إِنّ الّتي حَكتِ الضّحى

إِنّ الّتي حَكتِ الضّحى

والصُّبحُ في أسْرِ الدّياجِي

والصُّبحُ في أسْرِ الدّياجِي

Indeed, as for her who mirrored the morning light,

She who spun tales at dawn

while dawn was captive to the night's darkness—

While morning lurked in the folds of night

ما كنتُ يومَ تعرّضتْ

ما كنتُ يومَ تعرّضتْ

لِي من حِبالتها بناجِ

لِي من حِبالتها بناجِ

I could not, the day she appeared

The day she set her traps for me

before me, escape her snare.

With her ropes of love

أدْوَتْ فؤادِي من صَبا

أدْوَتْ فؤادِي من صَبا

بتها وضنّتْ بالعلاجِ

بتها وضنّتْ بالعلاجِ

She made my heart sick with passion

She made my heart ache with yearning

for her, and withheld the cure.

And nursed it with hope

ولقد أقولُ لها وضل

ولقد أقولُ لها وضل

لَ عن النّصيحةِ مَنْ يُداجِي

لَ عن النّصيحةِ مَنْ يُداجِي

And indeed I say to her—and astray

And though I say to her, one who

from sincere counsel goes whoever dissembles—

Persists in false hope is led astray

يا حُلْوةً كم دون حُلْ

يا حُلْوةً كم دون حُلْ

وكِ للمتيَّمِ من أُجاجِ

وكِ للمتيَّمِ من أُجاجِ

O sweet one, how much stands before your sweetness—

O sweetness, how much bitterness

bitter brine for one enslaved by love!

There is for the lovesick besides you

وإذا ضَنِنْتِ فقد أسَأْ

وإذا ضَنِنْتِ فقد أسَأْ

تِ وفي يديكِ بلوغُ حاجِي

تِ وفي يديكِ بلوغُ حاجِي

And if you withhold, you have done

And when you spurn me, you have done

wrong, while the fulfillment of my desire lies in your hands.

Wrong, for my wish rests in your hands