رَوَتْ نَفَحَاتُ الطِّيبِ عَنْ نَسْمِةِ الصِّبَا
حَدِيثَ غَرَامٍ عَنْ سُوَيْكِنَةِ الخِبَا
Wafts of perfume recounted, from the east wind’s breath,
A tale of passion from the tent’s little dweller.
وَأَهْدَى النَّسِيمُ الحَاجِريُّ سَلاَمَهَا
فَيا لُطْفَ مَا أَهْدَى النَّسِيمُ وَمَا حَبَا
And the breeze from Hajir brought her greeting—
How sweet what the breeze brought and bestowed!
أَيَا صَاحِبي مَا لِلْحِمَى فَاحَ نَشْرُهُ
فَهَلْ سَحَبَتْ لَيْلَى ذِيولاً عَلَى الرُّبَا
O my companion, why has the sanctuary’s fragrance spread?
Has Layla, then, trailed her skirts over the hills?
فماذا الشَذا إلاَّ وقد زَار طَيْفُهَا
فأهْلاً بطَيْفٍ زارَ مِنْهَا وَمَرْحَبا
What else could this fragrance mean but that her phantom has visited?
Welcome, then, to a phantom that came from her—welcome!
فَيا طِيبَ عَيْشٍ مَرْ لِي بِفِنَائِهَا
وَلَوْ عَاد يَوْماً كَأنَ عِنْدِي أَطْيَبا
How sweet was the life I passed in her courtyard!
And were it to return one day, it would seem sweeter to me.
لَيِاليَّ أُنْسٌ كُلُّهَا سَحَرٌ بها
وَأَيَّامُ وَصْلٍ كُلُّهَا زَمَنُ الصّبا
My nights are delight, all of them the hours before dawn with her;
And days of union, all of them the season of youth.
مُمُنْعَةٌ رَفْعُ الحِجابِ وَضَوْءُهُا
كَفَاهَا فَمَا نْحتَاجُ أَنْ نَتَنَقَّبا
She is kept from lifting the veil, and her radiance
Suffices her, so we need not veil ourselves.
هِيَ الشَمْسُ إلاَّ أنْ نُورَ جَمَالِهَا
يُنَزْهُهَا في الحُسْنِ أنْ تَتَحَجْبا
She is the sun, except that the light of her beauty
Sets her, in loveliness, above being veiled.
لَئِنْ أَخْلَفَ الوَسْمِيُّ مَا حِلَ تُرْبِهَا
فقَدْ رَاحَ مِنْ دَمْعِ المُحِبْينَ يَخْصِبَا
Even if the autumn rain has failed her barren soil,
It has indeed begun to grow fertile from the lovers’ tears.
Sol 6.1