أَخا الريم ما هَذي العُيون القَواتِلُ

بَقيت لِتفنينا وَهَذي الشَمائِلُ

O brother of rain, what are these deadly eyes,

That remain to destroy us, and these perfect features,

فَماء حَياة ما تَحوز مَراشف

وَرَوضة حُسن ما تَضُم الغَلائِلُ

The water of life hoards no pillows,

And the garden of beauty holds no branches.

وَتَخجَل أَغصان الرُبى أَن تَمايَلَت

قَضيب لجين بَين بُرديك مائِلُ

The boughs of lote-trees are too shy to sway

As a supple branch between your sleeves is tilted.

وَلَو أَنَّ في بَدر الدُجى مِنكَ لَمحة

لَما شانَهُ نَقص وَلا قيلَ آفلُ

Had the full moon glimpsed a flash of you,

It would not have waned or been called a crescent.

تَروح بِكَ الأَلباب نَهبى كَأَنَّها

قَبائل تَسبيها بِبَدر قَبائِلُ

You plunder hearts and minds as if they are

Tribes captured by the full moon capturing crescents.

كَثيرٌ مِن الأَرواح أَنتَ حَياتُها

وَإِن هِيَ راحَت في هَواكَ قَلائِلُ

You are the life of many souls,

Though few find peace in your love.

أَبيت بِحال لَيسَ يَعلَمُها سِوى

فُؤاد شَجيٍّ لِلنُجوم يشاكلُ

I remain in a state known only to

A heart rent asunder, matching the stars.

يُجرد لي مِن جفنِهِ اللَيل صارِماً

أَسميهِ صُبحاً وَهُوَ بِالفكر جائِلُ

The night strips slumber from my eyes like a blade,

And though it’s dark, my thoughts call it dawn.

وَجِسمي لِضيفان السقام مَوائِدٌ

وَدَمعي لِزوّار الغَرام مَناهِلُ

My body is a banquet hall for sickness and disease,

My tears, springs for the caravan of passion.

وَلَستُ عَلى رَسم الطُلول بِنادِبٍ

وَلا سائل عَن ذاهب هُوَ زائِلُ

I do not mourn the loss of a lover or question

One departed, he who is bound to leave.

وَلَكِنَّني أَبكي المَعالي وَأَهلَها

فَهَذا الَّذي أَهوى وَهَذي المَنازِلُ

Rather, I weep for the noble and their abodes,

For these are what I love, these are my homes.

وَلَيسَ يَليقُ المَدح إِلّا بِأَهلِهِ

وَإِن كَثُرَت قَصدٌ وَطالَت رَسائِلُ

Praise suits only the worthy,

Though many may court it and send missives.

إِلَيكَ أَتَت تَسعى مَطايا مَآربي

وَهُنَّ لِعُمري عَن سِواكِ جَوافِلُ

My ambitions came to you astride steeds

While they, by my life, loathe all but you.

وَجاءَتكَ عَطشى تَرتَجيك لِعلمِها

بَأَنك بَحرٌ وَالبُحور جَداوِلُ

Thirsty, they came to you knowing

You are an ocean, and oceans, streams.