سَمِعَت عَويلَ النائِحاتِ عَشِيَّةً

في الحَيِّ يَبتَعيثُ الأَسى وَيُثيرُ

I heard the wailing of mourners one evening,

She heard the wailing of mourners at dusk, / In the neighborhood, stirring up sorrow and provoking grief.

Stirring sorrow in the neighborhood,

Weeping in the cover of darkness for a young girl; / Truly, weeping over lost youth is bitter.

يَبكَينَ في جُنحِ الظَلامِ صَبِيَّةً

إِنَّ البُكاءَ عَلى الشَبابِ مَريرُ

Girls crying in the wings of darkness,

Her face grew grim, and she turned in terror, / Like a gazelle certain it has been snared.

For weeping over youth is bitter.

A tear hesitated within her eyes, / A mute tear—neither flowing down nor receding.

فَتَجَهَّمَت وَتَلَفَّتَت مُرتاعَةً

كَالظَبيِ أَيقَنَ أَنَّهُ مَأسورُ

She frowned and tossed confused,

As if it were a warrior surrounded by foes / With their swords, while his own blade lies broken.

Like a gazelle certain it is captive,

She fell into gloom, and so all things grew gloomy: / The light, the shadows, and the deep dark.

وَتَحَيَّرَت في مُقلَتَيها دَمعَةٌ

خَرساءُ لا تَهمي وَلَيسَ تَغورُ

And a mute tear wavered in her eyelids,

The whole universe stood dazed by her daze, / As though the very earth had ceased to spin.

Speechless, aimless, unable to flow.

Nothing around us, nor before us, / Seemed fair to her, though beauty abounded.

فَكَأَنَّها بَطَلٌ تَكَنَّفَهُ العِدى

بِسُيوفِهِم وَحُسامُهُ مَكسورُ

It was as if she were a hero surrounded by foes,

The brook fell silent as if shrouded in earth, / And the breeze drifted absent-mindedly, as if in panic.

With their swords, while his sword is broken.

As if the illuminated firmament were a wasteland, / And the radiant stars within it were graves.

وَجَمَت فَأَمسى كُلُّ شَيءٍ واجِماً

النور وَالأَظلال وَالدَيجورُ

Everything fell silent as night descended,

She used to jest and laugh with me, but now / The time for jesting ended; her laughter turned to brooding.

Light and shadows and the dark.

She said, as sorrow stripped the smile from her face: / "True was he who said that life is but a delusion."

الكَونُ أَجمَعُ ذاهِلٌ لِذُهولِها

حَتّى كَأَنَّ الأَرضَ لَيسَ تَدورُ

The whole universe distraught at her distraughtness,

"Do we die like this, and do our dreams expire / In a single moment, as we turn to dust?"

As if the earth itself had ceased to spin.

"And do earthworms ripple through the hearts within, / Where hopes and desires once surged and swelled?"

لا شَيءَ مِمّا حَولَنا وَأَمامَنا

حَسَنٌ لَدَيها وَالجَمالُ كَثيرُ

Nothing around or ahead of us

"Better off than us are those never born, / And better than humankind are the boulders and rocks."

Seemed beautiful, for all beauty was much.

"Better than eyes are mere kohl-jars and wands, / And better than lips are cosmetic dusts and powders."

سَكَتَ الغَديرُ كَأَنَّما اِلتَحَفَ الثَرى

وَسَها النَسيمُ كَأَنَّهُ مَذعورُ

The stream fell silent as if embracing the ground,

"And better than hearts throbbing with passion / Are hollow reeds where the wind whistles through."

The breeze quiet as if terrified.

She paused, and I felt, in the wake of her words, / That existence was chaotic and severed.

وَكَأَنَّما الفَلَكُ المُنَوَّرُ بَلقَعٌ

وَالأَنجُمُ الزَهراءُ فيهِ قُبورُ

The glowing heavens became a patchwork,

Summer breathed its heat all around us, / Yet I felt as though I were shivering with cold.

The shining stars within it graves.

She drove doubts into my heart, ruining / My night—for there is no joy where doubt resides.

كانَت تُمازِحُني وَتَضحَكَُ فَاِنتَهى

دَورُ المِزاحِ فَضِحكَها تَفكيرُ

She used to joke with me and laugh – but that time has passed,

I feared that love, amidst such doubt, would become / Like a sketch of flowers that holds no scent.

Her laughter now deep thought.

Or like a sculptor's statue: possessing magnificent beauty / That fills the eye, yet devoid of all feeling.

قالَت وَقَد سَلَخَ اِبتِسامَتَها الأَسى

صَدَقَ الَّذي قالَ الحَياةُ غُرورُ

She said – and her smile was stripped away by sorrow –

So I answered her: "Let the worms of the earth / Have our bodies; for bodies are but husks."

“He who said life is an illusion told the truth.”

"Do not despair, for death cannot harm us; / We shall have a return after it, and a resurrection."

أَكَذا نَموت وَتَنقَضي أَحلامُنا

في لَحظَة وَإِلى التُرابِ نَصيرُ

"We shall remain after all mankind passes, / And this visible world fades away."

Can we thus die, our dreams destroyed,

"For love is an eternal, ever-renewing light; / It sets only to shine forth again as light."

وَتَموجُ ديدانُ الثَرى في أَكبُدٍ

كانَت تَموجُ بِها المُنى وَتَمورُ

And in an instant turn to dust?

"The children of love are their dreams and their visions, / Not mere eyes, nor lips, nor bosoms."

With earthworms writhing in a corpse

"So when the earth hides us away from its blossoms, / And the night is void of us, though the moons remain,"

خَيرٌ إِذَن مِنّا الأُلى لَم يولَدوا

وَمِنَ الأَنامِ جَلامِد وَصُخورُ

Once filled with wishes that came and went?

"You shall return as a fragrant garden thicket, / And I, within its branches, an enchanted nightingale,"

Better than us are those never born,

"Singing to it, flitting through its corners, / While it trembles with joy as he sings and takes flight."

وَمِنَ العُيونِ مَكاحِل وَمَراوِدٌ

وَمِنَ الشِفاهِ مَساحِق وَذُرورُ

And people like statues of rock.

"Or you will be a shimmering, chanting brook, / And I, within it, a laughing wave and a murmur."

Eyes with kohl, tempting glances,

"Or you shall return as a graceful, swaying butterfly, / And I, in its wings, the refracted morning light."

وَمِنَ القُلوبِ الخافِقاتِ صَبابَةً

قَصَبٌ لِوَقعِ الريحِ فيهِ صَفيرُ

Lips with cosmetics, the plucked and depilated.

"Or a breeze—and I its whisper and rustle— / Forever roaming the hills, circling around,"

Hearts that flutter like moths

"Visiting the thickets in the morning, dewy and moist, / And returning at dusk, laden with perfume."

وَتَوَقَّفَت فَشَعَرتُ بَعدَ حَديثِها

أَنَّ الوُجودَ مُشَوَّشٌ مَبتورُ

Are reeds making music in the winds.

"Or we might meet, near a melancholy soul, in contentment / And peace—as a willow tree and a stream."

She fell silent and I felt, after her talk,

"Her roots extending into him and his soil, / While he flows and wanders beneath her boughs."

الصَيفُ يَنفُثُ حَرَّهَُ مِن حَولِنا

وَأَنا أُحِسُّ كَأَنَّني مَقرورُ

That existence itself was disturbed and severed.

"Her reflection dives into him, and he embraces it; / It shimmers—at once concealed and diffused."

Summer breathes its heat around us

"Seeking shelter in them, when the midday heat grows fierce, / Are those two hermits: the gazelle and the sparrow."

ساقَت إِلى قَلبي الشُكوكَ فَنَغَّصَت

لَيلي وَلَيسَ مَعَ الشُكوكِ سُرورُ

And I feel as though I am scorched.

"They find her tranquility and her spreading shade, / And the water, should they thirst, is abundant in him."

Doubts crept into my heart, poisoning

"Two wonders: hanging emeralds, growing lush, / While beneath them flows liquid crystal."

وَخَشيتُ أَن يَغدو مَعَ الرَيبِ الهَوى

كَالرَسمِ لا عِطر وَفيهِ زُهورُ

My night – for doubts bring no joy.

"Neither morning nor darkness comes between them; / For each is submerged within the other."

I feared passion might, with suspicion,

"Days pass in succession, yet she remains fresh, / With verdant leaves, and he remains pure water."

وَكَدُميَةِ المَثّالِ حُسنٌ رائِعٌ

مِلءُ العُيون وَلَيسَ ثَمَّ شُعورُ

Become like art – no scent in its flowers.

"So all of time, for her, is bliss, / And all of time, for him, is joy."

Like the example’s beauty – eyes fill, but there is

Then she smiled, and contentment dawned upon her face, / Pleased by this imagery and this portrayal.

فَأَجَبتُها لِتَكُن لِديدانِ الثَرى

أَجسامُنا إِنَّ الجُسومَ قُشورُ

No feeling. So I told her: let our bodies

I treated her with illusion, and she found peace— / How often anesthesia aids the one in pain!

Be for earthworms, bodies are but shells.

Then we parted, laughing, until the morrow, / While the stars above us whispered and beckoned.

لا تَجزَعي فَالمَوتُ لَيسَ يَضيرُنا

فَلَنا إِيابٌ بَعدَه وَنُشورُ

Do not grieve, for death does not hurt us.

She was like a traveler returned after hardship, / And I felt like a victorious commander.

We have an afterlife and resurrection.

But when I finally retired to my bed, / The mattress felt rough beneath me, though it was soft.

إِنّا سَنَبقى بَعدَ أَن يَمضي الوَرى

وَيَزولُ هَذا العالَمُ المَنظورُ

We will remain when this visible world fades,

My lamp's light weakened, its breath flickering / And stammering, like one suffering consumption.

This realm that passes away.

I cast my gaze upon a book, but it appeared / Like an obliterated ruin containing lines.

فَالحُبُّ نورٌ خالِدٌ مُتَجَدِّدٌ

لا يَنطَوي إِلّا لِيَسطَعُ نورُ

For love is eternal light, renewed,

I drank the daughter of the vine, seeking comfort there, / But my calculation and judgment went astray.

That only wanes to shine brighter.

I felt like a ship whose rigging had snapped, / With the sea raging and rising around it.

وَبَنو الهَوى أَحلامُهُم وَرُؤاهُمُ

لا أَعيُن وَمَراشِف وَنُحورُ

The dreams and visions of love’s children

A worry seized me, robbing my heart of its peace / And my eyelids of sleep—leaving both tormented.

Are not eyes, pillows, breasts.

Doubts hovered over my soul, as if my soul / Were prey, and the doubts were hawks.

فَإِذا طَوَتنا الأَرضُ عَن أَزهارِها

وَخَلا الدُجى مِنّا وَفيهِ بُدورُ

When earth covers its flowers and we leave darkness,

I sought refuge in Hope, but it forsook me; / As for Imagination, it lay defeated and crushed.

You will return fragrant as jasmine,

"O Night, where is the light? For I am lost. / Command it to break forth—or do you possess no light?"

فَسَتَرجُعينَ خَميلَةً مِعطارَةً

أَنا في ذُراها بُلبُلٌ مَسحورُ

And I a nightingale enchanted in its branches,

"Do we die like this, and do our dreams expire / In a single moment, as we turn to dust?"

Singing as I alight and take flight.

"Better off than us are those never born, / And better than humankind are the stones and rocks."

يَشدو لَها وَيَطيرُ في جَنَباتِها

فَتَهِشُّ إِذ يَشدو وَحينَ يَطيرُ

Or a brook, rippling, murmuring,

With me as its chuckling, babbling wave.

أَو جَدوَلاً مُتَرَقرِقاً مُتَرَنِّماً

أَنا فيهِ مَوجٌ ضاحِك وَخَريرُ

Or a butterfly flitting by,

My dawn woven in its wings.

أَو تَرجِعينَ فَراشَةً خَطّارَةً

أَنا في جَناحَيها الضُحى المَوشورُ

A breeze – my whispering and rustling –

Circling the meadows without end.

أَو نَسمَةً أَنا هَمسُها وَحَفيفُها

أَبَداً تُطَوِّفُ في الرُبى وَتَدورُ

I visit the buds in the morn with dew,

And when they open, my scent is their scent.

تَغشى الخَمائِلَ في الصَباحِ بَليلَةً

وَتَأوبُ حينَ تَأوب وَهيَ عَبيرُ

We meet in resignation by the stream,

Contentment, willow, and sparrow.

أَو تَلتَقي عِندَ الكَئيبِ عَلى رِضىً

وَقَناعَةٍ صَفصافَة وَغَديرُ

They share its stillness and shaded shelter,

Its water to quench their thirst.

تَمتَدُّ فيه وَفي ثَراهُ عُروقُها

وَيَسيلُ تَحتَ فُروعِها وَيَسيرُ

Two miracles – emerald, turquoise –

One sleeping, the other flowing clear.

وَيَغوصُ فيهِ خَيالُها فَيَلفُّهُ

وَيَشِفُّ فَهوَ المُنطَوي المَنثورُ

No dawn comes between, no dusk,

Each enveloped completely in light.

يَأوي إِذا اِشتَدَّ الهَجيرُ إِلَيهِما

الناسِكانِ الظَبي وَالعُصفورُ

Days pass by, fresh and verdant,

Green leaves and blossoming fruit.

لَهُما سَكينَتُها وَوارِفُ ظِلِّها

وَالماءُ إِن عَطِشا لَدَيهِ وَفيرُ

So time gives them its all –

Pleasure and joy forevermore.

أُعجوبَتانِ زَبَرجَدٌ مُتَهَدِّلٌ

نامٍ تَدَفَّقَ تَحتَهُ البَلّورُ

She smiled, liking my imagery and painting.

I cured her with fantasy – now she is serene.

لا الصُبحُ بَينَهُما يَحول وَلا الدُجى

فَكِلاهُما بِكِلَيهِما مَغمورُ

How often medicine alleviates pain!

Then we parted, laughing until tomorrow,

تَتَعاقَبُ الأَيّام وَهيَ نَضيرَةٌ

مُخضَرَّةُ الأَوراق وَهوَ نُمَيرُ

With shooting stars murmuring above us.

She seemed a traveler returned after hardship,

فَالدَهرُ أَجمَعَهُ لَدَيها غِبطَةٌ

وَالدَهرُ أَجمَعَهُ لَدَيهِ حُبورُ

While I was like a victorious leader.

But when I retired to my bed,

فَتَبَسَّمَت وَبَدا الرِضى في وَجهِها

إِذ راقَها التَمثيل وَالصَويرُ

The mattress felt rough and hard.

My lamp had dimmed and flickered out,

عالَجتُها بِالوَهمِ فَهيَ قَريرَةٌ

وَلَكَم أَفادَ الموجَعَ التَخديرُ

Its breath extinguished, dead.

I turned my eyes to a book but could only

ثُمَّ اِفتَرَقنا ضاحِكَينِ إِلى غَدٍ

وَالشُهبُ تَهمِسُ فَوقَنا وَتُشيرُ

Discern blurred lines as if in a sketch.

I drank old wine, hoping to relax –

هِيَ كَالمُسافِرِ آبَ بَعدَ مَشَقَّةٍ

وَأَنا كَأَنّي قائِدٌ مَنصورُ

But hopes and predictions were shattered.

لَكِنَّني لَمّا أَوَيتُ لِمَضجَعي

خَشُنَ الفِراشُ عَلَي وَهوَ وَثيرُ

I was like a ship whose anchors gave way,

The sea swelling and crashing around it.

وَإِذا سِراجي قَد وَهَت وَتَلَجلَجَت

أَنفاسُهُ فَكَأَنَّهُ المَصدورُ

Grief had seized my heart and lulled my eyes –

Both bereft and severed.

وَأَجَلتُ طَرفي في الكِتابِ فَلاحَ لي

كَالرَسمِ مَطموسا وَفيهِ سُطورُ

Doubts, like eagles descended upon my soul,

And it was as if they were prey and the doubts predators.

وَشَرِبتُ بِنتَ الكَرمِ أَحسَبُ راحَتي

فيها فَطاشَ الظَن وَالتَقديرُ

I resorted to hope but it failed me;

As for imagination, it was defeated and exiled.

فَكَأَنَّني فُلكٌ وَهَتَ أَمراسُها

وَالبَحرُ يَطغى حَولَها وَيَثورُ

O night! Where is light? I am lost –

Is there no ray from you I can follow?

سَلَبَ الفُؤادَ رَواه وَالجَفنَ الكَرى

هَمٌّ عَرا فَكِلاهُما مَوتورُ

Can we thus die, our dreams destroyed,

And in an instant turn to dust?

حامَت عَلى روحي الشُكوكُ كَأَنَّها

وَكَأَنَّهُنَّ فَريسَة وَصُقورُ

Better than us are those never born,

And people like statues of rock.

وَلَقَد لَجَأتُ إِلى الرَجاءِ فَعَقَّني

أَمّا الخَيالُ فَخائِبٌ مَدحورُ

يا لَيلُ أَينَ النورُ إِنّي تائِهٌ

مُر يَنبَثِق أَم لَيسَ عِندَكَ نورُ

أَكَذا نَموت وَتَنقَضي أَحلامُنا

في لَحظَة وَإِلى التُرابِ نَصيرُ

خَيرٌ إِذَن مِنّا الأُلى لَم يولَدوا

وَمِنَ الأَنامِ جَنادِل وَصُخورُ