لا تَعُد لي كَليلَةٍ بِالجَمادِ

بِتُّها خائِفاً عَلى أَسهادي

Do not promise me an easy night while I sleep

Frightened for my pillows.

أَرهَبُ السَيفَ إِن وَرَدتُ عَلى الحَي

يِ وَأَطوي الهُمومَ وَالقَلبُ صادِ

I fear the sword if I encounter the enemy,

And I fold up worries and a hurting heart.

ضَيعَةُ النَفسِ وَاِدِّلاجٌ عَلى القَص

دِ وَما خَيرُ مُدلِجٍ غَيرِ هادِ

A wasting soul and leaning on purpose,

And what good leaner but a guide?

وَلَقَد أَصرِفُ الفُؤادَ عَنِ الشَي

ءِ حَياءً وَحُبُّهُ في السَوادِ

And I had turned my heart from the thing

Out of shyness while its love is in blackness.

أَمسِكُ النَفسَ بِالعَفافِ وَأُمسي

ذاكِراً في غَدٍ حَديثَ الأَعادي

I hold back the soul with chastity and I spend the night

Remembering the talk of enemies in the morning.

ذاكَ إِذ لا تَزالُ حُبّى مِنَ البَغ

يِ خَيالاً يَزورُني في الرُقادِ

That is when my love of the rebel

Is still an imagination that visits me in slumber.

ثُمَّ قَد قَصَّرَت وَما قَصَّرَ الحُب

بُ كَأَنّي جَعَلتُهُ مِن تِلادي

Then it fell short, and love does not fall short,

As if I made it part of my lineage.

لِثَقالِ الأَعجازِ تَمشي الهُوَينى

مِثلَ غُصنِ الرَيحانَةِ المَيّادِ

Because legs are heavy, lovers walk

Like a swaying branch of basil.

ضَحِكَت لي عَن بارِدِ الطَعمِ عَذبٍ

مُستَنيرٍ كَالكَوكَبِ الوَقّادِ

She laughed at me with cool but sweet water,

Radiant like a flaming star.

ثُمَّ راقَت بِاللَونِ وَالعَينِ حَتّى

كادَ حُبّي يَطيرُ بي عَن وِسادي

Then she was pleasant in color and eye until

My love almost flew with me from my pillow.

هِيَ بَدرُ السَماءِ لا بَل هِيَ الشَم

سُ تَدَلَّت في مُذهَبٍ وَجِسادِ

She is the full moon of the sky, no, she is the sun

Lowered in a sunset and bodies.

لا أَسُرُّ الحُسّادَ فيها وَتُمسي

نَدبَةً في مَسَرَّةِ الحُسّادِ

I do not make the enviers happy in her, and she spends the night

A wailing in the joy of the enviers.

تَترُكُ القُربَ ثُمَّ تُعقِبُ بِالبُع

دِ فَوَيلي مِن قُربِها وَالبِعادِ

She leaves intimacy, then follows with distance,

So woe to me from her nearness and farness.

وَجَوادٌ في النَومِ يُعطينِيَ النَف

سَ وَلَيسَت يَقظى لَنا بِجَوادِ

A generous one in sleep gives me the soul

But awake there is no generosity for us.

تُحسِنُ المَشيَ في المَنامِ وَلا تُح

سِنُ يَقظى مَشيَ المُريبِ المُصادي

She walks well in dreams but does not

Walk well awake the walk of the dubious deviator.

فَاِعذِريني يا أُمَّ بَكرٍ فَإِنَّ الُ

حُبَّ في مَنطِقي وَعَينَيَّ بادِ

So forgive me, O mother of Bakr, for love

In my speech and my eyes has flourished.

لَيسَ يَخفى طَرفُ المُحِبِّ وَلا كَس

رَةُ عَينِ العَدُوِّ عَندَ اِعتِيادِ

The glance of a lover does not escape notice

Nor the frown of an enemy’s eye in habit.

حَشرُ عَينٍ يَلقى البَغيضَ وَلا يَل

قى مُحِبّاً عَينانِ دونَ اِزدِيادِ

A meeting of an eye with a hated one without meeting

A lover - two eyes without increase.

وَلَقَد قُلتُ إِذ جُفيتُ وَلَم أَج

فُ وَكانَت بَلِيَّتي مِن وِدادي

And I said when I was spurned and did not spurn

And my affliction was from affection:

لَيتَ حَظّي مِنَ العِبادِ وَمِمّا

خَلَقَ اللَهُ لَذَّةً لِلعِبادِ

Would that my fortune were from servants and from

What Allah created as pleasures for servants!

ريقُ حُبّى أَحسوهُ سَبعَةَ أَيّا

مٍ شِفاءً لِقُرحَةٍ بِالفُؤادِ

The path of my love, I feel it is seven days

A cure for a wound in the heart.

إِنَّها مُنيَتي وَحاجَتِيَ الكُب

رى وَنَفسي لَو مَتَّعَتني بِزادِ

It is my death and my great need,

And my soul if it provided me with provision.

أَشتَهي قُربَها عَلى العُسرِ وَاليُس

رِ وَعِندَ الضِيا وَيَومَ التَنادي

I desire her nearness in ease and hardship,

In light and on the day of calling.

قُل لَها يا فَريرُ إِنّي مِنَ الشَو

قِ إِلَيها وَحِدَّتي في جِهادِ

Say to her, O chirping one, I am

Of longing for her and my uniqueness is in strife.

كَيفَ صَبري فَرداً عَلى غَيرِ نَيلٍ

طالَ هَذا بُخلاً وَطالَ اِنفِرادي

How is my patience alone without attaining?

This has been long in stinginess and loneliness.