سَلا هَل سَلا أَو هَل تَقَلَّبَ قَلبُهُ
وَإِلّا فَتُنبي بِالكَآبَةِ كُتبُهُ
Ask him: has he found solace, or has his heart changed?
If not, his writings betray his melancholy.
غَريبُ أَسىً يَهوى غَريبَ مَلاحَةٍ
مِنَ التُركِ أَمثالُ الحَواجِبِ حَجبُهُ
A stranger in sorrow, he loves a stranger in beauty,
one of the Turks; his veils are like eyebrows.
غَزالٌ وَلَكِنَ الفُؤادَ كِناسُهُ
هِلالٌ وَلَكِنَّ الغَلائِلَ سُحبُهُ
A gazelle—but the heart is his covert;
a crescent—but his under-robes are his clouds.
تَغارُ المَها مِن مُقلَتَيهِ إِذا رَنا
وَتَحسُدُهُ إِن ماسَ في الرَوضِ قُضبُهُ
The oryx envy his eyes whenever he gazes,
and when he sways through the garden, its boughs envy him.
أَلا يا نَديمي مِن لِصَبٍّ مُتَيَّمٍ
كَئيبٍ غِناهُ النَوحُ وَالدَمعُ شُربُهُ
Ah, my companion—who will aid a love-maddened lover,
melancholy, whose song is wailing and whose drink is tears?
جَفا جَفنُهُ طيبَ الكَرى لَيلَةَ السُرى
وَجُنِّبَ عَنِ لينِ الحَشِيَّةِ جَنبُهُ
His eyelid has forsaken sweet slumber, devoted to journeying by night,
and his side is kept far from the softness of the bedding.
Sol 5.6