أَروي لَكُمعَن شاعِرٍ ساحيرٍ

حِكايَةً يُحمَدُ راويها

I will recount for you, from a spellbinding poet,

I relate to you, from an enchanting poet,

A tale, praised be its narrator.

A tale whose narrator is worthy of praise.

قالَ دَعا أَصحابُهُ سَيِّدٌ

في لَيلَةٍ رَقَّت حَواشيها

A lord called his companions one night,

He said: A nobleman invited his companions,

Its edges softened by the moon’s light.

On a night whose edges were soft and gentle,

فَاِنتَظَمَت في قَصرِهِ عُصبَةٌ

كَريمَةٌ لا واغِلٌ فيها

In his palace gathered a group,

And there gathered within his palace a company,

Noble, no grudges held among the troop-

A noble group, with no intruder amongst them,

مِن نُبَلاءِ الشَعبِ ساداتُها

وَخيرَةِ الغيدِ غَوانيها

The people’s finest lords and ladies,

Its lords were the nobility of the people,

And the tribe’s most precious beauties-

And its ladies were the choicest of beauties,

حَتّى إِذا ما جَلَسوا كُلُّهُم

وَطافَ بِالأَكوابِ ساقيها

Until seated were they, one and all,

Until, when they were all seated,

As the cupbearer began his call.

And their cupbearer circulated with the goblets,

قامَ أَميرُ القَصرِ في كَفِّهِ

كَأسٌ أَعارَنَهُ مَعانيها

The lord of the house rose, cup in his grasp,

The lord of the palace rose, holding in his palm

Lent meaning by the wine it did clasp.

A cup to which he lent its profound meanings,

وَقالَ يا صَحبُ عَلى ذِكرُكُم

أَملَءُها حُبّاً وَأَحسوها

“O friends,” said he, “remembering you

And he said: 'O friends, to your memory,

Fills it with love -drink deep, and do!”

I fill it with love and drink it deep,

وَذِكرِ مَن قَبِيَ عَبدٌ لَها

وَمُهجَتي إِحدى جَواريها

“And remember a slave whose love was true,

And to the memory of her to whom my heart is a slave,

And my heart, one of her handmaidens too-

And whose handmaiden is my very soul,

حَبيبَتي لَمياءُ سَمَّيتُها

وَلَم أَكُن قَبلاً أُسَمّيها

My beloved Lamiya, I named her so,

My beloved, Lamyaa, I have named her,

Never before had I named her, though,

Though I was not wont to name her before,'

فَشَرِبوا كُلُّهُمُ سِرَّها

وَهَتَفوا كُلُّهُمُ تيها

Drink up, all, her secret hiding,

So they all drank to her secret,

Cry out, all, your thirst abiding!”

And they all cried out in admiration,

فَأَجزِلِ الشُكرَ لِأَصحابِهِ

الشُكرُ لِلنِعمَةِ يُبقيها

“Thank her guests abundantly,

He offered abundant thanks to his companions—

Gratitude makes blessings stay.

For gratitude preserves a blessing—

وَصاحَ بِالساقي عَلَينا بِها

فَطافَ بِالأَكوابِ ساقيها

Call the cupbearer, let him us attend!”

And he called to the cupbearer: 'Bring it to us again!'

All drank as the pourer did descend.

So their cupbearer circulated with the goblets,

وَقالَ لِلأَضيافِ سَمعاً فَلي

كِلمَةٌ العَدلُ يُمليها

“Listen, friends, justice makes me say:

And he said to the guests: 'Hear me, for I have

I’m not alone in loving today-

A word that justice itself dictates:

ما أَنا وَحدي الصَبُّ فيكُم وَلا

كُلُّ العَذارى مَن أُناجيها

Nor do I alone pine and sigh

'I am not the only one among you struck by love, nor

For a maiden I court and glorify.

Is she whom I court the only maiden,'

فَكُلُّ نَفسٍ مِثلُ نَفسي لَها

في هَذِهِ الدُنيا أَمانيها

Each soul like mine has its dreams come true,

'For every soul, like mine, possesses

Each heart hopes for a love so true.

Its own desires in this world,

وَكُلُّ قَلبٍ مِثلُ قَلبي لَهُ

حَسناءَ تَرجوهُ وَيَرجوها

My friends, speak now of your passions boiling,

And every heart, like mine, holds

Reveal the names your hearts are roiling!”

A beauty who yearns for him as he yearns for her,

يا صَحبُ مَن كانَت بِهِ صَبوَةٌ

يُعلِنُها الآنَ وَيُبديها

Again they rose, each and every one,

'O friends, whoever harbors a passion,

Raising their cups in unison-

Let him declare it now and reveal it!'

فَنَهَضوا ثانِيَةً كُلُّهُم

وَرَفَعوا الكاساتِ تَنويها

Drinking the secret of she

So they all rose a second time,

Who stirs them to love’s ecstasy.

And raised their glasses in tribute,

كُلُّهُم يَشرَبُ سِرَّ الَّتي

يَهوى مِنَ الغيدِ وَيُطرِبُها

One dashing lad did not comply,

Each drinking to the secret of the one

His looks made watchers swoon and sigh.

He loves among the beauties, delighting in her,

وَكانَ في الشَربِ فَتىً باسِلٌ

طَلعَتُهُ تُسحِرُ رائيها

He joined the first round of their imbibing,

And among the drinkers was a gallant youth,

But not the second, slyly grinning.

Whose countenance enchanted the beholder,

شارَكَ في أَوَّلِ أَقداحِمِ

وَلَم يُشارِكهُم بِثانيها

“And you?” his friends jeered and scoffed,

He partook in their first round of cups,

“Have you no darling we can toast?”

But did not join them in the second,

وَأَنتَ قالَ الصَحبُ وَاِستَضحَكوا

هَل لَكَ حَسناءٌ نُحَيِّها

“Yes,” said he, “I drink to my heart’s devotion,

'And what of you?' the friends asked, laughing,

Who my soul saves, for her I’d die in ocean.

'Have you no beauty for us to toast?'

قالَ أَجَل أَشرَبُ سِرَّ الَّتي

بِالروحِ تَفديني وَأَفديها

Her image in my heart engraved lies,

He said: 'Yes, I drink to the secret of she who

Naught, not even death, can it disguise.

Ransoms me with her soul, as I ransom her,

صورَتُها في القَلبِ مَطبوعَةٌ

لا شَيءَ حَتّى المَوتِ يَمحوها

Don’t doubt my sincerity, or suppose

Her image is imprinted within my heart,

I dissemble love under guile’s gloze.

Nothing, not even death, can erase it,

لا تَتَرَضّاني رِياءً وَلا

تَلثُمُني كَذِباً وَتَمويها

Wealth disappears and youthfulness fades,

She does not seek my favor out of pretense, nor

But my love and hers forever remains.

Does she kiss me with deceit or disguise,

يَضيعُ مالي وَيَزولُ الصِبى

وَحُبُّها باقٍ وَحُبّيها

She gave me her soul completely and plain,

My wealth may perish and my youth may fade,

Not fearing I’d sacrifice it in vain.

Yet her love—and my love for her—remains,

قَد وَهَبَتني روحَها كُلُّها

وَلَم تَخَف أَنّي أُضَحّيها

The secret love you drink to, my friends,

She has gifted me her entire soul,

However passionately professed or pends,

Without fearing that I might sacrifice her,

سِرَّ الَّتي لا غادَةٌ بَينَكُم

مَهما سَمَت في الحُبِّ تَحكيها

Is not like mine, matchless and peerless,

To the secret of she whom no maiden among you,

No equal in ardor, beyond all measure.”

However high she soars in love, can resemble.'

فَأَجفَلوا مِنهُ كَمِن حَيَّةٍ

نَهاشَةٍ قَد عَزَّ راقيها

They recoiled, as if bitten by snakes,

They recoiled from him as if from a serpent,

Their banquet’s joy his speech forsakes.

A biting viper whose charmer cannot be found,

وَقالَتِ الغاداتُ أُفٍّ لَهُ

قَد شَوَّهَ المَجلِسَ تَشويها

The ladies hissed “Shame!” and “Disgrace!

And the ladies cried: 'Fie upon him!

He has ruined the gathering’s grace!”

He has utterly ruined the gathering!'

لَو ظَلَّ فيما بَينَنا صامِتاً

لَم تَسمَعِ الآذانُ مَكروها

“If only he’d held his tongue in our midst,

Had he remained silent amongst us,

No ears would have heard his words unmissed.”

Our ears would not have heard such offense,

وَقَلقَلَ الفِتيانُ أَسيافَهُم

فَأَوشَكَت تَبدو حَواشيها

The youths grasped their blades in that house

The young men rattled their swords,

Anger flashed in eyes once mellow and doused.

And their blades nearly came into view,

وَتَعتَعَ الشادي بِأَلحانِهِ

وَماجَتِ الدارُ بِمَن فيها

The singer strummed his melodies no more,

The singer faltered in his melodies,

The mansion churned with those troubles bore.

And the hall surged with those within,

وَقالَ قَومٌ خَبَلَتهُ الطِلا

وَقالَ قَومٌ صارَ مَعتوها

Some said “He is mad”, some said “Possessed!”

Some said: 'The wine has addled his wits,'

The host cried “Sir, pray, calm our unrest!

And others: 'He has become a madman!'

فَصاحَ رَبُّ الدارِ يا سَيِّدي

وَصَفتَها لِم لا تُسَمّيها

You described her yet did not name your fair maid,

Then the host cried out: 'O sir,

Too shy to share passions displayed?”

You have described her, why do you not name her?

أَتَخجَلُ بِاِسمِ مَنتَهوى

أَحَسناءٌ بِغَيرِ اِسمِ

The youth bowed his head, speaking no more,

Are you ashamed of the name of the one you love?

Murmuring only: “Ummi, my core.”

Is she a beauty who bears no name?'

فَأَطرَقَ غَيرُ مُكتَرِثٍ

وَتَمتَم خاشِعاً أُمّي

So he bowed his head, unconcerned,

And murmured with reverence: 'My mother.'