الأرضُ بينَ مُدَبَّجٍ ومُحَلَّلِ

والرَّوضُ بينَ مُتَوَّجٍ ومُكَلَّلِ

The land adorned with embroidery and dissolved

The garden between crowned and garlanded

والزَّهرُ بينَ مورَّدٍ ومُوَرَّسٍ

والنَّشرُ بينَ مُمَسَّكٍ ومُصَنْدَلِ

The flowers between blossoming and clustering

The streams between restrained and meandering

والماءُ قد صقَل النسيمُ فِرَنْدَهُ

فتوشَّحتْ منهُ الرياضُ بمُنْصلِ

The water which the breeze has polished in its basin

Adorning the gardens in embroidered gowns

لُوِيَتْ مَذانِبهُ على أدواحِها

فاختلْنَ بينَ مُنَطَّقٍ ومُخَلْخَلِ

Its banks bent over its surface

Confused between speech and murmuring

ما ذاكَ سجعُ نسيبهِ في ظِلِّها

لكنَّهُ وَسواسُ هاتيكَ الحُلي

Not the rhymed prose of its companion in its shade

But the delusions of those adornments

أهلاً بأيَّامِ الرَّبيع وطِيبِها

أُنسِ الخليعِ ونُزهةِ المُتَبتِّلِ

Welcome days of spring in their goodness

The intimacy of youth and stroll of the afflicted

زَمَنٌ أرَقُّ مِنَ الوِداد شَمائلاً

وألذُّ من عصرِ الشبابِ الأوَّلِ

A time gentler in affection than traits

And sweeter than the first days of youth

تُذكي بَلابِلُهُ البَلابِلَ لَوْعةً

ولَرُبَّ بَلبالٍ يَهِيجُ لِبُلبلِ

Its nightingales provoke longing in nightingales

And many a nightingale stirs for a bulbul

أعْجِبْ بهِ من مِهْرجانٍ قائِمٍ

بينَ البَسيطةِ والحَيا المُتَهلِّلِ

Marvel at it like a standing festival

Between wilderness and meadows ringing with joy

حَشَدَ الرِّياضُ لهُ جُنودَ جَمالهِ

وأتى بحافِل جُندهِ في جَحْفَلِ

It has gathered for it the armies of its beauty

And came with its regiments in hordes

فالطَّيرُ تَشْدو والغَديرُ مُصَفِّقٌ

والقُضْبُ ترقُص والأزاهرُ تَنجلي

So the birds sing and the stream applauds

The reeds dance and the flowers shine

وعَرائسُ الأشجار تُجلى في حُلىً

خُضْرٍ ولا وَجْهَ العَروس إذا جُلى

And the brides of the trees reveal themselves in adornments

Of green, not like a bride’s face when unveiled

ما إنْ تَرى عُرساً بأجْمَل منهُ في

عَيْنِ الشَّجيْ إن غابَ عن عَيْنِ الخَلي

You will not see a wedding more beautiful than it

In the eyes of the ardent if absent from the eyes of the dissipated

فاعطفْ عَلى وَجْهِ الزَّمانِ وحَيِّهِ

وانظرُ الى حُسنِ الرَّبيعِ المُقبلِ

So turn to the cheek of time in its life

And observe the beauty of the approaching spring

وأجِلْ لِحاظَك في صِفاحِ كتابهِ

حتَّى تَبَيَّنَ واضحاً من مُشْكلِ

Divert your glance in the clarity of its book

Until it becomes distinctly clear from the ambiguous

وإنِ اعتراك عَشىً لِنيِّرِ نَوْرِهِ

فاعدِلْ لإثمدِ ظِلِّهِ فتكحَّلِ

And if the evening of its light obscures you

Repair to the darkness of its shadow and kohl your eyes

مَن لم يُشاهِدْ موقعَ الحُسنِ الخَفي

مِن مَنْظرٍ لم يَدْرِ ما الحُسنُ الجَلي

Whoever has not witnessed the unseen beauty

Does not know what manifest beauty is

فالحُسنُ ما وَضُحت شَواهدُ فَضْلِه

للْمُجْتَني كوضوحِها للْمُجتَلي

For beauty is what its proofs of merit have clarified

To the discerning as is its clarity to the unmindful

ولَرُبَّ وَرْدَةِ دَوْحةٍ حَيَّتْ بِها

جَاماً تَلهَّب نُورُه في أُنْمُلِ

And many a rose of a sand dune has revived

A goblet whose light flares in fingers

يَندى على جَنباتِه قَطْرُ النَّدى

فاعجَبْ له ماءً وناراً قَدْ مُلي

The dew drops glisten on its sides

Marvel at the water and fire it has contained

قد حُجِّبَتْ في ظلِّها فتَبسَّمتْ

عَنْ قَرْقَفٍ وتَنسَّمتْ عن مَنْدَلِ

Hidden in its shade, it has smiled

From behind a veil and breathed from a screen

مافَتَّح الزَّهرُ الجنيُّ ثُغورَه

إِلّا لِيَرْشُفَ طِيبَ ذاكَ السَّلْسَلِ

The blossoms did not open their gates

Except to sip the perfume of those necklaces

كلاَّ ولا جَمَدتْ عُيونُ بَهارِهِ

إلّا لغَيْرتها عليهِ أو فَلِ

No, and its spring’s eyes did not freeze

Except for jealousy of it or before it

هذي البَلابلُ قد سَجَعْنَ لِشُربهِ

تَشْدو وتُنشدُ في الثَّقيل الأوَّلِ

These nightingales compose rhymed prose for drinking it

Singing and reciting in the first mode

إيهٍ مُطَرِّبةَ الخليِّ بَعَثْتِ لي

أسفَ الشَّجِيْ رُدّي عَليَّ وبَدِّلي

Alas! Reviver of my sorrow, you have revived for me

Regret of the ardent, return it to me and change it

ماعُذْرُها والوردُ مَوْرد عِشْقِها

لَوْ لَمْ تَغَنَّ بِحُسنهِ وتَغَزَّلِ

What excuse while the roses are the goal of her love

If she did not sing of its beauty and rhyme about it?

فالرَّوضُ قد فَتح الحيا في خَدِّهِ

وَرْداً سَبَى وردَ الحياءِ المُخْجِلِ

For the garden has opened shyness on its cheek

Plucking a rose and the shyness of the bashful

عَجباً وحتَّى الحُسْنُ يعشقُ بَعْضُه

بَعْضاً لقَدْ أزْرى الهوى بالعُذَّلِ

Strange that even beauty falls in love with some of itself

Cupid has envied coquetry

لَطَفٌ من الإحسان أعْجَزتِ الورَى

أوْصافُها سُبحانَ مُبْدعِهِا العَلي

Subtle kindness which the creation could not describe

Glory to its Exalted Creator