يا بَيتَ عاتِكَةَ الَّذي أَتعزَّلُ

حَذَرَ العِدى وَبِهِ الفُؤادِ مُؤَكَّلُ

O house of ʿAtika, from which I keep apart,

for fear of foes, though my heart is bound to it.

أَصبَحتُ أَمنَحُكَ الصُدودَ وَإِنَّني

قَسَماً إِلَيكَ مَعَ الصُدودِ لأَميَلُ

I have come to show you cold avoidance, although I—

I swear—incline toward you even as I turn away.

وَلَقَد نَزَلتَ مِنَ الفُؤادِ بِمَنزِلٍ

ما كانَ غَيرُكَ والأَمانَة يَنزِلُ

You have taken within my heart a dwelling place

where none but you and fidelity may dwell.

وَلَقَد شَكَوتُ إِلَيكَ بَعضَ صَبابَتي

وَلما كَتَمتُ مِن الصَبابَةِ أَطوَلُ

I have complained to you of some part of my longing,

but what I have concealed of that longing is more enduring.

فَصَددتُ عَنكَ وَما صَدَدتُ لِبغضَةٍ

أَخشَى مَقالَةَ كاشِحٍ لا يَعقِلُ

I turned away from you, but not from hatred;

I fear the words of a spiteful fool.

هَل عَيشُنا بِكَ في زَمانِكَ راجِعٌ

فَلَقَد تَقاعَسَ بَعدَكَ المُتَعَلِّلُ

Will the life we lived with you, in your time, return?

For since your loss, even one sustained by hope has shrunk back.

إِنّي إِذا قُلتُ استَقامَ يَحُطُّهُ

خُلفٌ كَما نَظَرَ الخِلافَ الأَقبَلُ

Whenever I say, “He has taken the straight path,” perfidy drives him on—

just as the cross-eyed one’s gaze runs contrary.

لَو بِالَّذي عالَجتُ لينَ فؤادِهِ

فَأَبى يَلينُ بِهِ لَلانَ الجَندَلُ

Had that with which I tried to soften his heart

been tried on stone—though his heart refused—the boulder would have softened.

وَتَجَنُّبي بَيتَ الحَبيبِ أَوَدُّهُ

أُرضي البَغيضَ بِهِ حَديثٌ مُعضِلُ

My keeping away from the beloved’s house, though I love it,

is to placate the hateful one thereby, for fear of a grave predicament.

وَلَئِن صَددتُ لأَنتَ لَولا رِقبَتي

أَهوى مِن اللائِي أَزورُ وَأَدخُلُ

Though I turn away, you—were it not for my fear of being watched—

are dearer to me than the women I visit and enter upon.

إِنَّ الشَبابَ وَعَيشَنا اللَذَّ الَّذي

كُنّا بِهِ زَمَناً نُسَرُّ وَنَجذَلُ

Truly, youth and that sweet life of ours, which

we lived awhile in happiness and exultation—

ذَهَبَت بَشاشَتُهُ وَأَصبَحَ ذِكرُهُ

حَزَناً يُعَلُّ بِهِ الفؤَادُ وَيُنهَلُ

its brightness has gone, and its remembrance has become

a sorrow with which the heart is plied and from which it drinks deeply.

إِلا تَذَكُّرَ ما مَضى وَصَبابَةً

مُنِيَت لِقَلبِ مُتَممٍ لا يذهَلُ

Nothing remains but remembrance of what has passed, and a yearning

allotted to an enamored heart that never forgets.

أَودى الشَبابُ وَأَخلَقَت لَذَّاتُهُ

وَأَنا الحَزينُ عَلى الشَبابِ المُعوِلُ

Youth has vanished, and its pleasures have worn away;

and I am the grieving one who wails for youth.