وَمُلِحَّةٍ في العَذلِ ذاتِ نَصيحَةٍ

تَرجو إِنابَةَ ذي مُجونٍ مارِقِ

A friend grants wise counsel though love wounds the heart,

And a woman persistent in blame, offering sincere counsel,

Hoping to turn a wild straying soul to walk the right path.

Hoping for the repentance of a shameless, renegade rogue,

بَكَرَت تُبَصِّرُني الرَشادِ وَشيمَتي

غَيرُ الرَشادِ وَمَذهَبي وَخَلائِقي

She admonished me to follow virtue and self-restraint,

She came early to show me the path of rectitude, though my nature

Though that right path opposes my nature and character.

Is far from rectitude, as are my creed and my character.

لَمّا أَلَحَّت في العِتابِ زَجَرتُها

فَتَأَخَّرَت عَنّي بِقَلبٍ خافِقِ

When her rebukes grew harsh I silenced her,

When she persisted in her reproach, I rebuked her,

And she retreated from me with a pounding heart.

So she retreated from me with a trembling heart.

كَم رُضتُ قَلبي فَاِعلَمي وَزَجَرتُهُ

فَرَأى اِتِّباعَ الرُشدِ غَيرَ مُوافِقِ

How I calmed my heart, she should know. I silenced it

How often have I trained my heart—know this—and restrained it,

When I saw the right course was not to my taste.

But it deemed the pursuit of righteousness unsuitable.

وَمُدامَةٍ مِثلِ الخَلوقِ عَتيقَةٍ

حُجِبَت زَماناً في كَنائِسِ دابِقِ

A vintage wine, refined as virtue itself,

And many a vintage wine, like saffron ointment in hue,

Long hidden in dark cellars from prying eyes,

Veiled for an age within the churches of Dabiq,

تَختالُ أَلواناً إِذا ما صُفِّقَت

في الكَأسِ تُخرِسُ مِن لِسانِ الناطِقِ

Shimmers in hues when poured in a glass -

Parading shifting colors when it is decanted,

It leaves the eloquent mute in mid-speech.

In the cup, silencing the tongue of the eloquent speaker.

ذَهَبِيَّةٌ تَختالُ في جَنَباتِها

كَالدُرِّ أَلَّفَهُ نِظامُ الراتِقِ

A golden wine which glitters in its chalice

A golden essence strutting along its rim,

Like a perfect pearl strung by a master’s hand.

Like pearls strung together by the jeweler's hand.

باكَرتُها مِن كَفِّ أَغيَدَ شادِنٍ

حَسَنِ التَنَغُّمِ فَوقَ سُؤلِ العاشِقِ

I drank it from the palm of a slender-waisted cupbearer,

I drank it at dawn from the hand of a slender fawn,

Who sings more sweetly than a lover’s sigh.

Sweet of melody, surpassing the lover's desire.

مُتَعَقرِبِ الصُدغَينِ في لَحَظاتِهِ

فِتَنٌ لَها مَقرونَةٌ لِبَواثِقِ

The amorous glance of his dark eyes

With side-locks curled like scorpions; in his glances

Seduces, luring men to forbidden sips.

Lie temptations linked to sharp calamities.

مُتَخَرسِنٍ دينُ النَصارى دينُهُ

ذي قُرطُقٍ لَم يَتَّصِل بِبَنائِقِ

Though a Christian, the faith of Christians is not his faith,

Adorned with an earring, the faith of the Christians is his faith,

An infidel, he never sought baptismal waters.

Clad in a tunic fitted tight without gussets.

لَبِقٍ بَديعِ الحُسنِ لَو كَلَّمتَهُ

لَنَبَذتَ دينَكَ كُلَّهُ مِن حالِقِ

A beauty, elegant in form - if you spoke to him

Refined, of marvelous beauty—if you were to speak to him,

You would renounce your faith entirely in an instant.

You would cast your entire religion down from a precipice.

وَاللَهِ لَولا أَنَّني مُتَخَوِّفٌ

أَن أُبتَلى بِإِمامِ جَورٍ فاسِقِ

By God! Were it not for the fear

By God, were it not that I fear

That I would fall to an unjust and profligate ruler,

Being tested by a tyrannical, corrupt ruler,

لَتَبِعتُهُ في دينِهِ وَدَخَلتُهُ

بِبَصيرَةٍ فيهِ دُخولَ الوامِقِ

I would adopt his religion and enter it

I would have followed him in his faith and entered it,

With clear-sighted discernment like a diving falcon.

With clear insight, entering as a lover enters.

إِنّي لَأَعلَمُ أَنَّ رَبّي لَم يَكُن

لِيَخُصَّهُ إِلّا بِدينٍ صادِقِ

I know well my Lord singled out no creed

For I know well that my Lord would not

Other than the true faith as worthy and sincere.

Single him out for such beauty unless his religion were true.