محياك تهواه الحميا أما ترى — العفيف التلمساني

Your countenance—the wine itself adores it; do you not see

within the cup an ember blazing?

Were it not for her weeping, there would not have appeared upon her cheek

tears that scattered pearls strive to imitate.

I knew nothing of love’s enchantment before her,

until my eye beheld your beauty worshipped.

Whenever you sip the wine from the mouth of her cup,

do you not see it prostrating itself toward your face?

Had your essence not been unbounded throughout creation,

revealed by a bounded beauty proceeding from you,

my eye would never have witnessed your beauty openly—

and one whose eye has not beheld, how can he bear witness?

I marvel at a cup whose drink has made me sober;

through it, forever, my sobriety reels drunkenly over me.

The Names of her Essence have imposed the penalty upon me—

why, then, is the penalty not imposed on whoever sets a limit?

They saw Layla’s supple waist bend, and so they made others divine;

yet though it bends, in beauty it remains one alone.

If they seek from me denial—or else death—

then here is my blood, lawful to them; I shall not deny.