أنسيم هل للصلح عندك موضع
فيزور طيف أو تهب نسيمُ
O Nasīm, has reconciliation any place to pitch its tent with you,
O Nasim, have you room for reconciliation,
so that a phantom might visit—or you might waft this way, Nasīm?
So that a phantom may visit or a breeze may blow?
والشيب دونك وهو موت مضمر
والهجر وهو تفرق مكتوم
Gray hair stands between us—it is death concealed—
And gray hair bars the way to you—a concealed death—
and estrangement—it is a separation kept secret.
And estrangement—a parting kept secret.
بيني وبين الراح مثل حبابها
دمع على وجناتها منظوم
Between me and the wine—like her bubbles—are
Between me and the wine, like its bubbles,
tears strung like beads upon her cheeks.
Are tears strung upon its cheeks.
Sol 6.1