أتخذُلُني إذ كُنتُ أُخفي وأكتُمُ

غراماً غَدَت عنهُ العُيونُ تترجمُ

I take you to task, for when you were concealed, and I kept secret

A love that eyes began translating from it.

وسرُّ الهوى لا يُمكنُ الحرَّ كتمهُ

وأيسر معنى فيه بالعين يُفهمُ

And the secret of passion cannot remain hidden by the free.

Its easiest meaning through the eye is understood.

لَعُمركَ لو ذُقتَ الذي أنا ذائقٌ

تألَّمت لي لو كان يُجدى التألُّمُ

By your life! If you tasted what I taste

You would have felt sorry for me, if feeling sorry could avail.

دَع الصبَّ يُبدي ما يلاقي منَ الهوى

على أنَّه يشكو لمن ليسَ يرحَمُ

Leave the youth to confess what he faces from passion

As if he complains to one who does not pity.

أتامرُ بالسُّلوانِ قلباً متيَّماً

وهيهاتَ يسلو الحبَّ قلبٌ متيَّمُ

Do you command a heart struck with calamity

And woe, passion cannot soothe a stricken heart.

وبي رشأٌ فأرقت من طيب وصله

رَبيعاً فصبرى مذنايتُ مُحرَّمُ

I had tranquility, so I became sleepless from its goodness.

My two companions became forbidden in spring.

أقام لتعذيبي بقلبي لأنَّه

غدا مالكاً والقلبُ منَّي جَهنَّمُ

He set up my torment in my heart, for he

Became its owner, while my heart from me is hell

رَمَيتُ فؤادي في يديه وطالما

تندَّمت لكن ما أفادَ التندُّمُ

I threw my heart in his hands, and how much

I regretted, but regret does not avail.

فهلُ منصفٌ أشكُو إلى عدل حُكمه

حبيباً على ضعفٍ يجورُ ويَظلِمُ

Is there an arbiter I may complain to about the justice of his rule,

A lover of weakness who is unjust and oppresses?

ويسحرُ عيني والعيون قريرةٌ

ويسهرني في الليل والناسُ نومُ

He bewitches my eyes while they are innocent,

And keeps me awake in the night while people sleep.

وألبَسَني ثوباً من السُّقمِ سَاذجاً

فطرَّزه دمعي فوجدي مُعلَمُ

He made me wear a garment of sickness innocently,

So my tears embroidered it, and I found it marked.

أجدُّ به وجداً وأُصَبحُ هَاذياً

وأشكو إليه وهو بالحال أعلمُ

I show passion towards him and become well in the morning,

And complain to him while he is the most knowing of my condition.

وأبكي لتذكارِ العُذَيبِ وبَارق

وما القصدُ إلا رِيقُهُ والتَّبسُّمُ

And I cry in remembrance of torment and shining

While my only aim is his smile and cheerfulness.

وَليلةِ وَصلٍ منهُ باتَ يُعيدُها

بفكري ظنٌّ كاذبٌ وتوهُّم

The night of union with him I pass repeatedly

With my thoughts, a false assumption and imagination.

فلو كان طرفي ذاق من بعدها الكرى

تَخيَّلتُ أني منه بالطَّيفِ أحلُمُ

If my eye had tasted separation from him after it

I would have imagined I was dreaming him in apparition.