ما لِي إذا هبَّ عَليلُ الرّياحْ

يَرْوي أحاديثَ غَرامي صِحاحْ

What is wrong if the morning breeze relates the tales of my passion so very clearly,

And why should my tears conceal my love when they speak so openly of the secrets of my passion.

وما لدَمْعي إذ كتَمتُ الهَوى

باحَ بأسْرارِ غَرامي صُراحْ

My eyelids were sleepless the night I intended,

A shining lantern with inflammation kept me awake.

وأرّقَ الأجْفانَ يوْمَ النّوى

سَنا وميضٍ بالحِمى قدْ ألاحْ

And my tears revealed the secret of passion,

So that the more I try to hide it, the more clearly it shows.

وصرّحَ الدمْعُ بسرِّ الهَوى

فكلّما أُخْفيهِ زادَ اتّضاحْ

Thus, the tears in my eyes never ceased to pour down

And the agony of my passion cannot be extinguished or calmed.

فدمْعُ جفْنِي لمْ يزَلْ صَيّباً

وزَنْدُ شوْقي ليسَ يُلْفَى شَحاحْ

Can I now conceal my love when the secret of my passion has become exposed?

I am infatuated with a gazelle whose eyes have always been sick, causing distress to the healthy.

أأسْتَطيعُ الآن كتْمَ الهَوى

وقدْ غَدا سِرُّ غَرامي مُباحْ

With his height and glances he continues to destroy both the dark-skinned and the fair complexioned.

His glances dishonor the eggs of the grouse and his height belittles the spears of warriors.

هِمْتُ بظَبْيٍ لمْ يزَلْ جَفْنُهُ

ذا مَرَضٍ يُمْرِضُ منّا الصّحاحْ

He smiles with dimpled cheeks like the buds blossoming in a meadow.

And his moles have become as fragrant as the blossoms when they bloom.

من قدّه ولحْظِهِ لم يزَلْ

يَفْتُكُ بالسُّمْرِ وبيضِ الصِّفاحْ

I have shed my chastity in love, so would there be any sin in doing so?

The ardent lover cannot be blamed in his love, for youth pays no heed to censure.

فلحْظُهُ يُزْري ببيضِ الظُّبا

وقدُّهُ يُزْري بسُمْرِ الرّماحْ

O the one whom God rebuke for estrangement when rejection has become unjust and false!

How can I endure patience from his love when most of my patience is already shattered?

يبْسِمُ عن ثغْرٍ شَنيبٍ كَما

تَبسِمُ في الرّوْضِ ثُغورُ الأقاحْ

There is no sin upon the lover if he lowers his wings in love toward the beloved.

I made him the judge, so his judgment, if sound to me, is good.

وقدْ غَدا لناشِقٍ عَرْفُهُ

يحْكي شَذا الزَّهْرِ إذا الزَّهْرُ فاحْ

A gazelle, when I remember him, I bend with comfort like a branch.

His glance among lovers has the impact of an Indian sword on the day of battle.

خلَعْتُ في الحُبِّ عِذاري فهلْ

عليَّ في خَلْعِ عِذاري جُناحْ

He rivals a slender branch when it is bent, and outshines the full moon when it shines.

Union with him is my heart's content, separation from him is accessible bathhouse.

لا يُعْذَلُ المُشْتاقُ في حُبِّه

فالصّبُّ لا يُصْغي إلى قوْلِ لاحْ

I will seek his proximity after intention, for the difficult terrain may soften after rigidness.

I crafted my verses in his description as the immaculate gardens crafted their blossoms.

يا قاتَلَ اللهُ عَذولاً جَفا

لمّا غَدا في العذْلِ ظُلماً وراحْ

Maybe it will extinguish the fire of passion with its cool, delicate, and soothing radiance.

For the heart inclines toward him whenever the morning breezes blow.

كيفَ أطيقُ الصّبْرَ عنْ حُبِّهِ

وربْعُ صبْري قدْ غَدا مُسْتَباحْ

ليسَ على الصّبِّ جُناحٌ إذا

يَخفِضُ في الحُبِّ إليْهِ الجَناحْ

حكَّمتُهُ يقضي بما يرْتَضي

فحُكْمُهُ إنْ جارَ عِندي صَلاحْ

ظَبْيٌ إذا ما عادَني ذِكْرُهُ

أميلُ كالغُصْنِ إليْهِ ارْتِياحْ

يفعَلُ في أهلِ الهَوى لحْظُهُ

فِعْلَ الحُسامِ الصّلْتِ يومَ الكِفاحْ

يحْكي قضيبَ البانِ مهْما انثَنى

ويُخْجِلُ البَدْرَ إذا البدْرُ لاحْ

فالوَصْلُ لي منهُ بُلوغُ المُنى

والهَجْرُ لي منْهُ حِمامٌ مُتاحْ

سأرْتَجي بعْدَ النّوى قُرْبَه

فقدْ يَلينُ الصّعْبُ بعْدَ الجِماحْ

جَلَوْتُ أبْياتيَ في وصْفِهِ

كما جلَتْ زهْرَ الرِّياضِ البِطاحْ

لعلّهُ يُطْفِئُ نارَ الجَوى

بريقِه العَذْبِ البَرودِ القَراحْ

فالقَلْبُ يَصبو نحْوَهُ كلّما

هبّتْ نُسَيماتُ الصَّبا بالصَّباحْ