خَليلَيَّ لا فِطرٌ يَسُرُّ وَلا أَضحى

فَما حالُ مَن أَمسى مَشوقاً كَما أَضحى

My beloved, neither dawn brings joy, nor does eve,

Then what is the state of one who yearns at dusk as at dawn?

لَئِن شاقَني شَرقُ العُقابِ فَلَم أَزَل

أَخُصُّ بِمَمحوضِ الهَوى ذَلِكَ السَفحا

If the east wind distressed me, still I never ceased

To be devoted to the ferment of passion in that plain,

وَما اِنفَكَّ جوفِيُّ الرُصافَةِ مُشعِري

دَواعِيَ ذِكرى تُعقِبُ الأَسَفَ البَرحا

Nor did my inner self cease being roused

By the prompting of memories after sadness departs,

وَيَهتاجُ قَصرُ الفارِسِيِّ صَبابَةً

لِقَلبِيَ لاتَألو زِنادَ الأَسى قَدحا

And the palace of the Persian sways gently

As my heart indefatigably fans the flames of sorrow,

وَلَيسَ ذَميماً عَهدُ مَجلِسِ ناصِحٍ

فَأَقبَلَ في فَرطِ الوَلوعِ بِهِ نُصحا

And the company of an advisor in the past was no dishonor

So he came in excessive ardour with good advice,

كَأَنِّيَ لَم أَشهَد لَدى عَينِ شَهدَةٍ

نِزالَ عِتابٍ كانَ آخِرُهُ الفَتحا

As if I never witnessed at the eye of the beloved

The descent of reproach whose end was opening,

وَقائِعُ جانيها التَجَنّي فَإِن مَشى

سَفيرُ خُضوعٍ بَينَنا أَكَّدَ الصُلحا

And the deeds of the one who wronged, if he walks

As an envoy of humility between us, he confirms peace,

وَأَيّامُ وَصلٍ بِالعَقيقِ اِقتَضَيتُهُ

فَإِلّا يَكُن ميعادُهُ العيدَ فَالفِصحا

And days of connection with mellow wine I procured

Unless its time be Eid, or Easter,

وَآصالُ لَهوٍ في مُسَنّاةِ مالِكٍ

مُعاطاةَ نَدمانٍ إِذا شِئتَ أَو سَبحا

And nights of revelry in the tavern of Malik

Sometimes playing music, or swimming as you wish,

لَدى راكِدٍ يُصبيكَ مِن صَفَحاتِهِ

قَواريرُ خُضرٍ خِلتَها مُرِّدَت صَرحا

With a anchored one who pours you from his balconies

Green goblets whose wine is tempered in the mansion,

مَعاهِدُ لَذّاتٍ وَأَوطانُ صَبوَةٍ

أَجَلتُ المُعَلّى في الأَماني بِها قِدحا

The haunts of pleasures and lands of youth

Where I put off the full one with them in my dreams,

أَلا هَل إِلى الزَهراءِ أَوبَةُ نازِحٍ

تَقَضّى تَنائيها مَدامِعَهُ نَزحا

Can it be! Does the sanctuary of the blossoming one still stand

And accomplish its far goal his tears pouring forth?

مَقاصيرُ مُلكٍ أَشرَقَت جَنَباتُها

فَخِلنا العِشاءَ الجَونَ أَثناءَها صُبحا

The towers of a kingdom whose sides shone

And we spent the night in them while it was still dawn,

يُمَثِّلُ قُرطَيها لِيَ الوَهمُ جَهرَةً

فَقُبَّتَها فَالكَوكَبَ الرَحبَ فَالسَطحا

Imagination represents its domes before me

So its cupola, then the vast celestial sphere, then the roof,

مَحَلُّ اِرتِياحٍ يُذكِرُ الخُلدَ طيبُهُ

إِذا عَزَّ أَن يَصدى الفَتى فيهِ أَو يَضحى

A place of comfort whose beauty reminds of eternity

If the youth seldom echoes in it or spends the day there,

هُناكَ الجِمامُ الزُرقُ تُندي حِفافَها

ظِلالٌ عَهِدتُ الدَهرَ فيها فَتىً سَمحا

There are the blue doves that coo on its banks,

Shadows where I entrusted to time therein a noble youth,

تَعَوَّضتُ مِن شَدوِ القِيانِ خِلالَها

صَدى فَلَواتٍ قَد أَطارَ الكَرى ضَبحا

I compensated for the severity of separation through them

An echo of expanses the vintages had filled at dawn,

وَمِن حَملِيَ الكَأسَ المُفَدّى مُديرُها

تَقَحُّمُ أَهوالٍ حَمَلتُ لَها الرُمحا

And from carrying the cup whose guide I ransom

Penetrating terrors, for it I carried the lance,

أَجَل إِنَّ لَيلي فَوقَ شاطِئِ نيطَةٍ

لَأَقصَرُ مِن لَيلي بِآنَةَ فَالبَطحا

Yes, my night above the shore of Naytah

Is shorter than my night at Anah then Bat'ha.