شَكَوتُ إِلَيها يَومَ وَدَّعَها وَجدي

شَكَوتُ إِلَيها يَومَ وَدَّعَها وَجدي

فَأَلفَيتُ مِنهُ عِندَها فَوقَ ما عِندي

فَأَلفَيتُ مِنهُ عِندَها فَوقَ ما عِندي

I complained to her of my yearning on the day she was bid farewell,

I complained to her the day I said farewell and departed

And found in her more of it than in myself.

Yet I found with her more than I had with me

وَما زالَتِ الأَجفانُ تَنثُرُ دَمعَها

وَما زالَتِ الأَجفانُ تَنثُرُ دَمعَها

عَلى خَدِّها طَوراً وَطَوراً عَلى خَدّي

عَلى خَدِّها طَوراً وَطَوراً عَلى خَدّي

And her eyelids kept scattering her tears,

And her eyelids did not cease shedding their tears

At times upon her cheek, and at times upon mine.

On her cheek again and again, and on my cheek

فَلَولا غَليلُ الشَوقِ ما كانَ طَرفُها

فَلَولا غَليلُ الشَوقِ ما كانَ طَرفُها

لِيَنضَحَ ماءَ الوَردِ مِنهُ عَلى الوَردِ

لِيَنضَحَ ماءَ الوَردِ مِنهُ عَلى الوَردِ

So, but for longing’s burning thirst, her eye would not

And were it not for the anguish of longing, her gaze

Have sprinkled rosewater from itself upon the rose.

Would not have shed the dew of roses on the rose