وَلَرُبَّ لَيْلٍ بِتُّ أذْرَعُ مَسْحَه

وَلَرُبَّ لَيْلٍ بِتُّ أذْرَعُ مَسْحَه

بِذِرَاعِ فِكْرِي فِي مَجَال تَوَسْوُسِي

بِذِرَاعِ فِكْرِي فِي مَجَال تَوَسْوُسِي

And many a night I spent measuring its sackcloth cloak

Many a night whose dark embrace

With the cubit of my thought, in the realm of my anxious musings.

Stretches longer than my thoughts' reach

وَالْبَدْر مِنْ تَحْتِ السَّمَاءِ كَأنَّهُ

وَالْبَدْر مِنْ تَحْتِ السَّمَاءِ كَأنَّهُ

مِرْآةُ هِنْدٍ فِي يَدَيْ مُتَفَرّسِ

مِرْآةُ هِنْدٍ فِي يَدَيْ مُتَفَرّسِ

And the full moon beneath the sky seemed to be

And the moon beneath the sky that seems

Hind’s mirror in the hands of a keen observer.

Like an Indian mirror in the hands of one who peers