قد استظهرت شعري ثريا فكلما

جلستُ اليها انشدتني قوافيا

My poetry has become abundant since whenever

I sit down to compose, rhymes come to me

يتيمها شعري ولولاه لم تكن

متيمةً بي تستطيب التلاقيا

My poetry is an orphan and without it she would not

Yearn for me, savoring our meetings

وتطلبُ مني كل يومٍ قصيدةً

أُذيعُ بها للناسِ ما كان خافيا

And she asks me every day for a poem

Through which I broadcast to people what was hidden

وأخبرهم فيها بما هو بيننا

وأُنهي إليهم كيف نقضي اللياليا

And tell them in it what is between us

And reveal to them how we spend our nights

تريد ثريا أن يذيع غرامنا

وأن اتغنى بالغرامِ مباهيا

Thria wants my poetry to spread our love

And for me to sing of passion boastfully

ومن فخرها أن يعرفوني حبيبها

وأن لها دون الحسان فؤاديا

And she takes pride in them knowing I am her beloved

And that she has my heart and no other

قد استأثرت مني بشعري ومهجتي

فصرت لها عبداً وصارت كذا ليا

She has monopolized my poetry and inspiration

So I became her slave and she became mine

وتغضب من شعري إذا جاء مرةً

ولم ينتحل من مقلتيها المعانيا

And she gets angry if my poetry one day

Does not draw meanings from her eyelids

لقد ماتَ خلٌ لي فصغت له الرثا

بقافيةٍ تجري الدموعَ العواصيا

Indeed, a friend of mine passed away, so I eulogized him

With verses flowing with copious tears

فلما أتى شعري ثريا تفجرت

مدامعها تكسو الورود لآليا

But when my poetry reached Thria, her tears poured forth

Adorning the roses with pearls

وقالت عرتني غيرةٌ من فتىً قضى

فخلاكَ تبكيه بشعرك راثيا

And she said, “I am jealous of a boy who passed away

While you mourn him in elegy with your poetry

أود لو أني مت قبل مماته

لتنظم بي هذي القوافي البواكيا

I wish I had died before his death

So you would compose these tearful rhymes for me