ومَيَّالة العِطْفَيْنِ غَرْثانَةُ الحَشى
فلم تدرِ أنّي في هواها أُنَغَّصُّ
And she sways through both flanks, her belly hunger-slender—
yet she does not know that love of her torments me.
أجودُ بروحي للقنا في وِدادِها
ولو بَخُلَتْ وَصْلاً عليَّ وتَحْرِصُ
For love of her, I freely offer my soul to the spears,
though she begrudge me union and jealously withhold it.
أرَخص نفسي في هواها وأدْمُعي
وما عُوِّدَتْ قبلَ العَلاقةِ تَرّخُصُ
I count my life and tears as nothing in my love for her,
though before this bond my soul was never taught to cheapen itself.
فَشَري الهوى أرْي وعذب أجاجُهُ
وخُسران أهليه لَهُم فيهِ مَخْلَصُ
For love’s bitter is honey, while its sweet is brine;
and its devotees’ ruin is, within it, their deliverance.
أمالئةَ الحجلين أن وِدادَكُم
تَشَبّكَ قلبي فيه لا يتخلصُ
O you whose full calves fill both anklets, surely your love
has ensnared my heart in it; it cannot break free.
Sol 5.6