كَم قائل لَو كُنتَ تَلقاها
لَأَنكَرَت عَيناك مَرآها
How many would say, had they met her,
Their eyes would deny the sight of her.
ذابِلة ناحِلة قَد مَحَت
يَدُ الأَسى القاسي محيّاها
Withered, emaciated, the cruel hand of grief
Has erased her beauty.
لا تَلقَها لا تَرَها إِنَّها
مرّ بِها المَوت فَأَخطاها
Do not meet her, do not see her, for
Death has passed her, missing her.
وَسائل هَل بَقيت فضلة
لَديك مِن حُب وَذكراها
And ask yourself, is there still
Any love or memory left for her?
قَد مَرَّ عامان وَها ثالث
وَواحِدٌ كافٍ لِتَنساها
Two years have passed, and a third,
And one alone would suffice to forget her.
وَأَنتَ كَالنَحلة مِن زَهرة
لِزَهرة تَسليك إياها
Yet you are like the bee, from flower
To flower, it leads you to her.
أَخطَأتما لَم تَعرفا ما الهَوى
كِلاكُما عَن كنهه تاها
You both erred, not knowing what love is,
You both strayed, ignorant of its essence.
السقم لا يَصرف وَجه امرئ
عَن وَجه مَحبوبٍ وَإِن شاها
Illness does not turn a man’s face
From the face of his beloved, though it wore him down.
كلا وَلا يَقصيه حَتّى وَلَو
كانَ مِن الأَسقام أَعداها
No, it does not distance him, even if
It were among the harshest afflictions.
وَالمَوت ما أَبلى هَوى عاشقٍ
وَمُهجة المَعشوق أَبلاها
And death does not wear out a lover’s passion,
Though it wore down his beloved’s body.
دونك قيساً مثلاً إِنَّه
إِن جئت بِالأَمثال أَعلاها
Take Qays, for example, if examples you seek,
He is the highest of them.
ما زالَ يَغشى قبر لَيلى إِلى
أَن أَسلم الروح فلبّاها
He continued to visit Layla’s grave
Until he breathed his last breath and joined her.
أَلا تَرى النحلة مَهما حَلا
زهر الرُبى لَم تَنس مَأواها
Do you not see that the bee, wherever it lands,
Does not forget its home?
تَطلبت عَيني سِواها وَقَد
تَعلّق القَلب بِمَغناها
My eyes sought another, yet
My heart clung to her songs.
نعم تذوّقت هَوى غَيرها
فَلَم يَطب للقَلب إِلّاها
Yes, I have tasted the love of others,
But none pleased my heart but her.
وَإِن أَجد حسناً فَمِن حُسنَها
أَو نَفحةً ذكرت ريّاها
If I find beauty, it reminds me of hers,
If a melody, it recalls her voice.
أَو قُلت في شَكواي واهاً سرت
وَرَدد الوادي صَدى آها
Or if I say in my lament, “Oh!”,
The valley echoes her sigh.
مَظلومة سيقت إِلى ظالم
نغّص مغداها وَمَسراها
Wronged, led to an unjust man,
Who soured her mornings and evenings.
كانَ أَبوها راعياً غاشماً
للذئب لا للحبّ ربّاها
Her father was a harsh shepherd
To the wolf, not the lover - he raised her.
