أَذكيت حَر الجَوى وَاللَيل قَد بَرَدا

يا بارِقاً حَرك الأَشواق ثُم هَدا

I kindled the heat of fervor, and the night had cooled,

O you who stirred up passions, then calmed!

أَضرمت نار اِشتياق لَم تَكُن خَمَدَت

فَاِنهل وَاكف دَمع لَم يَكُن جمدا

I lit a fire of yearning that had not been extinguished,

So draw water and restrain tears that were not frozen.

يا حاكم الحُب لا زالَت أَوامِرَهُ

في الناس نافِذَةً إِن جارَ أَو قَصَدا

O ruler of love - your commands

Are still carried out among people, whether he intends or aims.

هَل في شَريعتَك الغَرّاء يا حكمي

إِن لا أَزال جَليس الهَم مُنفَرِدا

Is it in your noble law, O my wise one,

That I do not cease to be the companion of cares, alone?

أَم في الهَوى إِنَّ مِن عفت سَرائِرَهُ

يَجفي وَإِن لا يُلاقي لِلجَفا أَمَدا

Or is it in passion - that he who guards its mysteries

Would dry up, even if he does not find dryness lasting?

إِن جازَ هَذا فَهَل في الحُب سَفك دَمي

بِغَير ذَنب وَلا عَقل وَلا قودا

If this is allowed, then in love, is my blood shed

Without sin, reason, or punishment?

وَهَبَت روحي لِمَن أَمسى يُعذِبُها

وَجانب البُخل مَن أَعطى الحَمام يَدا

And my soul was granted to one who makes it suffer at night,

And deprives of stinginess one who gave his hand to the doves.

أعلم فَديتك يا مَن صَد عَن دَنف

لا يَعرف الدَهر إِلّا الحُزن وَالكَمدا

I know, my ransom is you, O you who turned away from pleasure,

Who knows nothing of fate but sadness and frowning.

إِذا تَنَعمت إِني مِنكَ في كَرب

وَحينَ تَرقُد إِن الصَب ما هَجَدا

When you feel comfort, I am in distress because of you,

And when you sleep, wakefulness has not calmed.

بَراهُ صَدّك حَتّى قالَ عوَّدهُ

إِذا لَم يَدَع مِنهُ فَرط السُقم غَير صَدا

Abstinence made him get used to it, until he said

“If the excess illness did not spare him anything but avoidance.”

أَنّا لَنسمع مِن تِلقاءِ مَضجَعِهِ

أَنين صَبٍّ وَلَكن لا نَرى أَحَدا

We hear from his bedside

The moaning of one who yearns, but we see no one.

مَلّ الحَياة وَملتهُ عَوائِدُهُ

فَلَو يُباح لَهُ وَرد الرَدى وَردا

He is tired of life and its habits tire him,

If only he were allowed to return to destruction and return.

أَرى الهَوى واحِداً في نَفسِهِ وَأَرى

طَرائق الحَتف في سُبل الهَوى قَددا

I see love as one in itself and I see

The ways of destiny on the paths of passion as many.

بَليت في حُب مِن حَبيبهِ برّح بي

بِغيرة لَم تَدَع لي في الهَوى جَلدا

I have been tested in the love of one whose lover was hard on me

With jealousy that did not leave me any composure in love.

أَجفو الرقاد وَقَد نامَ الوَرى جَزَعاً

من أَن يَرى طَيفُهُ في النَوم مَن رَقَدا

I resisted sleep while creation slept in panic

That one who slept might see his phantom in a dream.

لا بَل أَغارَ عَلَيهِ إِن تمثلهُ ال

أَفكار أَو تَتَمناهُ وَإِن بَعدا

But no - he was jealous of him if fantasies represent him

Or if thoughts wish for him even if he is far away.

بَل ما رَأَيت عُيون الناس ترمقهُ

إِلّا تَمنيت إِني لَم أَكُن أَبَدا

But I have not seen people's eyes glance at him

Without wishing I had never existed.

قَد تيم الظَبي مِنهُ سحر مُقلَتِهِ

فَهامَ في حُبِهِ مِن حَر ما وَجَدا

The gazelle was infatuated with the magic of his glances,

So it loved him passionately from the heat it found.

وَمُنذُ أَبصَرَ وَرد الرَوض وَجنَتُهُ

بَدا الذُبول عَلى أَوراقِهِ حَسَدا

And since the garden’s rose saw his cheek,

Withering appeared on its petals out of envy.

لَم يَذكُروا عِندَ خوط البان قامَتُهُ

إِلّا وَمالَ مِن الأَشواق أَو سَجَدا

They did not mention his stature by the lines of separation

Without him leaning by yearning or bowing down in prostration.

يا فِتنَة أَلحاظك المرضى عَلى كَبدي

فَفتقت كَبدي الحَرّا فَواكبدا

O temptation - your ailing glances tore my liver,

So they ripped my hot liver, so endure!

قَد ضاقَ قَلبيَ بِالوَجد المُذيبِ لَهُ

فَلو أَرادَ مَزيداً مِنهُ ما وَجَدا

My heart was too narrow for the melting fervor within it,

So if he wanted more of it, he would not have found any.

لَو إِن ما بي بِماءِ المَزن لانعَقَدا

أَو بِالهَواءِ وَلَو معشاره اِتَقَدا

If I was made of rain water I would have solidified,

Or by air - even if a bit of me had ignited!

أَو كانَ شَوقي بِأَهل الكَهف ما رَقَدوا

وَما رَأَوا فيهِ إِلّا الفكر وَالسُهدا

Or if my passion was with the People of the Cave, they would not have slept

And they would not have seen in it anything but thinking and keeping still.

استنجد الصَبر وَالأَشواقُ تَهزمهُ

وَأَمترى مَدمَعي وَالدَمعُ قَد نَفَدا

Fervor sought help from patience but defeats it

And do I see my tears, while tears are all gone?

مِن العَليل قَضى ظُلماً بِعِلَتِهِ

وَحَرُّ أَشواقِهِ الوَقّاد ما بَرَدا

The suffering one unjustly died of his illness

And the burning heat of his passion did not cool down.