طَرِبْتُI was stirred ولمand did not تَطْربْyou feel stirred علىat حينa time مَطْرَبِrejoicing
طَرِبْتُ ولم تَطْربْ على حين مَطْرَبِ
وكيفand how التصابيfeigning youth بابنfor a man of ستَّينَsixty أشيبِgray-haired
وكيف التصابي بابن ستَّينَ أشيبِ
I was stirred, though you were not stirred in a season of joy.
I was thrilled, yet you weren't thrilled in that thrilled moment
And how can a gray-haired man of sixty play the youth?
And how can I be infatuated with a sixty year old gray-haired man
ومماand among what حداكdrove you toward الشوقَlonging نوحُthe lament of حمامةa dove
ومما حداك الشوقَ نوحُ حمامة
أرنَّتْshe wailed علىon خُوطٍa slender bough منof البانِthe ban tree أهدبِleafy
أرنَّتْ على خُوطٍ من البانِ أهدبِ
And among what stirred your longing was a dove’s lament.
And what urged you to yearn was the weeping of a dove
She wailed on a leafy bough of the ban tree,
Cooing over delicate twigs of ebony
مطوَّقةٍring-necked تبكيshe weeps ولمand did not أرَI see قبلهاbefore her
مطوَّقةٍ تبكي ولم أرَ قبلها
بداappeared ماwhatever بداappeared منof شجوهاher sorrow لمdid not تسلَّبshe dons mourning garb
بدا ما بدا من شجوها لم تسلَّب
Ring-necked and weeping—never before her had I seen one
Adorned, crying, never before had I seen
who, for all the grief she showed, had donned no mourning garb.
What appeared, appeared from her lament without being stripped away