تَحَلَّت بِهِ مِن كَوكَبٍ لَبَّةُ الدُجى

تَحَلَّت بِهِ مِن كَوكَبٍ لَبَّةُ الدُجى

وَحَفَّ بِهِ طَرفٌ مِنَ اللَيلِ أَبلَقُ

وَحَفَّ بِهِ طَرفٌ مِنَ اللَيلِ أَبلَقُ

The hollow of darkness's throat was adorned with it—a star.

The mantle of dusk adorned it with a starry brooch

And a piebald fringe of night encircled it.

And the night draped around it a hem of darkness.

وَبِتُّ وَعِندِيَ لِلصَباحِ مُلاءَةٌ

وَبِتُّ وَعِندِيَ لِلصَباحِ مُلاءَةٌ

تَروقُ وَجَيبٌ لِلظَلامِ يُمَزَّقُ

تَروقُ وَجَيبٌ لِلظَلامِ يُمَزَّقُ

And I spent the night with a mantle of morning beside me,

I spend the night while morning has for me fresh attire

Pleasing the eye, while darkness's collar was torn open.

That casts off the murk as a garment torn apart.

يُشافِهُني مِنهُ لِسانُ اِبنِ رَملَةٍ

يُشافِهُني مِنهُ لِسانُ اِبنِ رَملَةٍ

يَبوحُ بِسِرِّ اللَيلِ وَاللَيلُ مُطرِقُ

يَبوحُ بِسِرِّ اللَيلِ وَاللَيلُ مُطرِقُ

From it, the tongue of sand's son speaks directly to me,

The tongue of Ibn Ramla comes to me whispering

Revealing night's secret while night bows its head.

Telling in secret tales of the night now hushed and bowed.

وَيَنحَرُ دوني جِنحَ دُجُنَّةٍ

وَيَنحَرُ دوني جِنحَ دُجُنَّةٍ

سِنانٌ صَقيلٌ لِلذُبالَةِ أَزرَقُ

سِنانٌ صَقيلٌ لِلذُبالَةِ أَزرَقُ

And before me a wing of deep darkness is slain

And slain before me are wings of starlings,

By the wick's polished, blue spearhead.

Blue blades honed keen to slit the throat of gloom.