هَلْ مِنْ فَتَى يَنْشُدُ قَلْبِي مَعِي

بَيْنَ خُدُورِ الْعيْنِ بِالأَجْرَعِ

Is there a lad who sings with me

Between the eyelids with the dark pupils?

كَانَ مَعِي ثُمَّ دَعَاهُ الْهَوَى

فَمَرَّ بِالْحَيِّ وَلم يَرْجَعِ

He was with me but passion called him

He passed by the neighborhood and did not return

فَهَلْ إِذَا نَادَيْتُهُ بِاسْمِهِ

يُفِيقُ مِنْ سَكْرَتِهِ أَوْ يَعِي

So if I call him by his name

Would he awake from his drunkenness or become conscious?

هَيْهَاتَ يَلْقَى رَشَداً بَعْدَمَا

أَغْوَاهُ لَحْظُ الرَّشَإِ الأَتْلَعِ

Alas! He will not regain consciousness after

The glance of the fawn-eyed one misguided him

فَيَا دموعَ الْقَطْرِ سِيلِي دَماً

وَيَا بَنَاتِ الأَيْكِ نُوحِي مَعِي

So flow, tears of dripping, blood

And O virgins of the thicket, lament with me

وَأَنْتِ يَا نَسْمَةَ وَادِي الْغَضَى

مُرِّي بِرَيَّاكِ عَلَى مَرْبَعِي

And O breeze of the valley of grief

Pass your fragrance over my enclosure

وَأَنْتِ يَا عُصْفُورَةَ الْمُنْحَنَى

بِاللَّهِ غَنِّي طَرَباً وَاسْجَعِي

And O little bird of the bending branches

For God’s sake, sing joy and roost

وَأَنْتِ يَا عَيْنُ إِذَا لَمْ تَفِي

بِذِمَّةِ الدَّمْعِ فَلا تَهْجَعِي

And O eye, if you cannot

Fulfill the duty of tears, do not sleep

صَبَابَةٌ أَغْرَتْ عَلَيَّ الأَسَى

وَدَلَّتِ السُّهْدَ عَلَى مَضْجَعِي

An enchanting girl brought sorrow over me

And pointed out my resting place to insomnia

وَيْلاهُ مِنْ نارِ الْهَوَى إِنَّهَا

لَوْلا دُمُوعِي أَحْرَقَتْ أَضْلُعِي

Woe to him from the fire of passion

Were it not for my tears, it would have burned my ribs

أَبِيتُ أَرْعَى النَّجْمَ فِي سُدْفَةٍ

ضَلَّ بِهَا الصُّبْحُ فَلَمْ يَطْلُعِ

I spend the night herding the stars in a shelter

Where the dawn got lost and did not rise

لا أَهْتَدِي فِيهَا إِلَى حِيلَةٍ

تَقِي حَيَاتِي مِنْ يَدَيْ مَصْرَعِي

I cannot find in it a trick

To protect my life from the hands of my death

طَوْرَاً أُدَارِي لَوْعَتِي بِالْمُنَى

وَتَارَةً يَغْلِبُنِي مَدْمَعِي

Sometimes I cope with my torment with wishes

And sometimes my tears overwhelm me

فَهَلْ إِلَى الأَشْوَاقِ مِنْ غَايَةٍ

أَمْ هَلْ إِلَى الأَوْطَانِ مِنْ مَرْجَعِ

Is there an end to longing?

Or is there a way back home?

لا تَأْسَ يَا قَلْبُ عَلَى مَا مَضَى

لا بُدَّ لِلْمِحْنَةِ مِنْ مَقْطَعِ

Do not despair, O heart, over what is past

Suffering must have a relief