دامَ سُهدُ الصّبِّ وَالدّمعُ يسحُّ
وَأَلحَّ الشوقُ والشوقُ مُلِحُّ
The sleeplessness of dawn persists as tears flow,
Yearning intensifies, intensifying my grief.
أَسهرُ اللّيلَ وَأَرعى نَجمَهُ
كلَّما بي مرَّ جنح جاءَ جنحُ
I stay up nights to gaze upon its star,
Whenever a wing passes by me, another one comes.
لا أَذوقُ النّومَ ذابَت مُهجتي
مِن ضَنى السُّهدِ وَمسَّ العينَ قرحُ
I cannot taste sleep, my love is melting away
From the anguish of insomnia and tears wounding my eye.
هل تَذوقُ العينُ يا وَيحي الكَرى
وَبِجَفنَيها لَهُ قَد كانَ ذبحُ
Does the eye experience, O the torment of passion?!
While its eyelids, it was as if slaughtered by it.
مَرضَ الجسمُ وَطالَت عِلّتي
ما بِقَلبي لِدواء كانَ نُجحُ
My body is sick and my illness lingers,
In my heart, no remedy has brought me relief.
قَد خَسِرتُ الرّوحَ مُذ ذُقتُ الهَوى
تاجِراً في العِشقِ قَد أَعياه كَدحُ
I lost my soul since I tasted passion,
A merchant in love, exhausted by its toil.
إِن خَسرتُ الرّوحَ وَجدي في الهَوى
هُوَ رِبح لَم يَكُن يَحكيهِ رِبحُ
If I lost my soul yet found in passion,
It is a gain no gain has ever recounted.
فَتَحَ العِشقُ لِقَلبي بابَهُ
ما لِذا البابِ لِغَيري كانَ فَتحُ
Love opened its door to my heart,
Never has this door opened for another.
قَد شَرِبتُ الخَمرَ مِن كوبِ الهَوى
وَبِها لِلكوبِ فيضٌ ثمَّ رَشحُ
I drank the wine from the chalice of passion,
And from it the chalice overflowed then dripped.
خَمرَةُ العِشقِ بِها الصبّ صَحا
لِلهَوى ما لِسواهُ كانَ يَصحو
The wine of love brings sobriety with it,
Nothing else could ever bring sobriety for passion.
أَنا كالوُرْقِ كِلانا نائِحٌ
يَملأُ الكَونَ نُواحاً حَيثُ يَنحو
I am like the leaves, both of us grieving,
Sorrow fills the universe wherever it turns.
إِنّ نَوحي هُوَ نَوحٌ وبكا
لَيسَ بِالصّدحِ وَنوحُ الوُرقِ صَدحُ
My lamenting is pure sorrow and crying,
Not like the rustling of leaves, the rustling of leaves echoes.
يا لقَومي ضاعَ عَقلي بِالهَوى
فَجُنوني فيهِ نَبعٌ لا يَشحُّ
O my people, my mind is lost in passion,
My madness in it is a spring that never dries up.
مَنْ مُعيني بِالّذي ينمي الهَوى
فيَّ تِهياماً بِهِ الوجدُ يلحُّ
Who will help me with that which grows passion in me?
With it, fervor persists, insistence persists.
إِنّ مَتنَ الصبّ أَوهاهُ الهَوى
وَلِصَدري بِالهَوى ما زالَ شَرحُ
The text of dawn, passion has confused it,
And my chest continues to expand with passion.
لَم يَكُن عَيشي سِوى عَيشِ الهَوى
يا عَذولي كَم لِهَذا العَيشِ مِلحُ
My life has only been the life of passion,
O you who blame me, how delicious is this life!
يا عَذولي لا تَلُمني في الهَوى
إِنّ لَومي في الهَوى وَاللَّه قُبحُ
O you who blame me, do not blame me for passion,
Blaming me for passion, by God, is despicable.
عاذِلي إِنْ لُمتَني لَم أَفُتهم
أَيُّ فَهمٍ لِمُعنّىً لَيسَ يَصحو
You who blame me, if you blame me, do not understand,
What understanding is there for what cannot be fathomed?
أَترى في اللَّومِ نُصحاً في الهوى
عَنهُ فَاِرجِع لَم يَكُن في اللَّوم نُصحُ
Do you see any advice in blaming passion?
Abandon it, there is no advice in blame.
من عَذيري في هَوى شَمسِ الضّحى
حُسنهُ كَم قَد مَحا حُسناً وَيَمحو
What is my excuse in the passion for the sun of daybreak?
Its beauty, how much beauty it has erased and continues to erase!
بَدرُ تِمٍّ كلّ شَمس كاسِف
هَل يُضاهى وَهوَ لا تَحكيهِ ضِحُّ
The full moon that outshines every sun,
Can it be compared? It cannot be described by the sun.
جَوهَرِيُّ الثَّغرِ خَمريُّ اللّمى
وَهوَ عَذبٌ وَبِهِ لِلمِسكِ نَفحُ
Ruby lipped, wine colored, so sweet,
Musk exudes from it.
لَحظُهُ الهِندي قَلبي جارِحٌ
مِنهُ قَلبي في حِسابي لا يَصِحُّ
His Indian glance splits my heart,
My heart cannot compute his calculations of it.
قَسَمَ القَلبَ وَأَفنى جَمعَهُ
حَيثُ مِنهُ نالَه ضَربٌ وَطَرحُ
It divided the heart and destroyed its entirety,
Wherever it struck from it and subtracted.
طَرفُه عَضبٌ وَفي أَجفانِهِ
لِيَ نَبل وَلِطَعني القدُّ رمحُ
His eyelash is anger, and in his eyelids,
For me are arrows, and for my wound, spears.
لَم يَدَع في الجِسمِ منِّي وَالحَشا
مَوضِعاً إِلّا وَفيهِ منهُ جرحُ
It left no place in my body or senses,
Except in it were wounds from him.
أَخجَلَ الأَغصانَ مَيلاً قَدُّهُ
بِالتَّثنّي إِذ تَثنّى مِنهُ كَشحُ
It bent the branches with its leaning,
As it leaned, a bending appeared from it.
وَدَّ قَتلي وَوِصالي قَد أَبى
يا فُؤادي لِرِضا ما ودّ فَاِنحُ
It wanted my killing and my union, but my heart refused,
O my heart, it never acquiesced to what it desired.
يا سَقاكَ العِزّ يا بُرجَ العُلى
غَيث مَجدٍ فَوقَك الدّهرَ يَسِحُّ
O you watered by glory, O tower of loftiness,
A rain cloud of honor hovering over you through time.
لا تَزالُ الدّهرَ يا بُرجَ العُلى
لِلمِعالي فيكَ شَمسٌ ثمَّ صبحُ
You shall never cease, O tower of loftiness,
To have within you a sun, then the dawn.
في دِيارِ العزِّ عِكّار الّتي
في ذُراها لِهزارِ السّعدِ صَدحُ
In the land of glory and honor that
In its atoms, the ringing of happiness echoes.
حَلَّ هَذا البرجَ مِن أَوجِ السّهى
بَدرٌ جاهٍ نورهُ حلم وَصفحُ
This tower ascended from the summit of highness,
An eminent full moon, its light is dream and clemency.
شَمسُ مَجدٍ بيتها مِن شَرَفٍ
سَقفُهُ السّؤدد وَالعَلياءُ سَطحُ
The sun of glory, its home is of nobility,
Its ceiling is the stars, and the highest is its roof.
سَيّدٌ أَفخمُ شَهمٌ ماجِدٌ
في ذُرى المجدِ لهُ قَد شِيد صَرحُ
A master most generous, courageous with glory,
In the atoms of glory, a palace was built for him.
وَعَليُّ اِسمٌ أَبوهُ أَسعَدٌ
مُرعب الأُسدِ وَلَو لَم يَكُن كَفحُ
And Ali is a name, his father is Asaad,
Frightening the lion, even if there were no battle.
آصِف الهِمّةِ مَعن في السّخا
سَمح كَفٍّ لَم يَكُن يَحكيهِ سَمحُ
Keen of ambition, gentle in generosity,
A palm that was never described as being generous.
يَستَقِلُّ البحر لَو جادَ بِهِ
وَلَديهِ بَذلُ مثل البحرِ شُحُّ
He could cross the sea if he headed towards it,
And he has generosity like the sea, never stingy.
فارِسُ الغَبراءِ يبدي عَجباً
أَي مَيدان بِهِ لِلخَيلِ ضبحُ
The knight of dusty (battle) shows wonder,
What battlefield for horses has a meadow?
هازِمُ الفُرسانِ يَكسو رَعشة
لَهُمُ فيها بِطولِ الدّهرِ فضحُ
Vanquisher of knights, he clothes trembling in them,
For eternity, exposing them.
أَسدُ الغابِ وَضِرغام الوَغى
لَم يَكُن في حَربِهِ لِلأسدِ رِبحُ
The lion of the forest and the roaring of war,
In his war, the lion had no gain.
بَل لَهُم مِن خَوفِهم قَصدٌ بِأَن
دامَ مِنهُ لَهمُ سِلمٌ وَصلحُ
Rather, their aim in fearing him is that,
As long as peace and reconciliation from him remain.
كَيفَ يَخشى الأسدَ لَو قَد زَأَرت
وَلَديهِ فَزئيرُ الأُسْدِ نبحُ
How can the lion fear if it roared,
And its roar is the bark of lions!
سَيفُهُ الهِنديّ حَيثُ اِستَلَّهُ
فيهِ لِلسُّوق وَالأَعناقِ مَسحُ
His Indian sword wherever he unsheathed it,
Had the effect of sweeping the markets and necks.
رُمحُهُ لَو هَزَّهُ ذابَت بِهِ
سُمُرُ القَومِ فَلا يَسلَمُ رمحُ
And if he shook his spear, its (tip) would melt
The summers of people, so no spear remains.
مِن دِماءِ الأسدِ رَوَّى سَيفَهُ
حَيثُ مِنهُ نالَها سفكٌ وَسَفحُ
He quenched his sword with the blood of lions,
Wherever it attained it, spilling and pouring.
مِن قُلوبِ الأسدِ غَذّى رُمحَهُ
حَيثُ مِنهُ نالَها طَعنٌ وَجرحُ
He fed his spear with the hearts of lions,
Wherever it attained them, piercing and wounding.
الأَميرُ الصّدرُ رَأسُ الأُمرا
غَير هَذا فَهوَ وَهْمٌ لا يَصِحُّ
The foremost chief, head of matters,
Other than this one, it is delusion that cannot be correct.
صائِبُ الرّأيِ سَديدٌ ما يرى
لا يُرى فيما يراهُ الدّهرَ قَدحُ
Keen of opinion, precise in what he envisions,
No fault can be seen in what he sees throughout time.
إِن يَقُلْ شَيئاً يُصبْ في قَولِهِ
فَلِهذا قَوله القَولُ الأَصَحُّ
If he says something, precision hits his words,
Thus his words are the most proper words.
أَيّها التاجُ لِأَبناءِ العُلى
مَن بهِ الدّهرَ سَما حَمدٌ وَمدحُ
O Crown of the eminent sons,
The one through whom time ascended in praise and eulogy!
مَن عَلى رايَتهِ حيثُ سَرَت
دائِماً نَصرٌ مِنَ اللَّهِ وَفتحُ
The one whose banner wherever it went,
Constant victory from God and openings were upon it!
هاكَ بِكراً بِنت فِكرٍ غادَةً
حُسنُها حسنَ بَناتِ النّظمِ يَمحو
Her beauty erases the beauty of the daughters of poetry.
So accept her from you, with approval and consent,
فَاِحبُها مِنكَ قَبولاً وَرِضاً
فَهوَ مَنح مثلهُ لَم يَكُ منحُ
For it is a bestowal the like of which has not been bestowed.
And of chivalry, protect her from time,
وَمِنَ الفَضلِ فَصُنها الدّهرَ أنْ
يَتَلقّاها إِذا وافَتكَ طرحُ
When it comes across her as if to throw her down.
And let the time be in enjoyable livelihood,
وَاِسلَمِ الدّهرَ بِراضي عيشَةٍ
ما بَدا بَدرٌ وَما قَد لاحَ صُبحُ
Neither has the full moon appeared, nor has dawn emerged.
Neither has the foliage in slopes rustled,
ما تَغَنَّت في الرُّبى الورقاءُ ما
طابَ مِنها وَهيَ فَوقَ الغصنِ صدحُ
Nor has its freshness sounded while atop the branch.
As long as the sleeplessness of dawn persists, and tears flow!
ما مِنَ العِشقِ غَراماً وَجَوى
دامَ سُهدُ الصبِّ وَالدَّمعُ يَسِحُّ
