يَا وَيْحَ نَفْسِي مِنْ هَوَى شَادِنٍ

يَا وَيْحَ نَفْسِي مِنْ هَوَى شَادِنٍ

غَازَلَ قَلْبِي لَحْظُهُ فَانْهَتَكْ

غَازَلَ قَلْبِي لَحْظُهُ فَانْهَتَكْ

Alas for my soul, enamored of a young gazelle—

whose glance wooed my heart and laid its sanctity bare.

ذِي نَظْرَةٍ كَالسِّحْرِ لَوْ صَادَفَتْ

ذِي نَظْرَةٍ كَالسِّحْرِ لَوْ صَادَفَتْ

غَمْزَتُهَا لَيْثَ وَغىً مَا فَتَكْ

غَمْزَتُهَا لَيْثَ وَغىً مَا فَتَكْ

Endowed with a gaze like sorcery—if there met

her wink a lion of battle, he would never strike.

فَكَيْفَ أَحْمِي مُهْجَتِي بَعْدَمَا

فَكَيْفَ أَحْمِي مُهْجَتِي بَعْدَمَا

خَامَرَهَا الْوَجْدُ فَطَارَتْ بِتَكْ

خَامَرَهَا الْوَجْدُ فَطَارَتْ بِتَكْ

How, then, can I guard my very soul, now that

longing has possessed it and it has flown away to you?

فَلا يَلُمْنِي غَافِلٌ فَالْهَوَى

فَلا يَلُمْنِي غَافِلٌ فَالْهَوَى

سَيْفٌ إِذَا مَرَّ بِشَيءٍ بَتَكْ

سَيْفٌ إِذَا مَرَّ بِشَيءٍ بَتَكْ

Let no heedless man blame me, for passion

is a sword: whatever it passes over, it severs.

مَاذَا عَلَى مَنْ بَخِلَتْ نَفْسُهُ

مَاذَا عَلَى مَنْ بَخِلَتْ نَفْسُهُ

بِالْوَصْلِ لَوْ قَبَّلْتُ طَرْفَ الأَتَكْ

بِالْوَصْلِ لَوْ قَبَّلْتُ طَرْفَ الأَتَكْ

What would it cost the one whose soul begrudges

union, if I kissed but the edge of his garment’s hem?