أَما وَلَيل عذاريه وَما وَسَقا
وَوَجهه القَمَر الزاهي إِذا اِتَّسَقا
By night's passion, by morning's drink,
By his moon-bright face when it is clear,
وَصادِ صُبح جَبين تَحتَ دال دُجىً
تَغيب عَين الضُحى مِن فَرقهِ فَرَقا
By the dawning light on his brow beneath the dark,
Till his eyes from excess of joy disappear,
إِنّي لَأَذكُر ما خَصّت شَمائله
بِهِ فَأَشكُر مِنهُ الخَلق وَالخُلقا
I am mindful of his perfections that excell'd,
So I thank his nature and manners well bred.
مُهفهف القَدِّ لَولاه لَما نَظرت
عَيناي بَدرَ دياجٍ فَوقَ غُصن نَقا
He sways his pliant form, else had not mine eyes
Seen the full moon on branch of willow swaying;
عَزيز حُسن لِمَعناه وَمَنطقه
طَرفي وَسَمعي إِلى أَبوابه اِستَبَقا
Dear is his charm and speech for their meaning's sake,
My hearing and sight for his doors contending run.
كَم رُحت مِن حدق الأَلحاظ مُصطَبِحاً
راحا وَمِن قَدَح الأَلفاظ مُغتَبِقا
How oft from the languorous lids and the lightning glance
Free I'ld roam and the bowl of love relinquish.
جَلا لَنا خندريس الحان مرشفه
كَأَنَّما هِيَ شَمس أودعَت شَفَقا
He shows us the song's enchanting melodies,
As though a sun deposited in her train sunset glows.
فَاِحمرّ كَأس الطلا مِن خَدّه خَجَلاً
حَتّى تَصبّب مِن راووقهِ عرقا
Blush, O cup of wine, from his cheek in shame,
Till from thy brim sweat drops glide down.
حتّامَ يا ناعس الأَجفان تَمنَعني
كَرىً وَتَمنَحُ مَضناكَ الشَجي أَرَقا
Sleep! O heavy-lidded one, deny me rest,
While to thy love-sick heart repose granting.
فَتّان ناظرك الفَتّاك يا قَمَراً
تركيُّ لَحظيهِ لَم يَترُك بِنا رَمَقا
Tempter! thy slaying glance, O moon-faced one,
Left in me no life by its shooting.
أسيّج الوَرد رَيحان بِخدِّك أَم
زَهر البَنَفسج يا مَن قَد سَما وَرَقا
Does the rose adorn his cheek or blossoms
Of the lily-bloom, O thou who rose thy veil.
رَعى رِياض الخُزامي طَرف واردها
مِن وَجنَتيك وَحيّاها الحَيا وَسَقى
He reveled in the garden of Khazami's verse,
Fed by the fount of thy cheeks, and joy greeted him.
عَجبت مِن جَنّة حازَت سَمير لَظىً
دَليله أَنّ في قَلبي لَها حرقا
I wondered at the garden that gained a hot sun,
My heart for it burning is the proof.
هِيَ النَعيم بِها الظلّ الظَليل لَنا
ما بالُ قَلبي بِها يَلقى عَناً وَشَقا
It is bliss; in it shade and cool shade for us,
Why then does my heart meet therein grief and woe!
