آهٍ مِنَ الحُبِّ كُلُّهُ عِبَرُ

عِندِيَ مِنهُ الدُموع وَالسَهَرُ

Oh, how all love brings but sorrow!

Ah, the plight of love! It is entirely a lesson in anguish,

My tears and sleepless nights attest.

My share of it is nothing but flowing tears and sleeplessness.

وَوَيحَ صَرعى الغَرامِ إِنَّهُمُ

مَوتى وَما كُفِّنوا وَلا قُبِروا

Woe to those felled by passion—truly,

And woe unto the victims of passion, for truly they are

They are the dead, though unwakeful and unburied.

The living dead, who have neither been shrouded nor buried.

يَمشونَ في الأَرضِ لَيسَ يَأخُذُهُم

زَهو وَلا في خُدودِهِم صَعَرُ

They walk the earth, vanity beyond them,

They walk upon the earth, possessed by neither

No trace of joy upon their cheeks.

Vanity, nor is there any trace of arrogance upon their faces.

لَو وَلَجَ الناسُ في سَرائِرِهِم

هانَت وَرَبّي عَلَيهِم سَقَرُ

If people could see their inner secrets,

If people could but peer into the secrets of their souls,

Hellfire and Saqar would seem light!

By my Lord, the fires of Hell would seem trivial in comparison.

ما خَفَروا ذِمَّة وَلا نَكَثوا

عَهدا وَلا مَلَأو وَلا غَدَروا

They broke no oath, no vow,

They have never betrayed a trust, nor have they broken

Committed neither wrong nor treachery.

A solemn vow; they did not grow weary, nor turn treacherous.

قَد حَمَلوا الهونَ غَيرَ ما سَأَمٍ

لَولا الهَوى لِلهَوانِ ما صَبَروا

They have borne disgrace—but were it not for love,

They bore the humiliation of love without a hint of fatigue;

They'd not have borne such deep humiliation.

Were it not for passion, they would never have endured such abasement.

لَم يُبقِ مِنّي الضَنى سِوى شَبَحٍ

يَكادُ لَولا الرَجاءُ يَندَثِرُ

Naught remains in me but some shadow

Emaciation has left nothing of me but a specter,

Which, but for hope, would also fade.

Which, were it not for hope, would nearly fade into oblivion.

أُمسي وِسادي مُشابِهاً كَبِدي

كِلاهُما النارُ فيهِ تَستَعِرُ

My pillow is like my burning liver—

I pass the night with my pillow resembling my burning liver;

Both aflame from inner fires searing through.

For within them both, a fierce fire is raging.

أَكُلُّ صَبٍّ يا لَيلُ مَضجَعُهُ

مِثلِيَ فيهِ القَتاد وَالإِبَرُ

Each dawn my bedfellow resembles me—

O Night, is the bedding of every lovesick soul,

In it, arrows and needles lie.

Like mine, stuffed with thorns and stinging needles?

لَعَلَّ طَيفاً مِن هِندَ يَطرُقُني

فَعِندَ هِندٍ عَن شِقوَتي خَبَرُ

Perhaps some echo from India will reach me,

Perchance a phantom of Hind might visit me in sleep,

For news of my agony has spread far.

For Hind surely holds knowledge of my wretched state.

ما بالُ هِندٍ عَلَيَّ غاضِبَةً

ما شابَ فودي وَلَيسَ بي كِبَرُ

Why is India angry with me?

What ails Hind, that she is so wrathful towards me?

My cheek is still soft; old age has not yet come.

My temples have not turned gray, nor has old age claimed me.

ما زِلتُ غَضَّ الشَبابِ لا وَهَنٌ

يا هِندُ في عَزمَتي وَلا خُوَرُ

I am still lithe and slender, my will unchanged.

I remain in the fresh bloom of youth; there is no frailty

India, no weakness or frailty is in me!

O Hind, in my resolve, nor any feebleness of spirit.

لا دَرَّ دَرُّ الوُشاةِ قَد حَلَفوا

أَن يُفسِدوا بَينَنا وَقَد قَدَروا

No! The spite of slanderers who have sworn

May the slanderers be curst! They have sworn an oath

To breed discord between us, and ruin what we share.

To sow discord between us, and alas, they have succeeded.

واهاً لِأَيّامِنا أَراجِعَةٌ

فَاِنَّهُنَّ الحُجول وَالغُرَرُ

Woe to the days we knew, now lost,

Oh, how I pine for our past days! Shall they ever return?

Those tender, trusting days of yore!

For they were the radiant stars and the shining glories of time.

أَيّامَ لا الدَهرُ قابِضٌ يَدَهُ

عَنّي وَلا هِندُ قَلبُها حَجَرُ

Days when time's hand was not clasped round me

Days when Fate did not withhold its generous hand from me,

Nor India's heart blocked against me.

And the heart of Hind had not yet turned to stone.

لَم أَنسَ لَيلاً سَهرَتَهُ مَعَها

تَحنو عَلَينا الأَفنان وَالشَجَرُ

I remember no night with her I did not stay up

I have never forgotten a night I spent awake in her company,

As the branches gently stirred o’er our heads.

While the boughs and the trees bent tenderly over us.

غَفَرتُ ذَنبَ النَوى بِزَورَتِها

ذَنبُ النَوى بَِلِّقاءِ يُغتَفَرُ

I forgave the fault of our tryst for her visit—

I forgave the sin of separation thanks to her visit;

When lovers meet, all sins are forgiven!

For the sin of distance is pardoned by the joy of meeting.

بِتنا عَنِ الراصِدينَ يَكتُمُنا

الأَسوَدانِ الظَلم وَالشَعَرُ

We hid from the spies, veiled by darkness and my hair.

We passed the night hidden from the prying eyes of spies,

Three who never slept—I, the moon, and the Pleiades.

Concealed by the twin darknesses: the night and her flowing hair.

ثَلاثَةٌ لِلسُرورِ ما رَقَدوا

أَنا وَأُختُ المَهاة وَالقَمَرُ

So why do these stars glare down so balefully

Three there were who kept vigil for the sake of joy:

As if portending doom upon us?

Myself, the sister of the wild doe, and the moon.

فَما لِهَذي النُجومِ ساهِيَةً

تَرنو إِلَينا كَأَنَّها نُذُرُ

If our flushed faces at dawn offended them,

Why do these stars gaze down so absent-mindedly,

Know that the blackest night hides our love!

Watching over us as though they were ominous warnings?

إِن كانَ صُبحُ الجَبينِ رَوَّعَها

فَإِنَّ لَيلَ الشُعورِ مُعتَكِرُ

Or if our whispered endearments enraged them,

If the morning light of her forehead has startled them,

Then surely scattered petals can make amends!

Then the deep night of her hair remains dark and murky.

أَوِ اِنتِظامُ العُقودِ أَغضَبَها

فَإِنَّ دُرَّ الكَلامِ مُنتَثِرُ

Why do those branches bend down in sorrow

Or if the orderly beauty of her necklace has angered them,

As if to shorten the distance between us?

Then know that the pearls of her speech are scattered freely.

وَما لِتِلكَ الغُصونِ مُطرِقَةً

كَأَنَّها لِلسَلمِ تَختَصِرُ

They weep as though their bloom were too heavy to bear,

And why do those branches bow their heads so low,

Yet their tears only water the fruits they bear!

As if they were humbling themselves in a silent prayer?

تَبكي كَأَنَّ الزَمانَ أَرهَقَها

عُسرا وَلَكِن دُموعُها الثَمَرُ

Now they sway close along the earth, now they climb

They weep as if Time has burdened them with

Up again to dance freely in the open sky.

Hardship, yet those tears are nothing but the ripening fruit.

طَوراً عَلى الأَرضِ تَنثَني مَرَحاً

وَتارَةً في الفَضاءِ تَشتَجِرُ

When India saw them, she started in fright—

At times they sway towards the earth in playfulness,

Such omens make blood run cold in the veins!

And at other times they intertwine high in the air.

فَأَجفَلَت هِندُ عِندَ رُؤيَتِها

وَقَد تَروعُ الجَآذِرَ الصُوَرُ

Lithe and graceful, if they did not bend so,

Hind started in fear when she saw them moving,

I'd fear they would snap when the wind blows through.

For fleeting shadows often frighten the young gazelles.

هَيفاءُ لَو لَم تَلِن مَعاطِفُها

عِندَ التَثَنّي خَشّيتُ تَنكَسِرُ

Matchless is she, no other compares.

A slender beauty; were her sides not so soft and yielding,

Adorned not with trinkets but with dignity and poise.

I would fear she might break whenever she sways.

مِنَ اللَواتي وَلا شَبيهَ لَها

يَزينُهُنَّ الدَلال وَالخَفَرُ

Each limb, each feature reveals new facets

She is of those women—and she has no equal—

Of an ever-astonishing beauty.

Whom coquetry and modesty adorn to perfection.

في كُلِّ عُضو وَكُلِّ جارِحَةٍ

مَعنىً جَديدٌ لِلحُسنِ مُبتَكَرُ

The stars bloom like pearls on her breast.

In every limb and in every single feature,

If they adorned her throat, how they would shimmer!

There lies a new, original meaning of beauty.

تَبيتُ زُهرُ النُجومِ تامِعَةً

لَو أَنَّها فَوقَ نَحرِها دُرَرُ

Her melodious voice, just a whisper would captivate,

The brilliant stars pass the night in jealous longing,

Silencing the hushed night to hear it better.

Wishing they were pearls resting upon her throat.

رَخيمَةُ الصَوتِ إِن شَدَت لَفَتَت

لَها الدَراري وَأَنصَتَ السَحَرُ

I confide my torment while she is distracted—

Her voice is melodious; when she sings, she turns

Lost in thought, too lovesick to hear me.

The shining stars towards her, and the dawn itself listens.

أَبُثُّها الوَجد وَهيَ لاهِيَةٌ

أَذهَلَها الحُبُّ فَهيَ تَفتَكِرُ

Oh India, why do people rebuke us so

I pour out my passion to her while she is distracted;

When we've done no wrong and bear no guilt?

Love has stunned her, leaving her lost in deep thought.

يا هِندُ كَم ذا الأَنامُ تَعذُلُنا

وَما أَثِمنا وَلا بِنا وَزَرُ

India laughed and said pay them no mind—

O Hind, how often do the people rebuke us,

Let them rave if they want; they are only human!

Though we have committed no sin, nor do we bear any guilt.

فَاِبتَدَرَت هِند وَهيَ ضاحِكَةٌ

ماذا عَلَينا وَإِن هُمُ كَثُروا

I'd give my soul if only they understood,

Then Hind hastened to reply, laughing:

Felt this love like we do—they would not blame us!

'What does it matter to us, even if their numbers are great?'

فَدَتكَ نَفسي لَو أَنَّهُمُ عَقَلَوا

وَاِستَشعَروا الحُبَّ مِثلَنا عَذَروا

Only the ignorant deny love.

'May my soul be your ransom! If they possessed wisdom,'

Can the sighted deny the sun that they see?

'And felt love as we do, they would surely excuse us.'

ما جَحِدَ الحُبَّ غَيرَ جاهِلِهِ

أَيَجحَدُ الشَمسَ مَن لَهُ بَصَرُ

Leave them be, though they rant, though they rave.

'None denies the truth of love but the ignorant;'

Do not blame them; they know not what they do!

'Does anyone with sight deny the existence of the sun?'

ذَرهُم وَإِن أَجلَبوا وَإِن صَخَبوا

وَلا تَلُمهُم فَما هُمُ بَشَرُ

Let us steal away, never tiring.

'Leave them be, even if they raise a clamor and shout,'

We have been silent; no need to defend ourselves!

'And do not blame them, for they are scarcely human.'

سِرنا الهُوَيناءَ ما بِنا تَعَبٌ

وَقَد سَكَتنا وَما بِنا حَصَرُ

But we drank too deeply of loving's wine,

We walked on leisurely, feeling no fatigue,

And we kissed, just as all lovers do in their revels!

And we fell silent, though not for lack of words.

لَكِنَّ فَرطَ الهِيامِ أَسكَرَنا

وَقَبلَنا العاشِقونَ كَم سَكَروا

So say to those who accuse us so freely:

But the overwhelming intensity of passion intoxicated us,

It was but whispers and glances, no more!

And how many lovers before us have been thus intoxicated!

فَقُل لِمَن يُكثِرُ الظُنونَ بِنا

ما كانَ إِلّا الحَديث وَالنَظَرُ

The stars set; how the night's heart seemed to crack!

So tell the one who casts so many suspicions upon us:

I bid her farewell, my own heart in tumult,

There was nothing between us but conversation and gazes.

حَتّى رَأَيتُ النُجومَ آفِلَةً

وَكادَ قَلبُ الظَلامِ يَنفَطِرُ

Barely stemming my tears as they started to pour.

Until I saw the stars beginning to set,

She bid me farewell, two teardrops descending

And the heart of the darkness was on the verge of breaking.

وَدَّعتُها وَالفُؤادُ مُضطَرِبٌ

أُكَفكِفُ الدمَع وَهوَ يَنهَمِرُ

To soak through her robe, glistening over the red coral beneath.

I bade her farewell with a heart trembling in turmoil,

How my weeping once made time itself laugh,

Trying to hold back tears that poured down like rain.

وَوَدَّعَتني وَمِن مَحاجِرِها

فَوقَ العَقيقِ الجُمانُ يَنحَدِرُ

As though parting were meaningless to it!

She bade me farewell, and from her eyes,

My nights before were tranquil, untroubled—

Pearls rolled down over cheeks red as carnelian.

قَد أَضحَكَ الدَهرَ ما بَكيتُ لَهُ

كَأَنَّما البَينُ عِندَهُ وَطَرُ

And now they have become naught but turmoil.

Fate laughed at that for which I wept,

When thoughts of her drain my tears fully,

As if our separation was its cherished goal.

كانَت لَيالِيَّ ما بِها كَدَرٌ

وَالآنَ أَمسَت وَكُلُّها كَدَرُ

The clouds fill in the gaps, weeping in my stead.

My nights were once free of all distress,

Perhaps the nights will recognize their crime

But now they have become entirely filled with sorrow.

إِن نَفِدَ الدَمعُ مِن تَذَكُّرِها

فَجادَها بَعدَ أَدمُعي المَطَرُ

Against the slain lover, and beg his pardon!

If my tears should run dry from remembering her,

May the rain clouds water her land after my tears are exhausted.

عَسى اللَيالِيَ تَدري جِنايَتَها

عَلى قَتيلِ الهَوى فَتَعتَذِرُ

Perhaps the nights will eventually realize their crime

Against this victim of love, and offer their apology.