أرى الوجدَ أقوى ما يكونُ وأغلبا
إذا لم أجد عن مذهب الحبِّ مَذْهبا
I see passion strongest when I find no doctrine for love's creed,
So who can save me from the fire of your rejection and passion's blaze,
فَمَنْ مُنقذي من نار صَدّكَ والهوى
يُضَرِّمُها بينَ الضُّلوع تَلَهُّبا
That sets aflame my heart and ribs with burning throes?
My heart refused to forget your love, for it would betray
أبى القلبُ أن يسلو هواكَ وأنّه
لأغدرُ قَلبٍ في سلوككَ إنْ أبى
A heart that strayed from loving you, if it should disobey.
Have you not seen how it finds sweet the pangs whenever
ألم تَرهُ يَسْتَعذبُ الوجدَ كُلّما
تَحَمّلَ وجداً في الغرامِ وعذّبا
It bears the throes of love and torture’s agony?
By my soul, the full moon rose in the night of desolation,
بِروحيَ بدراً لاحَ في ليلِ طُرَّة
وَمَطْلَعُه للمُجتَلي فَلَكُ القبا
Its rising is for the sleepless - bless its orbit!
Never before have I seen a moon so perfect as his face.
وَلم أرَ بدراً كاملاً قبلَ وجهه
لهُ شَرَفٌ إذ حلَّ بالصّدغِ عَقْرَبا
He has nobility when the mole adorns his temple.
A gazelle called the hearts to love him, so he spent the night
غزالٌ دعى حبَّ القلوبِ بحبِّه
فباتَ إلى كُلِّ القلوب مُحَبّبا
Beloved of all hearts, holding fast the forelock.
His eyelashes humble the wild cows, and sometimes
مُمَسِّكُ خّدَ بالعذار وَرُبّما
غدا بدماء العاشقينَ مُخَضّبا
They redden with the blood of lovers at dawn.
He has a glance - where are the wild cows to its languor?
لهُ مُقلةٌ أينَ الظِّبا من فتورها
بقلبكَ لا بَلْ أينَ من قبلها الظِّبا
Nay, where are they compared to it beforehand?
He reproaches me while the fault in love is his fault,
يُعاتبنُي والذَّنبُ في الحبّ ذنبه
وَيَسألُ عن سُقمي وَمنه تَسَبَبا
And asks about my sickness - its cause from him derived.
And claims I'm guilty, so I obey him
وَيَزعَم أنّي مُذْنبٌ فأطيعُهُ
موافقة منِّي ولم أكُ مُذنباً
Consenting, though I am not guilty in this matter.
And I love the blame of the slanderers for his mention,
وَيُعجبنُي ذِكرُ العذول لذِكره
وإنْ لَمْ أجد إلاّ عذولاً مؤنِّبا
Though I find no slanderers except those who reprove me.
I wonder at the affair of love - a wonderous thing, wherein I see
عَجبتُ لأمر الحب أمراً ولا أرى
به عَجَباً إلاّ أرى منه أعجبا
No wonder save that I see from it more wonders.
The slain of love ransom their killer in passion,
يُفَدِّي قتيلُ الحب قاتلَهُ هوىً
وَيُمسي به الضرغامُ في الأسر رَبَربا
And pass the night in captivity, in awe of him.
The heart asks about him while it harbors
ويسالُ عنهُ القلبُ وَهْوَ مُخَيِّمٌ
به وَيُناجي البرقَ أو نسمةَ الصبا
Him, and speaks intimately to lightning or a zephyr's breeze.
Sometimes the moan of a dove makes him whimper
وآونةُ يَشجيه نوحُ حمامة
بلَحْن تراهُ للصبابةِ مُعْربا
In a melody you see adapted for youth.
With tears his eyes turn to God, and a heart
إلى الله طَرْفاً بالدُّموعِ أنطرافُهُ
وقَلباً أبى إلاَّ إليه تَقَلباً
That refused but to turn toward Him in fickleness.
The army of love conquered him - he passed from dignity
تملَكَهُ جيشُ الغَرام عَرَ مرَ مَا
فأصبَحَ في أيدي سَبَا رَهنَ مَنْ سبا
To be, at the hands of one who captured him, a hostage under duress.
As al-Mansur conquered al-Muqanna' with victory,
كما مَلَكَ المنصورُ بالنّصر مرقبا
غدا النّصر فيه للهُدى مُتَرَقَبا
So victory over him was hoped for, for guidance.
Truly he had been an impregnable fortress, a refuge,
وَقَدْ كانَ حُصْناً لا يرامُ مُمَنّعاً
وَمُهْلكَ أبطال لمَنْ رامَ مَطْلَبا
And the destroyer of heroes for whoever desired his downfall.
