أناI ياO صديقةُfemale friend متعبٌweary بنسائيbecause of my women
أنا يا صديقةُ متعبٌ بنسائي
فلترحميso have mercy ماwhat ظلّremains منof أشلائيmy torn limbs
فلترحمي ما ظلّ من أشلائي
I am weary of my women, my friend.
My friend, I'm so weary of women,
So have mercy on what remains of my torn limbs.
Have mercy on the remnants of my being.
مزّقتُI tore apart قَلْبِيmy heart بَيْنهنّamong them فلمْand did not أَجِدْI find
مزّقتُ قَلْبِي بَيْنهنّ فلمْ أَجِدْ
إلّاexcept اشتعالاًa burning زَادَgrew فِيin الأحشاءِthe entrails
إلّا اشتعالاً زَادَ فِي الأحشاءِ
I tore my heart apart among them, and found nothing
I tore my heart between them, but found
but a burning that grew within my entrails.
Only inflammation, fueling my innards.
ومَدَحْتُand I praised كلّevery مَلِيحةٍbeautiful woman وسَقَيْتُهاand I gave her drink
ومَدَحْتُ كلّ مَلِيحةٍ وسَقَيْتُها
عذْبَsweet الكَلامِspeech .. بسكْرَةِwith the intoxication of الصّهْبَاءِred wine
عذْبَ الكَلامِ .. بسكْرَةِ الصّهْبَاءِ
And I praised every beautiful woman and gave her drink:
I praised each beauty and quenched her thirst
sweet words, with the intoxication of red wine.
With the sweetest words...like white nectar.
حَتّىeven الدّمِيمَةthe ugly woman ماnot بَخِلْتُI was sparing بِمَدْحِهاin praising her
حَتّى الدّمِيمَة ما بَخِلْتُ بِمَدْحِها
حَسْبِيenough for me بِذَاكَin that تَنَاسُلَproliferation الأسْمَاءِthe names
حَسْبِي بِذَاكَ تَنَاسُلَ الأسْمَاءِ
Even the ugly woman—I did not stint in praising her.
Even the less fair, I did not stint praising,
That is enough for me: the proliferation of names.
Suffice it, multiplying all the names.
لاdo not تَعْجَبِيbe surprised مِنّيat me فَتِلكَfor that طَبِيعَتِيmy nature
لا تَعْجَبِي مِنّي فَتِلكَ طَبِيعَتِي
تَجْرِيflows الذّكورَةُmasculinity فيّwithin me ..مِلءfilling دِمَائِيmy blood
تَجْرِي الذّكورَةُ فيّ ..مِلء دِمَائِي
Do not be surprised at me, for that is my nature.
Do not wonder at me, such is my nature,
Masculinity courses through me, filling my blood.
Maleness flows in me...filling my blood.
رُوحِيmy soul تَرِقُgrows tender لِكُلّtoward every أُنْثَىfemale ..شَاعرٌa poet
رُوحِي تَرِقُ لِكُلّ أُنْثَى ..شَاعرٌ
أَوَمَاسَمِعتِand have you not heard ..بِرقّةِof the tenderness of الشُّعراءِthe poets ؟؟؟
أَوَمَاسَمِعتِ ..بِرقّةِ الشُّعراءِ ؟؟؟
My soul grows tender toward every woman—I am a poet.
My soul lusts for every female..a poet,
And have you not heard of the tenderness of poets?
Have you not heard..the tenderness of poets??
لِيI have فِيin بِقَاعِregions of الأرْضِthe earth ألفُa thousand عَشِيقَةٍfemale lover
لِي فِي بِقَاعِ الأرْضِ ألفُ عَشِيقَةٍ
لَمْdid not أجْفُهُنّI forsake them ..لأجْلِهَاfor her sake ..حَسْنَائِيmy beautiful one
لَمْ أجْفُهُنّ ..لأجْلِهَا ..حَسْنَائِي
I have a thousand lovers across the lands of the earth.
In every corner of earth, a thousand lovers,
I have not forsaken them for her sake—my beautiful one.
I did not deprive them..for her sake..my beauties.
أَهْلُpeople of الهَوَىlove ..يَتوَاترُونَthey pass on in succession حِكَايَتِيmy story
أَهْلُ الهَوَى ..يَتوَاترُونَ حِكَايَتِي
لتَفَرّديfor my uniqueness ..لتَسَيّديfor my mastery .. وَوفَائِيand my fidelity
لتَفَرّدي ..لتَسَيّدي .. وَوفَائِي
Lovers pass my story from one to another
The passionate..repeat my tale,
for my uniqueness, my mastery, and my fidelity.
To distinguish me..to master me..and my loyalty.
أنَاI يَاصَدِيقَةُO friend لَمْhave not أَزَلْI cease to be مُتَعَطّشاًthirsty
أنَا يَاصَدِيقَةُ لَمْ أَزَلْ مُتَعَطّشاً
عِشْقاًpassionate love وَإِنْand even if أَغْرَقْتِهاyou have flooded it .. بيدائِيmy desert
عِشْقاً وَإِنْ أَغْرَقْتِها .. بيدائِي
I, my friend, am still thirsty
My friend, I have not ceased being thirsty,
for love, even if you have flooded my desert.
For love, even if you drown me..in my oceans.