أَشْكُو إِلى اللهِ السميعِ المجِيبْ

ما قَدْ دَهى قلْبِي المُعَنَّى الكَئِيبْ

I complain to Allah, the All-Hearing, the Responsive,

Of what has befallen my weary, sorrowful heart.

نَارُ الهوَى قَدْ زَلَّعَتْ أَكْبُدِي

وقَدَّنِي البَيْنُ بِسَيْفٍ قَضِيب

The fire of passion has blistered my vitals,

And separation has cleaved me with a sharp sword.

وَسَلَّ مِنْ جَفْنِي الكَرَى وارْتَدى

لَوْنِي بُرُودَ الشمْسِ عِنْدَ المغِيبْ

It drew slumber from my eyelids, as

My complexion donned the robes of the setting sun.

دَعْنِي لَحَاكَ اللهُ يَا عَاذِلِي

فَلَسْتَ أُصْغِي لِعَذولٍ مُريبْ

Leave me be—may Allah rebuke you, O my blamer!

For I pay no heed to a cynical reproacher.

أَمَا تَرى السُّقْمَ بَرَى أَضْلُعي

وَخَدَّدَ الْخَدَّيْنِ دَمْعِي الصَّبِيبْ

Do you not see how sickness has worn down my ribs,

And how my pouring tears have furrowed my cheeks?

دَعْنِي وَحالِي فَالْهَوى دَيْدَنِي

وَمَذْهَبِي الأَسْنَى وَخِدْنِي الأَرِيبْ

Leave me to my state, for passion is my custom,

My most exalted path, and my wise companion.

ما هَامَ مِثْلي قَيْسُ لَيْلَى بِهَا

وَلا الفَتَى العُذْرِيُّ عُرْوَ اللَّبِيبْ

Not even Qays was as infatuated with Layla as I,

Nor the Udhri youth, the intelligent Urwa,

وَلا ابْنُ زَيْدُونٍ بِوَلاَّدَةٍ

وَلِي منَ العِفَّةِ أَوْفَى نَصيبْ

Nor Ibn Zaydun with his Wallada,

Yet I possess the most abundant share of chastity.

أَفْدِي بِنَفْسِي مَنْ بِهِ أُولِعَتْ

مِنْ شَادِنٍ يَهْتَزُّ مِثْلَ الْقَضِيبْ

I ransom with my soul the one I am enamored with,

A young fawn who sways like a tender branch,

مُنَعَّمِ الأَطْرافِ طَاوِي الْحَشَا

كَالبَدْرِ إِلاَّ أَنَّهُ لاَ يَغِيبْ

Soft of limb, slender of waist,

Like the full moon, save that he never sets.

لَوْ أَبْصَرَتْ عَيْنَاكَ صُورَتَهُ

أَبْصَرْتَبَدْراً فَوْقَ غُصْنٍ رَطِيبْ

If your eyes were to look upon his form,

You would see a full moon atop a supple bough.

قَدْ سَطَّرَ الحُسْنُ عَلى وجْهِهِ

بِجُلَّنَارٍ إِنَّ ذَا لَعَجِيبْ

Beauty has inscribed upon his face

With pomegranate blossoms—truly this is wondrous!

جَرَّعَنِي مِنْ بَيْنِهِ أَكْؤُساً

مِنْ زَفَرَاتٍ وَضَنىً وَنَحِيبْ

Separation from him has made me drink deep from cups

Of agonizing sighs, wasting sickness, and weeping,

فَصِرْتُ مِنْ حَرِّ الْجَوَى مُنْشِداً

أَشْكُو إِلَى اللهِ السَّمِيعِ الْمُجِيبْ

Until, from the burning heat of longing, I began to chant:

I complain to Allah, the All-Hearing, the Responsive.