رَضيتُ بِما أَفنَيتَ فارضَ بِما بَقى

وَما أَتَّقيكَ اليَومَ قَد كُنتُ أَتَّقي

I am content with what you have destroyed; be content with what remains.

Today I no longer guard myself against you, though once I did.

وَأَذكَيتَ أَشجاني فَهَل أَنتَ مُحرِقي

وَأَطلَقتَ أَجفاني فَهَل أَنتَ مُغرِقي

You have kindled my sorrows—are you, then, to burn me?

You have set my eyelids flowing—are you, then, to drown me?

بَذَلتُ لَهُ رِقىً فَهَل هُوَ ما لِكي

وَمَلَّكتُهُ قَلبي فَهَل هُوَ مُعتِقي

I yielded him my servitude—is he, then, my master?

I made him master of my heart—will he, then, set me free?

لَقَد ضَرَبوا ما بَينَ جَفنِيَ وَالكَرى

بِأَبعَدَ مِمّا بَينَ غَربٍ وَمَشرِقِ

They have truly set the distance between my eyelids and sleep

farther than the distance between West and East.

أَلا هَل أَتى الواشينَ أَنا عَلى النَوى

بِطَيفِ الكَرى أَو بِالأَمانِيِّ نَلتَقي

Ah, has word reached the tale-bearers that, though I am far away,

through sleep’s phantom—or through wishes—we meet?

وَلا ثَوبَ إِلّا مِن ظَلامٍ مُزَرَّرٍ

وَلا زادَ إِلّا مِن نُعاسِ مُرَتَّقِ

It has no robe but darkness, buttoned close,

and no provisions but drowsiness patched together;

يَخوضُ إِلَينا بَحرَ لَيلٍ وَلَم يَخُض

وَمِن تَحتِهِ بَدرُ المَحاقِ كَزَورَقِ

it wades toward us through a sea of night, yet has not waded it,

and beneath it is the dark moon’s full orb, like a skiff.