حبيبٌ لنا بين الرموز يناقشُ
كأن على وجْناته الحسنَ ناقشُ
A beloved of ours debates amidst symbols
As though beauty were debating his cheeks
تراءى لنا بدراً وقد كان كامناً
يواري سناه التمَّ في الليل غاطشُ
He appeared to us as a full moon though he was hidden
His brilliance obscured by the dark of night
فأشرق شمساً يحجب النورَ نورُه
عيونُ الدراري عن سناه دواهش
He shone like a sun whose light outshone the light
The eyes of the virgins were dazzled by his brilliance
له الرمز ثوبٌ دبَّجته نُبُوَّةٌ
أتتنا صُراحاً لم يدنِّسه راقش
The symbol is his garb embroidered with prophecy
It came to us openly, unsullied by vain talk
فشيخٌ كطفلٍ مُبدَعٍ وهو مُبدِعٌ
وكم تاه في حَفر الذخيرة نابش
A wise elder yet creative youth
How many strayed in the pits yet he sought treasure
أتى يُنعشُ الثقلين باهي جَمالِه
ولكنه فينا نَعيشٌ وناعش
He came to revive the two domains with his beauty
Yet through us he lived and fluttered
هُنالك عاش الناس في موت حبهم
ولو لم يمت ما كان في الناس عائش
There people lived amidst their love's death
Had he not died, love would not have endured
فأحيا حشاشاتٍ لنا بحشيشةٍ
ذكيةِ أصلٍ لن تراها الحشائش
So he revived for us bashful gazelles
With clever, original wit unseen in others
عليها الندى مستَقطراً من أَقاحها
ومن تحته خدٌّ له الورد خامش
The dew was distilled from their meadows
Under it, a cheek the roses timidly desired
فإن كنت مشتاقاً إليه فنادِه
إذا ما دهاك البين والدهرُ باطش
If you long for him, call out to him
When separation and time oppress you
فلم يبق في العشاق قلبٌ متيمٌ
بذاك الهوى إلّا وأصماه رائش
No lover remains enamored of that love
Except the longing left him raving
هو الحب لا تُذهلك هندٌ وآلُها
فما دونه من آل هندٍ فواحش
It is love, do not be fooled by an Indian idol
For compared to him, Indian idols are corrupt
فكل جمالٍ دون بدريْ مشوَّهٌ
عيونُهم عندي نَمَتها خفافش
All beauty besides his crescent is distorted
In my eyes, their sleep is but a doze
فهل يبصروا جماله بكماله
مليّاً وهم قومٌ عوامٌ أخافش
Can they fully perceive his beauty?
Bewildered, for they are commoners, fools
وقد سرني ذاك النجيع مضرَّجاً
وأعجبني دمعٌ له وهو جاهش
Yet I was delighted by the wounded gazelle
And his weeping captivated me
فيا شوقُ لا تُثقِل عليه لأنه
رقيقٌ وهذا الشوق بالطبع حارش
So longing, do not burden him
For he is delicate, and longing is harsh
كفى أمَّهُ الحسناء حسناً وأنها
هي البكر لا ما تدعيه الرواقش
His fair mother's beauty suffices
She is the virgin, not what pretenders claim
هي المرضع العذراء والوصف مُغربٌ
ولو بَرقشَ المرموزَ عنها بَراقش
She is the chaste wet nurse, strange is the story
Even if the cryptic text denied her traits
هو الرَّعْشَنُ المجهول أصلاً وحِرفَةً
فهل يصدقنَّ القولُ والقول راعش
He is the unknown, strange in origin and craft
Can such inconsistent tales be believed?
فطوبى لأمٍّ وابنُها كان ميتاً
وما عاش حتى مات والموت ناعش
Happy is the mother whose son was dead
And did not live until he died amidst ravaging death
ولم ينهش التنينُ جسماً مسمَّماً
بأنيابه حتى رأى الموتَ ناهش
The dragon did not savage the surrendered body
Until it saw death's grasp
فهذا هو المبعوث من بعد موته
وذو الرأي لم يفهمه والرأي طائش
This is the messenger after his death
The wise did not understand him, for wisdom wanders
