تَقولُ لي وَأَماقيها مُطفّحةٌ

تَقولُ لي وَأَماقيها مُطفّحةٌ

مَن ذا أَبانَ على صبغِ الدُّجى قَبَسا

مَن ذا أَبانَ على صبغِ الدُّجى قَبَسا

She says to me, the corners of her eyes brimming with tears:

You say to me, while your eyelids are swollen,

Who made a flame appear upon the dye of night?

"Who made clear in the darkness of night a spark?"

مَن ذا الّذي عَلَّ مِن فَوْدَيك لونَهما

مَن ذا الّذي عَلَّ مِن فَوْدَيك لونَهما

وَسلّ حسنك فيما سلَّ أو خَلَسا

وَسلّ حسنك فيما سلَّ أو خَلَسا

Who drained the color from both your temple-locks,

Who taught the hue of your cheeks its coloring,

And stripped away your beauty along with what he stripped or stole?

And threaded your beauty wherever it wove or hid?

ما لي أَراكَ ونورُ البدر منكسفٌ

ما لي أَراكَ ونورُ البدر منكسفٌ

في وجنيتك وخطٌّ فيهما طُمِسا

في وجنيتك وخطٌّ فيهما طُمِسا

Why do I see you, the full moon's light eclipsed

Why do I see you with the moonlight eclipsed

Upon your cheeks, and a line on both effaced?

In your cheeks, though a line therein is erased?

كَأنَّما أَنتَ رَبْعٌ ضلّ ساكنُهُ

كَأنَّما أَنتَ رَبْعٌ ضلّ ساكنُهُ

أَو مَنزلٌ عَطَلٌ من أهله دَرَسا

أَو مَنزلٌ عَطَلٌ من أهله دَرَسا

You are like a campsite whose dweller has gone astray,

You seem a quarter whose dweller is lost,

Or a dwelling, empty of its people, fallen into ruin.

Or a house abandoned by its people and left to decay.

ما ضَرَّ شَيباً وَقَد وافى بِمَنظرهِ

ما ضَرَّ شَيباً وَقَد وافى بِمَنظرهِ

تقذَى النّواظرُ لَو أَبطا أَو اِحتَبسا

تقذَى النّواظرُ لَو أَبطا أَو اِحتَبسا

What harm would gray hair have suffered—now here, its appearance

What harm in white hair, if its sight

Offending the eyes—had it delayed or held back?

Sates gazing eyes, wherever it might tarry or withhold?

أَما عَلمتَ بأنّا معشرٌ جُزُعٌ

أَما عَلمتَ بأنّا معشرٌ جُزُعٌ

نقلِي الصَّباحَ وَنَهوى دونه الغَلَسا

نقلِي الصَّباحَ وَنَهوى دونه الغَلَسا

Have you not learned that we are a fretful people,

Do you not know we are a folk quick to despair,

Who hate the morning and prefer the darkness before dawn?

Who spurn the morn and pine for its eve?

فَقلتُ ما كان مِن شَيءٍ عصيتُ به

فَقلتُ ما كان مِن شَيءٍ عصيتُ به

رَبّي وإنْ ساءَ منّي القلبُ محترسا

رَبّي وإنْ ساءَ منّي القلبُ محترسا

I said: It was nothing by which I disobeyed

So I said, no act have I done disobeying

My Lord, even if my heart proved a poor guardian.

My Lord, though my heart be on its guard and despairing.

وَما الشّبيبة إلّا لُبْسَةٌ نُزِعَتْ

وَما الشّبيبة إلّا لُبْسَةٌ نُزِعَتْ

بُدِّلتُ منها فلا تستنكري اللُّبَسا

بُدِّلتُ منها فلا تستنكري اللُّبَسا

And youth is nothing but a garment taken off;

Youth is but a garment doffed,

I was given another in its place, so do not find the garments strange.

Exchanged for what makes you disdain its exchange.

وَفيَّ كلُّ الّذي تهوين من جَلَدٍ

وَفيَّ كلُّ الّذي تهوين من جَلَدٍ

فما أبالي أقام الشّيبُ أم جلسا

فما أبالي أقام الشّيبُ أم جلسا

And in me is all the strength you desire;

Blame me for all you disdain of firmness!

So I care not whether gray hair stands or sits.

What care I if white hair stays or goes?

لا تَطلبي اللّهوَ منّي وَالمشيبُ علا

لا تَطلبي اللّهوَ منّي وَالمشيبُ علا

رأسي فإنّ قعودَ اللّهو قد شَمسا

رأسي فإنّ قعودَ اللّهو قد شَمسا

Do not seek dalliance from me, now that gray hair has risen

Seek not frivolity from me now white hair

Upon my head, for the young camel of dalliance has grown restive.

Has crowned my head! To sit in frivolity has grown stale.

وَلا ترومي الّذي عُوِّدتِ من مَلَقٍ

وَلا ترومي الّذي عُوِّدتِ من مَلَقٍ

فكلُّ ما لان مِن قلبي الغَداة قسا

فكلُّ ما لان مِن قلبي الغَداة قسا

And do not seek the sweet talk you were accustomed to;

Do not expect from me what you were accustomed to of sweet talk.

For all that was soft in my heart has hardened this morning.

All that was pliant in my heart has grown stiff come morning.