ما حَرَّكَ الشَوقُ ذِكراً مِنكَ بِالبالِ

ما حَرَّكَ الشَوقُ ذِكراً مِنكَ بِالبالِ

إِلّا وَزادَ بِهِ وَجدي وَبَلبالي

إِلّا وَزادَ بِهِ وَجدي وَبَلبالي

Longing never stirred a memory of you in my mind

My longing for you stirs no memory within

without increasing my passion and my turmoil.

But adds to my torment and inner turmoil

وَطيبُ ذِكراكَ لي أُنسٌ أَلذُّ بِهِ

وَطيبُ ذِكراكَ لي أُنسٌ أَلذُّ بِهِ

فَما أُرى عَنهُ بِالساهي وَلا السالي

فَما أُرى عَنهُ بِالساهي وَلا السالي

The sweetness of remembering you is companionship I delight in,

The sweet thought of you is joyful company

so I am never seen heedless of it or forgetful.

I'm not inclined from it, awake or dreaming

وَلَستُ أَذكُرُ هَذا كَي أَمُنَّ بِهِ

وَلَستُ أَذكُرُ هَذا كَي أَمُنَّ بِهِ

عَلى الَّذي مَوطِنُ الذِكرى لَهُ لا لي

عَلى الَّذي مَوطِنُ الذِكرى لَهُ لا لي

Nor do I mention this to hold it as a favor

And I remember not to find peace therein

over him to whom remembrance's dwelling belongs—not to me.

But because remembrance is for you, not me

فَحَظُّهُ كُلّ إِعزازٍ لَدَيَّ وَإِن

فَحَظُّهُ كُلّ إِعزازٍ لَدَيَّ وَإِن

جَفا فَحَظّي لَدَيهِ كُلُّ إِذلالي

جَفا فَحَظّي لَدَيهِ كُلُّ إِذلالي

For his lot with me is every honor, and even if

So you have all honor from me even if

he shuns me, my lot with him is utter humiliation.

You spurn me and I only humiliation

لَم يُعنَ يَوماً بِعانٍ في هَواهُ وَلَم

لَم يُعنَ يَوماً بِعانٍ في هَواهُ وَلَم

يُنقِذ بِوَصلٍ مُعَنَّىً بِاللَّظى صالي

يُنقِذ بِوَصلٍ مُعَنَّىً بِاللَّظى صالي

Never has he cared for one captive to his love, nor

You never helped a lover in passion or

rescued through union a tormented lover burning in the blaze.

Revived one felled by the sword of separation

هُوَ المُقيمُ عَلى هَجرِ المُقيمِ وَما

هُوَ المُقيمُ عَلى هَجرِ المُقيمِ وَما

جَنا قِيامَةَ لُوّامٍ وَعُذّالِ

جَنا قِيامَةَ لُوّامٍ وَعُذّالِ

He persists in forsaking the steadfast lover, and has not

You persist in avoiding one who persists

provoked an uproar of reproachers and censurers.

And never make just amends for wronging another

يُستَحسَنُ الخالُ في الخَدِّ المَليحِ وَكَم

يُستَحسَنُ الخالُ في الخَدِّ المَليحِ وَكَم

في ذا العِذارِ فَدَتكَ النَّفسُ مِن خالِ

في ذا العِذارِ فَدَتكَ النَّفسُ مِن خالِ

A mole is admired on a lovely cheek—and how many

A mole on a fair cheek is deemed beautiful

moles this cheek-down holds! May my soul be your ransom.

How many lives would be given for your moles!

يا صاحِ دَعني مِنَ الجُردِ الخُدودِ فَما

يا صاحِ دَعني مِنَ الجُردِ الخُدودِ فَما

أَهوى رِياضَ المُنى تُمنى بِإِمحالِ

أَهوى رِياضَ المُنى تُمنى بِإِمحالِ

O friend, spare me hairless cheeks, for I do not

Leave off, friend, from smooth cheeked gardens, for I

love gardens of desire blighted by barrenness.

Do not wish blooms obtained through trickery

أَما تَرى حُسنَ مِسكِيِّ العِذارِ حَكى

أَما تَرى حُسنَ مِسكِيِّ العِذارِ حَكى

مَدَبَّ ذَرٍّ فُوَيقَ الأَرضِ مُنهالِ

مَدَبَّ ذَرٍّ فُوَيقَ الأَرضِ مُنهالِ

Do you not see how the beauty of his musk-dark cheek-down resembles

See the beauty of the doe's dark mole which

the trail of tiny ants streaming just above the ground?

Sprinkled earth with dew like a pouring cloud

لَو كُنتَ تَقرَأُ خَطّاً زانَ عارِضَهُ

لَو كُنتَ تَقرَأُ خَطّاً زانَ عارِضَهُ

ما كُنت في حُبِّهِ يَوماً بِعَذّالِ

ما كُنت في حُبِّهِ يَوماً بِعَذّالِ

If you could read the script that adorns his cheek,

If you but read the writing on his brow

you would never reproach me for loving him.

You'd not blame me for loving him at all

إِنَّ الخُدودَ بِلا نَبتٍ يُزَيِّنُها

إِنَّ الخُدودَ بِلا نَبتٍ يُزَيِّنُها

رَبعُ الأَحِبَّةِ مِن سُكّانِهِ خالِ

رَبعُ الأَحِبَّةِ مِن سُكّانِهِ خالِ

Indeed, cheeks with no growth to adorn them

Cheeks without down are graced by

are the loved ones' dwelling, empty of its inhabitants.

The Beloved's beauty spot residents

لا تَحسَبَنّي رَخيصاً إِن خَضَعتُ لِمَن

لا تَحسَبَنّي رَخيصاً إِن خَضَعتُ لِمَن

أَهوى فَإِنَّ الهَوى قَد يُرخِصُ الغالي

أَهوى فَإِنَّ الهَوى قَد يُرخِصُ الغالي

Do not think me cheap if I submit to the one

Think me not cheap if I bow to my love

I love, for love may cheapen what is precious.

For passion itself can render the noble base

بي أَهيفٌ ضامِرُ الكَشحَينِ مُعتَدِلُ ال

بي أَهيفٌ ضامِرُ الكَشحَينِ مُعتَدِلُ ال

قَوامِ لا ذاتُ أسوارٍ وَخَلخالِ

قَوامِ لا ذاتُ أسوارٍ وَخَلخالِ

I am smitten with a slender man, lean-waisted, well-proportioned in

I am averse, gaunt with sunken cheeks

stature—not a woman with bracelets and an anklet.

Balanced in stature, no castle or anklet

مَتى اِنثَنى اِستَحيَتِ الأَغصانُ مِنهُ وَإِن

مَتى اِنثَنى اِستَحيَتِ الأَغصانُ مِنهُ وَإِن

رَنا رَمى الريمَ مَذعوراً بِأَحجالِ

رَنا رَمى الريمَ مَذعوراً بِأَحجالِ

Whenever he sways, the branches blush before him; and if

When he sways, branches shy from his motions

he gazes, he casts the white gazelle, terrified, into fetters.

When he sings, gazelles flee in terror

ما العَيشُ إِلّا هَوى أَحوى أَغَنَّ غَضي

ما العَيشُ إِلّا هَوى أَحوى أَغَنَّ غَضي

ضِ الطَرفِ مِن كُلِّ حُسنٍ رائِعٍ حالي

ضِ الطَرفِ مِن كُلِّ حُسنٍ رائِعٍ حالي

Life is nothing but love of one dark-lipped, sweetly nasal-voiced, with lowered

Life is but the love of one I love

eyes, adorned with every dazzling beauty.

Who delighted my downcast gaze beyond all other allure

يَزينُ حُسناً بِإِحسانٍ وَيرقُمُ حُل

يَزينُ حُسناً بِإِحسانٍ وَيرقُمُ حُل

لَةَ الجَمالِ لِمَن يَهوى بِإِجمالِ

لَةَ الجَمالِ لِمَن يَهوى بِإِجمالِ

He adorns beauty with kindness and embroiders the robe

He beautifies with kindness and traces the

of beauty, with graciousness, for the one he loves.

Line of beauty for one he loves completely

يَجنيكَ مِن خَدِّهِ وَرداً يَمُجُّ نَدىً

يَجنيكَ مِن خَدِّهِ وَرداً يَمُجُّ نَدىً

وَمِن لَماهُ رضاباً مِثلَ سَلسالِ

وَمِن لَماهُ رضاباً مِثلَ سَلسالِ

He gathers for you, from his cheek, roses that exude dew,

His cheek yields roses of heavy dew

and from his dark lips, saliva like sweet-flowing water.

His brilliance, necklaces like a chain

ما بالُ أَجفانِهِ سَكرى مُعَربِدَةً

ما بالُ أَجفانِهِ سَكرى مُعَربِدَةً

يَصرَعنَنا بِفُتورِ اللَحظِ في الحالِ

يَصرَعنَنا بِفُتورِ اللَحظِ في الحالِ

What ails his eyelids, drunken and riotous,

With half-shut drunken eyes he fells us

that they fell us at once with the languor of their glance?

With a languid glance in an instant

وَالراحُ تَطويهِ أَحياناً وَتَنشُرُهُ

وَالراحُ تَطويهِ أَحياناً وَتَنشُرُهُ

وَرِدفُهُ بَينَ إِعناتٍ وَزَلزالِ

وَرِدفُهُ بَينَ إِعناتٍ وَزَلزالِ

And wine folds him up at times and unfolds him,

The wind makes him sway and then spreads him out

and his buttocks are caught between strain and trembling.

Bouncing him between softness and tremors

ما كَسَّرَت مِنهُ جَفناً غَيرَ مُنكَسِرٍ

ما كَسَّرَت مِنهُ جَفناً غَيرَ مُنكَسِرٍ

وَلا أَمالَت قَضيباً غَيرَ مَيّالِ

وَلا أَمالَت قَضيباً غَيرَ مَيّالِ

It has made no eyelid of his droop that was not drooping already,

He's not caused an unbroken soul to break

nor bent a slender branch not already inclined to sway.

Nor bent an unbending rod.

لَكِن تَلاطَمَ مِنها خَطوُهُ فَمَشى

لَكِن تَلاطَمَ مِنها خَطوُهُ فَمَشى

بَينَ النَدامى نَزيفاً مَشيَ مُختالِ

بَينَ النَدامى نَزيفاً مَشيَ مُختالِ

But under its influence his steps collided, so he walked

Yet his gait made the tears flow

among the drinking companions, drunk, with a swaggerer's gait.

And he walked with a proud, wounded pace

لَولا التِذاذُ نَداماهُ بِرُؤيَتِهِ

لَولا التِذاذُ نَداماهُ بِرُؤيَتِهِ

لَما اِشرَأَبّوا إِلى تَشرابِ جِريالِ

لَما اِشرَأَبّوا إِلى تَشرابِ جِريالِ

Had his drinking companions not delighted in seeing him,

If not for the joy of seeing him again

they would not have craned their necks to drink deep of crimson wine.

None would have sipped of the bitter cups.