جُنِنتI was driven mad بِهاby her سَوداءblack لَونof complexion وَناظِرٍand eye
جُنِنت بِها سَوداء لَون وَناظِرٍ
وَياand oh طالَماhow often كانَhas been الجُنونُmadness بِسَوداءِfrom black bile
وَيا طالَما كانَ الجُنونُ بِسَوداءِ
I was driven mad by her, black of complexion and eye.
Black-haired and dark-eyed, for her love I pine,
And oh, how often madness has come from black bile!
Though oft for brunettes men lost their minds before,
وَجَدتُand I found بِهاin her بَردَthe coolness of النَعيمِbliss وَإِنand even if يَكُنmay be
وَجَدتُ بِها بَردَ النَعيمِ وَإِن يَكُن
فُؤاديَmy heart مِنهاbecause of her فيin جَحيمٍhellfire وَلأواءِand distress
فُؤاديَ مِنها في جَحيمٍ وَلأواءِ
And in her I found the coolness of bliss, though
With her I found delights past all design,
my heart, because of her, is in hellfire and distress.
Though she makes my heart burn deep in hell's core,
وَشاهَدتُand I saw مَعنىthe idea of الحُسنbeauty فيهاin her مُجَسِّداًembodied
وَشاهَدتُ مَعنى الحُسن فيها مُجَسِّداً
فَاعجبso marvel لِمَعنىat an idea صارَbecame جَوهَرَthe substance of أَشياءِthings
فَاعجب لِمَعنى صارَ جَوهَرَ أَشياءِ
And I saw the idea of beauty embodied in her;
In her I saw the meaning of beauty shine,
so marvel at an idea that became the substance of things.
A meaning made the essence of all lore,
أَطاعنةًO woman who pierces مِنfrom قَدِّهاher stature بِمثقفٍwith a straightened lance
أَطاعنةً مِن قَدِّها بِمثقفٍ
أَصَبتِyou struck true وَماand not أَغنىavailed الفَتىthe young man لبسُwearing حَصداءِclose-woven mail
أَصَبتِ وَما أَغنى الفَتى لبسُ حَصداءِ
O woman who strikes with a straightened lance fashioned from her stature,
With arrows from her heavy hips that fine,
you struck true, and wearing close-woven mail did the young man no good.
She hit her mark, though useless to fight war,
لَقَدindeed طَعَنتshe struck وَالقَلبُwhile the heart ساهٍheedless فَماso it did not دَرىknow
لَقَد طَعَنت وَالقَلبُ ساهٍ فَما دَرى
أَبالقَدِّwhether with the stature مِنهاof hers أَمor بِصَعدَةِwith a lance سَمراءِtawny
أَبالقَدِّ مِنها أَم بِصَعدَةِ سَمراءِ
Indeed, she struck while the heart was heedless, so it could not tell
She wounded me while careless of her crime,
whether with her stature or with a tawny lance.
Unsure if 'twas her hips or brown hair's power,
جُنِنتُI was driven mad بِهاby her سَوداءَblack شعرٍof hair وَناظِرٍand eye
جُنِنتُ بِها سَوداءَ شعرٍ وَناظِرٍ
وَسَمراءَand brown لَونof complexion تَزدَريshe disdains كُلَّevery بَيضاءِfair-skinned woman
وَسَمراءَ لَون تَزدَري كُلَّ بَيضاءِ
I was driven mad by her, black of hair and eye,
For black hair and eyes I lost my mind,
and brown of complexion, disdaining every fair-skinned woman.
Brunette who scorns all other girls so dour.