بِكُلِّ طَريقٍ لي مِنَ الحُبِّ راصِدٌ

بِكَفَّيهِ سَيفٌ لِلهَوى وَسِنانُ

With love's ambush at every path for me

On every path, a watcher from Love lies in wait,

His two hands sword and fangs for passion's fight

Holding within his hands Passion's sword and spear.

فَما لِيَ عَنهُ مِن مَفَرٍّ وَإِنَّني

لَأَجبُنَ عَنهُ وَالمُحِبُّ جَبانُ

No escape for me from it though indeed

I have no place to flee, no refuge from him,

I cower from it for the lover is a coward wight

I cower before him, for the lover is a coward.

فَقَد صِرتُ بَينَ البابِ وَالدارِ لَيسَ لي

خَلاصٌ وَلا لي إِن خَرَجتُ أَمانُ

Between the door and house I've come to be

I have become trapped between the door and the dwelling,

No safety, nor security if I take flight

With no deliverance there, nor safety should I leave.