أُسَوِّفُ فيكَ النَفسَ لا بَل أُساوِفُ

أُسَوِّفُ فيكَ النَفسَ لا بَل أُساوِفُ

وَأَصرِفُ عَنكَ العَينَ لا بَل أُصارِفُ

وَأَصرِفُ عَنكَ العَينَ لا بَل أُصارِفُ

I put my soul off about you—no, rather, I keep stalling it.

I procrastinate with you, my soul - no, I prolong

And I turn my eye away from you—no, rather, I struggle to avert it.

And I avert my eyes from you - no, I turn them away

وَما شاقَني إِلّا مِنَ الخَصرِ مُخطَفٌ

وَما شاقَني إِلّا مِنَ الخَصرِ مُخطَفٌ

وَما راقَني إِلّا مِنَ الثَغرِ خاطِفُ

وَما راقَني إِلّا مِنَ الثَغرِ خاطِفُ

And nothing stirred my longing but the slenderness of your waist.

Nothing has saddened me except what my waist has snatched away

And nothing delighted me but the captivating charm of your mouth.

Nothing has pleased me except what my lips have seized

أَصُدُّ وَتُصديني إِلَيكَ صَبابَتي

أَصُدُّ وَتُصديني إِلَيكَ صَبابَتي

وَأَثني وَتَثنيني إِلَيكَ العَواطِفُ

وَأَثني وَتَثنيني إِلَيكَ العَواطِفُ

I turn away, yet my ardent longing draws me toward you.

I resist yet my youth draws me to you

And I turn aside, yet my affections bend me toward you.

And I incline yet my passions pull me to you

وَلَولا دُموعٌ يَكشِفُ الشَوقَ وَصفُها

وَلَولا دُموعٌ يَكشِفُ الشَوقَ وَصفُها

لَما وَصَفَ الشَوقَ الَّذي بِيَ واصِفُ

لَما وَصَفَ الشَوقَ الَّذي بِيَ واصِفُ

And were it not for tears whose description reveals longing,

Were it not for tears whose flow reveals my longing

No describer could describe the longing within me.

My longing for you would not be described by this describer

وَأَعلَمُ طُرقَ الرَأيِ لَو أَستَطيعُها

وَأَعلَمُ طُرقَ الرَأيِ لَو أَستَطيعُها

وَلَكِنَّ لي قَلباً عَلَيَّ يُخالِفُ

وَلَكِنَّ لي قَلباً عَلَيَّ يُخالِفُ

And I know the paths of sound judgment—if only I could follow them!

And I know the ways of reason if I could follow them

Yet I have a heart that rebels against me.

Yet I have a heart that goes against me

وَما سَلَفَت لي قَطُّ في الحُبِّ غِبطَةٌ

وَما سَلَفَت لي قَطُّ في الحُبِّ غِبطَةٌ

فَتُعجِبَني فيها اللَيالي السَوالِفُ

فَتُعجِبَني فيها اللَيالي السَوالِفُ

And never has happiness in love come my way,

Never in love have I had a moment of joy

To make the nights gone by delightful to me.

That pleased me during the nights of chatting

وَبَيني وَبَينَ النُجحِ مِنكَ خَلائِقٌ

وَبَيني وَبَينَ النُجحِ مِنكَ خَلائِقٌ

هِيَ البيدُ حقّاً لا الفَلا وَالتَنائِفُ

هِيَ البيدُ حقّاً لا الفَلا وَالتَنائِفُ

And between me and success with you stand traits of yours:

Between me and success with you are dispositions

They are the true deserts, not the open wastes and waterless expanses.

Truly they are calamity, not glory and denial