قَمَرٌa moon بِدَيْرِat the monastery of الموصِلِMosul الأَعْلىthe upper
قَمَرٌ بِدَيْرِ الموصِلِ الأَعْلى
أَناI عَبْدُهُhis slave وهَواهُand love for him ليfor me مَوْلىa master
أَنا عَبْدُهُ وهَواهُ لي مَوْلى
A moon at the Monastery of Upper Mosul—
A moon at the Upper Monastery of Mosul.
I am his slave, and his love is my master.
I am his slave, and love for him is my master.
لَثَمَhe kissed الصَّليبَthe cross فَقُلْتُso I said مِنْout of حَسَدٍenvy
لَثَمَ الصَّليبَ فَقُلْتُ مِنْ حَسَدٍ
قُبَلُkisses الحَبيبof the beloved فَميmy mouth بِهاto them أَوْلىmore entitled
قُبَلُ الحَبيب فَمي بِها أَوْلى
He kissed the cross; in jealousy I said:
He kissed the cross, so I said out of envy:
“My mouth has a better claim to the beloved’s kisses.
“My mouth has a greater claim to the beloved’s kisses.
جُدْbe generous ليto me بِإِحْداهُنَّwith one of them كَيْso that يَحْياmay live بِهاthrough it
جُدْ لي بِإِحْداهُنَّ كَيْ يَحْيا بِها
قَلْبيmy heart فَحَبَّتُهُfor its core عَلىon المَقْلىthe frying pan
قَلْبي فَحَبَّتُهُ عَلى المَقْلى
Bestow one of them on me, that it may revive
Grant me one of them, so it may revive
my heart, whose very core lies on the brazier.”
my heart, for its core lies on the frying pan.”
فَاحْمَرthen he blushed مِنْfrom خَجَلٍshyness وَكَمْand how often قَطَفَتْplucked
فَاحْمَر مِنْ خَجَلٍ وَكَمْ قَطَفَتْ
عَيْنَيmy eyes شَقائِقَanemones وَجْنَةٍa cheek خَجْلىbashful
عَيْنَي شَقائِقَ وَجْنَةٍ خَجْلى
He reddened with shame—and how many times
Then he blushed with shyness—and how often have
have my eyes plucked anemones from a bashful cheek!
my eyes plucked anemones from a bashful cheek!
وثَكِلْتُand I was bereaved of صَبْريmy patience عِنْدَat فرْقَتِهِhis departure
وثَكِلْتُ صَبْري عِنْدَ فرْقَتِهِ
فَعَرَفْتُso I learned كَيْفَhow تَحَرَّقburns with grief الثَّكْلىthe bereaved mother
فَعَرَفْتُ كَيْفَ تَحَرَّق الثَّكْلى
Bereft of patience when he departed,
And I was bereaved of my patience at his departure;
I learned how a bereaved mother burns.
so I learned how a bereaved mother burns with grief.
