يا رُبَّ لَيلٍ بِتُّهُ

يا رُبَّ لَيلٍ بِتُّهُ

وَكَأَنَّهُ مِن وَحفِ شَعرِك

وَكَأَنَّهُ مِن وَحفِ شَعرِك

Oh, many a night have I spent,

O Lord of a night whose darkness

as though it were made of your luxuriant hair.

Is like the flowing locks of your hair

تَنهَلُّ مُزنَةُ دَمعَتي

تَنهَلُّ مُزنَةُ دَمعَتي

فيهِ وَيَندى نَورُ ذِكرِك

فيهِ وَيَندى نَورُ ذِكرِك

The rain cloud of my tear pours down

In it, the star of my tears does trickle

within it, and the blossom of remembering you grows dewy.

And the light of your remembrance does glow

أَتبَعتُ فيهِ وَقَد بَكيتُ

أَتبَعتُ فيهِ وَقَد بَكيتُ

عَقيقَ خَدِّكَ دُرَّ ثَغرِك

عَقيقَ خَدِّكَ دُرَّ ثَغرِك

In it, having wept, I followed

I followed in it after I had wept

your cheek's carnelian with your mouth's pearls.

The red coral of your cheek, the pearls of your mouth

وَشَرَقتُ فيكِ بِعَبرَةٍ

وَشَرَقتُ فيكِ بِعَبرَةٍ

قَد وَرَّدَتها نارُ هَجرِك

قَد وَرَّدَتها نارُ هَجرِك

And for you I choked on a tear

And I shone in you with a tear

that the fire of your desertion had tinged rose-red.

That was evoked by the fire of your estrangement

فَكَأَنَّما يَنفَضَّ عَن

فَكَأَنَّما يَنفَضَّ عَن

حَبَبٍ لَها رُمّانُ صَدرِك

حَبَبٍ لَها رُمّانُ صَدرِك

So it seemed: bursting open to reveal

It was as if it shook off from a love

its beads were the pomegranates of your bosom.

Whose pomegranate was your breast

وَلَرُبَّ لَيلٍ قَد صَدَعتُ

وَلَرُبَّ لَيلٍ قَد صَدَعتُ

ظَلامَهُ بِجَبينِ بَدرِك

ظَلامَهُ بِجَبينِ بَدرِك

And many a night have I cleft

And O Lord of a night in which I split

its darkness with your full moon's brow.

Its darkness with your full moon forehead

وَلَهَوتُ فيهِ بِدُرَّةٍ

وَلَهَوتُ فيهِ بِدُرَّةٍ

مَكنونَةٍ في حُقَّ خِدرِك

مَكنونَةٍ في حُقَّ خِدرِك

And in it I dallied with a pearl

And I indulged in it with a hidden pearl

hidden in the casket of your curtained chamber.

In the truth of your intoxicated temple

تَندى شَقائِقُ وَجنَتَيكِ

تَندى شَقائِقُ وَجنَتَيكِ

بِهِ وَتَنفَحُ ريحُ نَشرِك

بِهِ وَتَنفَحُ ريحُ نَشرِك

The anemones of your cheeks grow dewy

The anemones of your cheeks do glisten in it

in it, and the breeze of your fragrance wafts.

And the breeze of your scattering blows

وَقَدِ اِستَدارَ بِصَفحَتي

وَقَدِ اِستَدارَ بِصَفحَتي

سَوسانِ جيدِكِ طَلُّ دُرِّك

سَوسانِ جيدِكِ طَلُّ دُرِّك

And encircling the two sides

And the tresses of your plaited hair revolved

of your neck's lily was the dew of your pearls.

Around my page, the rising of your pearls

حَيثُ الحَبابَةُ دَمعَةٌ

حَيثُ الحَبابَةُ دَمعَةٌ

تَجري بِوَجنَةِ كاسِ خَمرِك

تَجري بِوَجنَةِ كاسِ خَمرِك

Where the bubble is a tear

Where the tear is a bubble

flowing down the cheek of your wine-cup.

Flowing down the cheek of your goblet of wine

وَتَهُزُّ مِنكِ فَتَنثَني

وَتَهُزُّ مِنكِ فَتَنثَني

بِقَضيبِ قَدِّكِ ريحُ سُكرِك

بِقَضيبِ قَدِّكِ ريحُ سُكرِك

And it sways you, so you bend—

And it shakes from you and bends

the breeze of your intoxication, stirring your figure's bough.

With the rod of your frame, the wind of your tipsiness

وَتُعَبُّ مِن رَجراجِ رِدفِكِ

وَتُعَبُّ مِن رَجراجِ رِدفِكِ

مَوجَةٌ في شَطِّ خَصرِك

مَوجَةٌ في شَطِّ خَصرِك

And from the quivering swell of your hips is quaffed

And it pains from the tinkling of your buttocks

a wave at the shore of your waist.

A wave in the shore of your waist