أُحِبُّ صَديقاً مُنصِفاً في اِزدِيادِهِ

أُحِبُّ صَديقاً مُنصِفاً في اِزدِيادِهِ

يُخَفِّفُ عَن قَصدٍ وَيُبرِمُ عَن عُذرِ

يُخَفِّفُ عَن قَصدٍ وَيُبرِمُ عَن عُذرِ

I love a friend considerate as he grows closer,

I love a friend impartial in his growth

Who keeps his company light by choice, and wearies me only with good cause.

Who tempers intent and is stern with excuse

وَلا رَأيَ لي فيمَن يُنَغَّصُ خَلوَتي

وَلا رَأيَ لي فيمَن يُنَغَّصُ خَلوَتي

فَيَسرِقُ لَذّاتي وَيُنفِقُ مِن عُمري

فَيَسرِقُ لَذّاتي وَيُنفِقُ مِن عُمري

And I have no regard for one who spoils my solitude,

I care not for one who spoils my solitude

So he steals my pleasures and spends my life away.

Stealing my pleasures and spending my life

وَلي خَلَواتٌ لا أَبيعُ يَسيرَها

وَلي خَلَواتٌ لا أَبيعُ يَسيرَها

بِما مَلَكَت كَفّايَ مِن وافِرِ الوَفرِ

بِما مَلَكَت كَفّايَ مِن وافِرِ الوَفرِ

And I have hours of solitude, not the least of which I would sell

I have privacies I would not sell their least

For all the abundant wealth my two hands possess.

For what my palms have held of abundant wealth

أَبيتُ بِها في عالَمٍ مِن تَصَوُّري

أَبيتُ بِها في عالَمٍ مِن تَصَوُّري

يُسامِرُني عَقلي وَيُؤنِسُني فِكري

يُسامِرُني عَقلي وَيُؤنِسُني فِكري

I spend the night in them, in a world of my own imagining;

I lodge in them in a world of my imagining

My reason converses with me by night, and my thought keeps me company.

Where my reason converses and my thoughts delight

وَيَعتادُني مِن خَمرِ مَعنايَ نَشوَةٌ

وَيَعتادُني مِن خَمرِ مَعنايَ نَشوَةٌ

أَوَدُّ سُروراً أَن يَدومَ بِها سُكري

أَوَدُّ سُروراً أَن يَدومَ بِها سُكري

And from the wine of my meaning, a rapture returns to me;

And the wine of my meanings gives me a drunkenness

In delight, I wish my drunkenness through it would last.

I love when my happiness makes my rapture endure

إِذا كُدَّ وَزنُ النَظمِ جُهدَ قَريحَتي

إِذا كُدَّ وَزنُ النَظمِ جُهدَ قَريحَتي

عَزَلتُ القَوافي وَاِستَرَحتُ إِلى النَثرِ

عَزَلتُ القَوافي وَاِستَرَحتُ إِلى النَثرِ

When the meter of verse taxes the strength of my poetic gift,

When the making of verse has taxed my talent overmuch

I set the rhymes aside and find rest in prose.

I put rhymes aside and relax into prose

وَأَجعَلُ لَفظي لِلمَعاني قَوالِباً

وَأَجعَلُ لَفظي لِلمَعاني قَوالِباً

فَأَنحَتُ مِن صَخرٍ وَأَغرِفُ مِن بَحرِ

فَأَنحَتُ مِن صَخرٍ وَأَغرِفُ مِن بَحرِ

And I make my words molds for meanings,

And make my words moulds for meanings

So I carve from rock and scoop from a sea.

So I sculpt from rock and draw from sea