مَا لي وما لِصَوَادِحِ الأَوْرَاقِ

يُكثِرْنَ من قَلقِي ومِنْ إقْلاقِي

What is with me and with the fluttering of leaves?

They increase my anxiety and unease.

مَلأَتْ حَشَايَ أَسىً لِمَا أَملتْهُ مِنْ

قَصَصِ الغَرَامِ علَيَّ والأَشْوَاقِ

They filled my nights with sorrow for what they evoked

Of tales of love for me and longings.

وأَتَتْ بِشَفْعِ غنَائِها فَتَشَفَّعَتْ

لحَبِيسِ دَمْعِ العَينِ في الإطْلاقِ

And they came pleading through their songs and interceded

For the captive of teardrops in my eyes that seek release.

أَنْزَلْنَ بِي أَحْزَانَ يَعْقُوبٍ لِمَا

أَسْمَعنَنِيهِ من غِنَا إسْحَاق

They brought down on me Jacob’s sorrows for what

They made me hear of Isaac’s singing.

عُمري لَكَذَّبتُنَّ ما ادَّعَتِ الوَرَى

قِدْماً لَكُنَّ من الغَرَامِ البَاقِي

Had I believed the false claims of passion’s permanence,

They would have lasted from love remaining.

لَوْ كَانَ عن حُزْنٍ بُكاؤكِ لانْبَرَتْ

عِندَ البُكَاءِ مَدَامِعُ الآمَاقِ

Were your tears from sorrow, fountains would have gushed

Forth with weeping, torrents bursting.

ولَمَا خَضَبْتُنَّ الأكُفَّ وزُيِّنَتْ

أَعْنَاقُكُنَّ بِحِلْيَةِ الأَطْوَاقِ

You dyed hands crimson, graced necks with necklaces

And in the dawn, nestled in branches, adorned with leaves.

ولَمَا افترشتُنَّ الغَدَاةَ نَوَاعِمَ الْ

أغصَانِ وارتشتُنَّ بالأَوْرَاقِ

I am one who when tears diminished for a person

Questioned my streaming tears for explanation.

أنَا مَنْ إذَا ما الدَّمعُ قَلَّ على امْرئٍ

رَفَعَ السُّؤَالَ لِدمْعِيَ المِهْرَاقِ

And when at night the crested hoopoe returns

To her chicks after roaming far,

وإذَا أَوَتْ ليْلاً إلى أفْراخِها

وَرْقَاءُ بعدَ السَّعْي في الآفَاقِ

She casts off her wandering staff and swallows

A cup of sorrow till sunrise,

ألقَتْ عَصَا تَطْوَافِها واستَوْعَبَتْ

كَأسَ الكَرَى شُرْباً إلى الإشْرَاقِ

Or if a long night comes to one restless,

Sorrow shreds it, stoking disquiet,

أو إنْ أتَى اللّيلُ الطَّويلِ لمُقْلَةٍ

شَتَّ الكَرَى وإلى حَشَا إقْلاقِ

And remembrance hurls at my bedclothes missiles

No medicine can counter or potion cure,

وتذَكُّرٍ يرْمِي الحَشَا بأَسَاوِدٍ

ما مَنْ نَهَشْنَ يُفيدُ فيهِ الرَّاقِي

Longing for people whose place is my heart

Though distant on my horizons.

شَوْقاً إلى القَومِ الذين محلُّهُمْ

قَلْبي وإنْ بَعُدوا علَى أحْدَاقِي

I left them, unable to bid farewell,

Or turn my hand to embrace.

فَارَقْتُهُمْ لَمْ أَلْوِ من جِيدٍ لِتَوْ

دِيعٍ ولَمْ أَعْطِفْ يَداً لِعِنَاقِ

Days before hurried my departure

From a friend, hastening my course.

قَد كانَتِ الأَيَّامُ تُعْجِلُ رِحلَتِي

عَنْ وَاصلٍ وتَجُدُّ عَنْهُ سِيَاقِي

Today they envy me one I did not reach

And squeeze me for the taste they stole.

فاليَومَ تَحسِدُنِي علَى مَنْ لم يَصِلْ

وتَغَصُّني من قَبلُ حِينَ مَذَاقِي

By God, if sustenance is apportioned,

And they are not struck by separation’s arrow,

وأَبي لئِنْ قُسِمَ الدُّنوُّ لِمَعْشَرٍ

رِزْقاً فَلَمْ يُرمَوْا بِسَهمِ فِرَاقِ

I am distinguished by distance and estrangement

From those I love, with amplest shares.

فَلَقَدْ خُصِصْتُ من التَّبَاعُدِ والنَّوَى

عَمَّنْ أُحِبُّ بأوْفَرِ الأَرْزَاقِ