انتظرني هنا مع الليل.. إنّي
أنا في صدركَ المحطَّم سِرُّ
Wait for me here with the night.. I am
A secret in your broken chest, so
هكذا قالتِ الشقيّةُ واللَّيْ
لُ على صدرها أنينٌ وشِعْر
Said the wretched one, and the night
Moaned on her chest, and poetry
واهتزازٌ كأنّه قُبَل العُشّا
قِ، لم يحمِها حجاب وسترُ
And trembling as if it were the kisses of lovers,
Unprotected by veil or cover
ولها نظرةٌ كأنَّ بقايا
من وداع على الجفون تمرّ
And she has a look as if remnants
Of farewell are passing by her eyelids
نعسةٌ، وانتعاشة.. وهنا الشَيْ
ءُ الذي قيل عنه للناس: سِحر!
Drowsiness, and wakefulness.. And here is the thing
That was said to people about: magic!
وابتهالٌ كأنّه غُربة الطَّيْـ
ـرِ، لها في سمائم البِيد سَيْر
And supplication as if it were the estrangement of the bird,
It has a way in the cords of the tents
ولها رعشةٌ كما انتفضتْ كأ
سٌ بكفّي، فكلُّها ليَ سُكْر
And she has a shudder as if a goblet
Was taken by my palms, so she is all intoxication to me
زمّارتي في الحقول كم صدحتْ
فكدتُ من فرحتي أطيرُ بها!
My flute in the fields how it rang out
I almost flew from my joy with it
الجَدْيُ في مرتعي يراقصُها
والنَّحْل في ربوتي يُجاوبُها
The partridges in my pasture dance with it
And the bees in my garden respond to it
والضَّوْءُ منْ نشوةٍ بنغْمتها!
قد مال في رَأْده يُلاعبُها
And light from the rapture of its melody
It leaned in its cradle to play with it
رنا لها من جفون سَوْسنَةٍ
فكاد من سَكرةٍ يُخاطبُها
The lilies sang to it from awakened eyelids
And almost from intoxication conversed with it
نفختُ في نايها فطَرَّبني
وراح في عُزلتي يُداعبُها
I blew in its flute so it made me joyful
And went in my solitude to caress it
يُغازلُ الروحَ من ملاحِنِهِ
بخَفْقَةٍ في الضُّحَى تُواثبُها
It flirts with the soul from its tunes
With a throb in the morning that makes it leap
سكرانُ من بهْجة الربيع بلا
خمْرٍ به رُقْرِقَتْ سَواكِبُها
Intoxicated from the delight of spring without
Wine, by which its planets glittered
يهفو إلى مهده بمائسةٍ
من غَضِّ برْسيمه يُراقبُها
It yearns to its cradle with something
From the coolness of its breeze that observes it
صَبيَّةٍ فُوِّفَتْ غلائلُها
وطُرِّزَت بالسَّنَا ذوائبُها
A young girl whose tresses are disheveled
And adorned with traveler's joy
غنَّيْتُ في ظلِّها.. فهل سمعتْ
لحني وقَدْ أُرْعِشَتْ ترائبُها!
I sang in its shade.. Did she hear
My tune and her loosely hanging ornaments quivered
أم زارها في مِهادها نَسَمٌ
وراح من فتنةٍ يُجاذبُها؟
Or did a breeze visit her in her bed
And went from infatuation to pull her?
