أَنا في المَحَبَّةِ قَد أَطَبت غِراسي

وَبِها البُعادُ لَقَد أَضاعَ حَواسي

In love, I have tended my saplings,

And in it, separation has confused my senses.

يا مَن لَماهُ يَفوقُ بِنتَ الكاسِ

قَسَماً بِأَهيفِ قدِّك الميّاسِ

O you whose smoothness surpasses a goblet's daughter!

I swear by your tall, straight figure,

وَورودِ خدِّكَ والعِذارِ الآسي

وَجَبينكَ الحاوي المَحاسِنَ وَالبها

And the roses of your cheek, and the languishing gazelles,

And your brow, possessing beauty and splendor,

وَهَواكَ إذ عنه المتيَّم ما لها

ولِحاظِك اللّاتي تَصيدُ بِها المَها

And your love - when the yearning complain of it -

And your glances that hunt with them the glances,

وَجمالِكَ الفتّانِ أَرباب النّهى

ما أَنتَ إِلّا فِتنَةٌ لِلنّاسِ

And your enchanting beauty, lords of prohibition,

You are nothing but temptation for people.

خَلّوا العَواذِلَ في الغَرامِ تعيبُني

وَلَظى الصبابةِ في هَواهُ يذيبني

Leave off blaming me, O censurers, for my passion,

And the youths' ardour melts me with its love.

يا مَنْ بأسهُمِ مُقلتَيْهِ يُصيبُني

أَشكو إِلَيكَ صَبابَتي فَتُجيبُني

O you whose harshness strikes my eyelids,

I complain to you of my youth, so answer me!

مُتْ في المحبّةِ خامِدَ الأنفاسِ

أَنا مُغرَمٌ صارَ التّصابي فنَّهُ

Die in love, extinguished of breath.

I am a lover whom desire has perfected its craft,

وَغدَوتُ مَملوكَ الحبيبِ وقِنَّهُ

أَتَصدُّني يا ذا المملّك واِبنَه

And I have become a slave of the beloved and his fidelity.

Do you forbid me, O lord of the kingdom and its prince,

وتقولُ أفَلا علمتَ بأَنَّهُ

مِن حبِّ أَولادِ المُلوكِ يُقاسي

And say: "Do you not know that

it is agony to love the sons of kings?"

كَيفَ الخَلاصُ مِنَ العَذولِ وعَذلِهِ

مَنْ ذا يُدِلُّ على الحَبيبِ وَوَصلِهِ

How can I be saved from love's harm and its pain?

Who will guide me to the beloved and joining him?

أَفَلا تَرى متغرِّباً عن أهلِهِ

يا مَنْ رضيتُ تغرُّبي من أجلِهِ

Do you not see me estranged from my family and people

For the one I was content to be estranged for?

لِيَرِقَّ لي منهُ الفُوادُ القاسي

القَلبُ بين تقطُّعٍ وَتَفتُّتِ

So that he might be gentle with me, my tough heart.

My heart is torn and shattered,

وَالحبّ لَيسَ معاملاً لي بالّتي

يا هاجِري والهَجرُ فيه مَنِيَّتي

And love is not dealing with me kindly.

O my migrator! And in separation is my demise.

جُدْ بالوِصالِ فقد أطلْتُ تشتُّتي

وفِراقَ أَوطاني وَبُعدَ أُناسي

Be earnest in union, for long have I suffered my fragmentation,

And the separation from my homelands and people.