قَد حُمَّ مَن أَنا أَحميهِ فَأَفقَدَهُ

قَد حُمَّ مَن أَنا أَحميهِ فَأَفقَدَهُ

وَرداً بِوَجنَتِهِ وِردٌ لِحُمّاهُ

وَرداً بِوَجنَتِهِ وِردٌ لِحُمّاهُ

He whom I protect has fallen feverish and been robbed

He who I protect has lost me and reddened my cheeks

Fever has seized the one I guard, turning the roses of his cheeks into a watering hole for its heat.

of the roses on his cheek by a bout of his fever.

A blush for my beloved is a balm for my fever

Would that his fever were mine, redoubled—bearing a month of pain for his single day—so God might heal him,

يا لَيتَ حُمّاهُ لي كانَت مُضاعَفَةً

يا لَيتَ حُمّاهُ لي كانَت مُضاعَفَةً

يَوماً بِشَهرٍ وَأَنَّ اللَهَ عافاهُ

يَوماً بِشَهرٍ وَأَنَّ اللَهَ عافاهُ

O, if only his fever were mine, multiplied,

Oh how I wish my fever for him were doubled

That the sickness might be transferred to my own body, and God grant him recovery as the end result.

a day into a month—and God restored him to health!

A day for a month so that God may grant him health

I asked the ailment, "Why are you so attached to him?" It replied, "I desire him just as you do."

فَيُصبِحَ السُقمُ مَنقولاً إِلى جَسَدي

فَيُصبِحَ السُقمُ مَنقولاً إِلى جَسَدي

وَيَجعَلُ اللَهُ مِنهُ البُرءَ عُقباهُ

وَيَجعَلُ اللَهُ مِنهُ البُرءَ عُقباهُ

Then the sickness would be transferred to my body,

Then my sickness would transfer into my body

I swore to the sickness I remember him no more—yet how can one recall whom he never forgets?

and God would make recovery from it its final outcome.

And God would make his recovery inevitable

أَقولُ لِلسُقمِ كَم ذا قَد لَهِجتُ بِهِ

أَقولُ لِلسُقمِ كَم ذا قَد لَهِجتُ بِهِ

فَقالَ لي مِثلَما تَهواهُ أَهواهُ

فَقالَ لي مِثلَما تَهواهُ أَهواهُ

I say to the sickness, 'How much I have doted on him!'

I say to this sickness, how I have raved of you

It said to me, 'Just as you love him, I love him.'

It said to me, “I desire what you desire”

حَلَفتُ لِلسُقمِ أَنّي لَستُ أَذكُرُهُ

حَلَفتُ لِلسُقمِ أَنّي لَستُ أَذكُرُهُ

وَكَيفَ يَذكُرُهُ مَن لَيسَ يَنساهُ

وَكَيفَ يَذكُرُهُ مَن لَيسَ يَنساهُ

I swore to the sickness that I do not recall him—

I swore to the sickness I would not remember it

and how can one recall him who never forgets him?

But how can one forget what one cannot forget?