وَرَبَّتَ أَمريكِيَّةٍ خِلتُ وِدَّها

يَدوم وَلَكِن ما لِغانِيَةٍ وُدُّ

I loved an American girl, her affection lasted

Many an American woman whose affection I imagined

It remained, but not so for the Ghanaian girl

Would endure, yet a beauty possesses no constancy.

صَبَوتُ إِلى هِندٍ فَلَمّا رَأَيتُها

سَلَوتُ بِها هِندا وَما صَنَعَت هِندُ

I inclined to India, but when I saw her

I yearned for a Hind, but when I beheld her,

I found solace in her, though India did nothing

I forgot Hind through her, and all that Hind had wrought.

وَأَوحَت لَها عَينايَ أَنَّ صَبابَةً

تُلَجلِجُ في صَدري وَأَحذَرُ أَن تَبدو

My eyes revealed to her that a young man

My eyes signaled to her that a deep passion

Was stirred in my chest, though I feared revealing it

Was surging within my chest, though I feared to reveal it.

فَأَلقَت في تُرابِها وَتَبَسَّمَت

أَعيٌ سُكوتُ الصَبِّ أَم صَمتُهُ عَمدُ

She cast it to the ground and smiled

She cast her gaze to the dust and smiled, asking:

Is the silence of passion intentional or coincidental?

"Is the lover's silence born of speechlessness, or is his quiet deliberate?"

فَقُلتُ سَلامُ اللَهِ قالَت وَبِرُّهُ

فَقُلتُ أَهَزلٌ ذَلِكَ القَولُ أَم جَدُّ

I said, “Peace be upon you,” she said “And His blessings.”

I said, "God's peace be upon you," and she replied, "And His grace."

I said, “Is this jest or earnest?”

I asked, "Are those words spoken in jest, or in earnest?"

وَأَمسَكتُ أَنفاسي وَأَرهَفتُ بِسَمعي

فَفي نَفسي جَزر وَفي مِسمَعي مَدُّ

I held my breath and listened intently

I held my breath and strained my ears to listen;

Ebb and flow within me and within my hearing

Within my soul was an ebb, and in my hearing, a rising tide.

فَقالَت وَدِدنا لَو عَرِفنا مِنَ الفَتى

وَما يَبتَغيهِ قُلتُ ما يَبتَغي العَبدُ

She said, “We wish we knew of the young man

She said, "We wish we knew what the young man..."

And what he seeks.” I said, “A slave seeks only what he must.”

"...desires." I replied, "What a devoted slave desires."

لَهُ كَبِدٌ حَرّى وَقَلبٌ مُكلَمٌ

غَلِطتُ فَما لِلصَبِّ قَلب وَلا كَبِدُ

“He has a burning liver and a cloven heart”

"He possesses burning vitals and a wounded heart."

I erred - passion has no heart or liver

I erred; for the lover possesses neither heart nor vitals anymore.

قَتيل وَلَكِن ثَوبُهُ كَفَنٌ لَهُ

وَكُلُّ مَكانٍ يَستَريحُ بِهِ لَحدُ

A slain man, but his garb is a shroud for him

A slain man, yet his robe serves as his shroud,

And every place in which he rests is his tomb

And every place where he rests becomes a grave.

فَإِن لَم يَكُن مِن نَظرَةٍ تَرأَبُ الحَشا

فَرُدّي عَلَيهِ قَلبُه وَبِهِ زُهدُ

“So if his gaze does not mend the rending of passion

If there is no glance to mend his shattered spirit,

Return to him his heart, though you care not for it”

Then return his heart to him, for he has renounced desire.

فَضَرَّجَ خَدَّيها اِحمِرارٌ كَأَنَّما

تَصاعَدَ مِن قَلبي إِلى خَدِّها الوَجدُ

A blush suffused her cheeks as though

A blush stained her cheeks crimson, as if

Passion itself ascended from my heart to her cheek

The burning passion had ascended from my heart to her face.

وَقَرَّبَها مِنّي وَقَرَّبَني الهَوى

إِلى أَن ظَنَنّا أَنَّنا واحِدٌ فَردُ

And passion drew her close to me, and drew me

And love drew her near to me, and drew me near,

Until we thought we were but one being

Until we believed that we were a single soul.

وَكَهرَبَ روحَينا فَلَمّا تَنَهَّدَت

تَنَهَّدتُ حَتّى كادَ صَدري يَنهَدُّ

Our spirits electrified, and when she sighed

It electrified our spirits; and when she sighed,

I sighed until my chest nearly collapsed

I sighed until my chest nearly collapsed.

وَكانَ حَديثٌ خِلتُ أَنّي حَفِظتُهُ

فَأَذهَلَني عَنهُ الَّذي كانَ مِن بَعدُ

We spoke of what I remembered and treasured

There was a conversation I thought I had committed to memory,

But what came after made me forget it entirely

But what followed made me oblivious to it all.

أَمَرتُ فُؤادي أَن يُطيعَ فُؤادَها

فَيَبكي كَما تَبكي وَتَشدو كَما تَشدو

I ordered my heart to obey hers

I commanded my heart to obey her heart,

To weep when she wept and sing when she sang

So it would weep as she weeps, and sing as she sings.

وَقُلتُ لِنَفسي هَذِهِ مُنتَهى المُنى

وَهَذا مَجالَ الشُكرِ إِن فاتَكَ الحَمدُ

And I said to myself, “This is the height of desire

And I told myself: This is the summit of all hopes,

This is the place for gratitude, if praise escapes you”

And the realm of gratitude, should praise escape you.

فَإِن تَرغَبي عَنها وَفيكِ بَقِيَّةٌ

فَما أَنتِ نَفسي إِنَّما أَنتِ لِيَ ضِدُّ

But if you turn from it, and some remains in you

So if you turn away from her while life remains in you,

Then you, my soul, are naught but my contrary

You are not my soul; you are merely my adversary.

وَمَرَّت لَيال وَالمُنى تَجذِبُ المُنى

وَقَلبي كَما شاءَت يَلين وَيَشتَدُّ

Nights passed, and desire pulled upon desire

Nights passed, with hopes attracting further hopes,

My heart bent and stiffened however she willed

And my heart softening and hardening as she desired.

تَروح وَتَغدو وَاللَيالي كَأَنَّها

وُقوفٌ لِأَمرٍ لا تَروحُ وَلا تَغدو

She came and went while the nights were as though

She comes and goes, yet the nights seemed

They stood still, neither coming nor going

To stand frozen for some purpose, neither passing nor returning.

وَما زُلتُ تَستَخفي عَلَيَّ عُيوبُها

إِلى أَن تَوَلّى الغَي وَاِتَّضَحَ الرُشدُ

And still she hid her flaws from me

Her flaws remained hidden from my sight,

Until the blindness passed and clarity emerged

Until illusion retreated and the truth became plain.

رَأى الدَهرُ سَدّاً حَولَ قَلبي وَقَلبَها

فَما زالَ حَتّى صارَ بَينَهُما السَدُّ

Fate saw a barrier around our two hearts

Fate saw a barrier surrounding my heart and hers,

It remained until a wall rose between us

And did not rest until that barrier stood between them.

خُدِعتُ بِها وَالحُرُّ سَهلٌ خِداعُهُ

فَلا طالِعي يُمن وَلا كَوكَبي سَعدُ

I was deceived by her - the free are easily deceived

I was deceived by her, for the noble soul is easily misled;

My fortune bodes no good, nor do my stars

My fortune holds no blessing, nor is my star auspicious.

وَكُنّا تَعاهَدنا عَلى المَوتِ في الهَوى

فَما لَبِثَت إِلّا كَما يَلبَثُ الوَردُ

We had sworn to die in passion’s name

We had pledged a covenant to die in love,

Yet she remained only as long as a rose

Yet she lasted only as long as a fleeting rose.

كَأَنّي ما أَلصَقتُ ثَغري بِثَغرِها

وَلا باتَ زِندي وَهوَ في جيدِها عِقدُ

As though I never pressed my lips to hers

It is as if I never pressed my lips to hers,

As though my arm never encircled her neck

Nor did my arm spend the night as a necklace embracing her throat.

وَلَم نَشتَمِل بِاللَيل وَالحَيُّ نائِمٌ

وَلَم نَستَتِر بِالرَوض وَاللَيلُ مُمتَدُّ

We never embraced in the dark, while the living slept

As if we never wrapped ourselves in the night while the tribe slept,

Nor hid ourselves in the garden, while the night stretched on

Nor hid within the garden as the darkness stretched on.

وَلا هَزَّنا شَدوُ الحَمائِمِ في الضُحى

وَلا ضَمَّنا بَيت وَلَم يَحوِنا بُردُ

The songbirds' melody at dawn never stirred us

Nor did the cooing of doves in the morning stir us,

No wall enclosed us, no cold confined us

Nor any house unite us, nor any cloak enfold us.

أَإِن لاحَ في فودي القَتيرُ نَكَرتِني

أَيَزهَدُ في الصَمصامِ إِن خَلِقَ الغِمدُ

Does the sword scorn its sheath if it is made anew?

Is it because gray hairs appeared at my temples that you rejected me?

Would it spurn the fine Yemeni blade if a scabbard were fashioned?

Is a sharp sword cast aside simply because its sheath is worn?

لَئِن كانَ لَونُ الشَعرِ ما تَعشَقينَهُ

فَدُم أَبيَضاً ما دُمتَ يا شَعرِيَ الجَعدُ

If my hair’s color is not to your liking

If it is merely the color of hair that you adore,

My blood is still white, my tresses still black

Then remain white as long as you last, O my curly locks.

فَلا تَشمَتي مِنّي فَلَستُ بِمَأمَنٍ

وَلا تَزهَدي فيهِ فَلَيسَ بِهِ زُهدُ

So do not gloat over me, I am not safe

Do not gloat over me, for you are not immune to time;

Do not reject it, it is not worthy of rejection

Do not scorn this grayness, for it warrants no disdain.

هُوَ الفاتِحُ الغازي الَّذي لا تَرُدُّهُ

عَنِ الفاتِحِ الغازي قِلاع وَلا جُندُ

It is the conquering invader whom no fortresses or armies can repel

It is the conquering invader whom...

If it were not for the gray hair, I would have repelled it

...no castles nor armies can repel from his conquest.

فَلَو كانَ غَيرَ الشَيبِ عَنّي صَرفتُهُ

وَلَكِنّنَ حُكمَ اللَهِ لَيسَ لَهُ رَدُّ

But the decree of God cannot be rejected

Had it been anything other than age, I would have driven it away,

If you turn from my parting though it still be black

But God's decree cannot be overturned.

وَإِن تُعرِضي عَن مَفرِقي وَهوَ أَبيَضٌ

فَيا طالَما قَبَّلتِه وَهوَ مُسوَدُّ

Oh, how often you kissed it when it was darkened!

If you turn away from my brow now that it is white,

May God heal my soul - may He not heal hers!

How often you used to kiss it when it was black!

شَفى اللَهُ نَفسي لا شَفى اللَهُ نَفسَها

وَلا غابَ عَن أَجفانِها الدَمع وَالسُهدُ

May the tears and wakefulness not leave her eyes!

May God heal my soul, but may He grant no healing to hers,

Her lips are no pearls, nor are her eyes agates

And may tears and sleeplessness never depart from her eyes.

فَلا ثَغرُها دُر وَلا أُقحُوانَةٌ

وَلا دَمعُها طَل وَلا ريقُها شُهدُ

Her tears no drops of dew, nor her saliva sweet as honey

Her mouth is no string of pearls, nor a daisy flower,

Her stature is no branch, she is no gazelle

Her tears are not dew, nor is her kiss like honey.

وَلا قَدُّها غُصن وَلا خَيرَزانَةٌ

وَلا خَصرُها غَور وَلا رِدفُها نَجدُ

Her waist no pit, her hips hold no abundance

Her figure is no willow branch, nor a slender stalk,

Her face is no sun, her hair no darkness

Her waist is no deep valley, nor her hips a highland.

وَلا وَجهُها شَمس وَلا شَعرُها دُجىً

وَلا صَدُّها حَر وَلا وَصلُها بَردُ

Her breast kindles no passion, her union no chill

Her face is no sun, nor is her hair the night's darkness,

To my soul the rubble is more beloved than meeting her

Her rejection burns not with heat, nor does her union bring cool relief.

أُحَبُّ إِلى نَفسي الرَدى مِن لِقائِها

وَأَجمَلُ في عَينَيَّ مِن وَجهِها القِردُ

And the ape's visage more beautiful than her face

Death is dearer to my soul than meeting her,

If you touch the garb I'm wearing

And a monkey appears more beautiful to my eyes than her face.

فَإِن تَلمَسِ الثَوبَ الَّذي أَنا لابِسٌ

قَدَدتُ بِكَفِّيَ الثَوبَ مِن قَبلُ يَنقَدُّ

I'll shred the garb lest it be plundered

If she were to touch the garment I am wearing,

If you approach the house in which I dwell

I would rip it with my own hands before it could tear on its own.

وَإِن تَقرُبِ الدارَ الَّتي أَنا ساكِنٌ

هَجَرتُ مَغانيها وَلَو أَنَّها الخُلدُ

I'll abandon it, even if it be eternal paradise

And if she approached the house where I dwell,

If passion remains his religion, so be it

I would abandon its halls, even if they were Paradise itself.

فَإِن كانَ غَيري لَم يَزَل دينُهُ الهَوى

فَإِنّي وَلا أَخشى المَلامَة مُرتَدُّ

For I do not fear blame, even if deemed an apostate

So if others still hold Love as their religion,

Then I, fearing no blame, am an apostate.