلْبٌ مُغْرَمُ
In every limb of whom is a passionate heart.
We struggle to complain though our tongues are silenced by it
جَهْدُ الشِّكايَةِ أَنَّ أَلْسُنَنا بِها
خَرِسَتْ وَأَنَّ جُفُونَنا تَتَكَلَّمُ
And our eyelids, instead, speak.
Had I owned the secret, that day of love's beginning,
لَوْ كُنْتُ أَمْلِكُ سِرَّ مَنْ كَتَمَ الهَوى
يَوْمَ النَّوى لَكَتَمْتُ مَا لا يُكْتَمُ
I would have kept what cannot be kept concealed."
