هَوى الحبِّ ريحانٌ وَرَوحٌ لِأَهلِهِ

هَوى الحبِّ ريحانٌ وَرَوحٌ لِأَهلِهِ

وَإِن نَضَجَت أَكبادُهُم بِلَظاهُ

وَإِن نَضَجَت أَكبادُهُم بِلَظاهُ

Love’s passion is sweet basil and repose for its people,

The scent of love is a respite and relief to its people

The passion of love is sweet basil and repose for its people,

even if their livers are cooked by its blaze.

Though their livers have matured because of its bitterness

Even if their vitals are seared by its blazing fire.

هَريقوا دَمي في حَقِّ حُبِّكُمُ فَما

هَريقوا دَمي في حَقِّ حُبِّكُمُ فَما

أَرى الحبَّ إِلّا أَن يبيحَ أَخاهُ

أَرى الحبَّ إِلّا أَن يبيحَ أَخاهُ

Shed my blood as love of you demands, for I do not

Shed my blood truthfully for your love, for

Shed my blood for the right of your love, for I do not

see love as anything but permitting its brother to be slain.

I see not love except in one who makes his brother lawful to him

See love as anything but the making lawful of its brother's blood.

هَنيئاً مَريئاً في الهَوى لَكُمُ دَمي

هَنيئاً مَريئاً في الهَوى لَكُمُ دَمي

رِضاكُم عَنِ الصَبِّ العَميدِ رِضاهُ

رِضاكُم عَنِ الصَبِّ العَميدِ رِضاهُ

May my blood be pleasant and wholesome to you in passion.

Congratulations on a love in which my blood is held in high esteem

May my blood be a wholesome feast for you in love;

Your satisfaction with the pining, stricken lover is his satisfaction.

Your pleasure in steadfast passion is its pleasure

Your contentment with the lovesick, smitten soul is his contentment.

هَجَرتُم وَخُنتُم عَهدَ مَن لَم يَخُنكُمُ

هَجَرتُم وَخُنتُم عَهدَ مَن لَم يَخُنكُمُ

وَقُلتُم مَلولٌ وَالمَلولُ سِواهُ

وَقُلتُم مَلولٌ وَالمَلولُ سِواهُ

You abandoned me and betrayed the pledge of one who never betrayed you,

You estranged and betrayed one who did not betray you

You abandoned and betrayed the covenant of one who never betrayed you,

and said, “He is fickle,” though the fickle one is someone else.

And you said, “I am weary,” but none is weary save he

And you claimed he was fickle, while the fickle one is other than he.

هَدَمتُم بِناءَ الحُبِّ مِنّا بِهَجرِكُم

هَدَمتُم بِناءَ الحُبِّ مِنّا بِهَجرِكُم

وَفي مِثلِكُم يرضي الحَليمُ صباهُ

وَفي مِثلِكُم يرضي الحَليمُ صباهُ

You demolished our edifice of love by your desertion,

You destroyed the edifice of love from us by estranging

You demolished the edifice of our love through your abandonment,

and for the likes of you, the sober-minded man indulges his youthful passion.

And by the likes of you the forbearing pleases his youth

Yet for the likes of you, the prudent man indulges his youthful folly.

هَدى اللَهُ قَلبي لِلهَوى وَأَضَلَّهُ

هَدى اللَهُ قَلبي لِلهَوى وَأَضَلَّهُ

وَلَو شاءَ مِن بَعدِ الضَلالِ هَداهُ

وَلَو شاءَ مِن بَعدِ الضَلالِ هَداهُ

God guided my heart to passion and led it astray,

God guided my heart to passion and led it astray

God guided my heart to passion and led it astray,

and had He wished, He would have guided it after its straying.

And had He willed after error, He would have guided it

And had He willed, after its straying, He would have guided it home.

هَوىً عُذرُهُ أَدنى هَوايَ وَإِنَّما

هَوىً عُذرُهُ أَدنى هَوايَ وَإِنَّما

بَلِيَّةُ مَن يَهوى بِقَدرِ هَواهُ

بَلِيَّةُ مَن يَهوى بِقَدرِ هَواهُ

A passion whose excuse is the least of my own passion; for

A passion whose excuse is less than my passion, but

A passion whose excuse is the least of my desire, for truly,

a lover’s affliction is only in proportion to his passion.

The affliction of one who loves is according to his passion

The affliction of the lover is in proportion to his love.

هُمومٌ جَلَبنَ الشَيبَ قَبلَ أَوانه

هُمومٌ جَلَبنَ الشَيبَ قَبلَ أَوانه

وَصَدَّعنَ قَلباً لا يُغَضُّ صَفاهُ

وَصَدَّعنَ قَلباً لا يُغَضُّ صَفاهُ

Sorrows brought gray hair before its time,

Sorrows brought gray hair before its time

Sorrows that summoned gray hair before its time,

and split a heart whose rock could not be worn down.

And cracked a heart whose clarity cannot be disturbed

And cracked a heart whose solid rock was unyielding.

هَرِمتُ وَشابَت لِمَّتي غَيرَ أَنَّني

هَرِمتُ وَشابَت لِمَّتي غَيرَ أَنَّني

فَتى الحُبِّ وَالشَيخ الظَريف فَتاهُ

فَتى الحُبِّ وَالشَيخ الظَريف فَتاهُ

I have grown old, and my locks have grayed, yet I am

I grew old but my love-madness grew young except that I am

I have grown old and my locks have turned white, yet I remain

a youth in love—and the refined old man is love’s youth.

The gallant of love and its graceful elder its youth

The young hero of love, for the elegant elder is but a youth in love.

هَزَمتُ جُيوشَ الصَبرِ في مَعرَكِ الهَوى

هَزَمتُ جُيوشَ الصَبرِ في مَعرَكِ الهَوى

وَقَصَّرتُ في الهَيجاءِ طولَ قَناهُ

وَقَصَّرتُ في الهَيجاءِ طولَ قَناهُ

I defeated the armies of patience on passion’s battlefield,

I defeated armies of patience in the battle of love

I defeated the armies of patience in the battle of passion,

and in the fray cut short the length of its spears.

And fell short praising it however long I praised it

And in the fray, I shattered the length of its spear.