يا لَيلَتي تَزدادُ نُكرا

يا لَيلَتي تَزدادُ نُكرا

مِن حُبِّ مَن أَحبَبتُ بِكرا

مِن حُبِّ مَن أَحبَبتُ بِكرا

O my night, growing ever more dreadful,

O my night that grows stranger

from love of the maiden I loved.

With love of her whom I loved as a maiden

حَوراءُ إن نَظَرَت إلَيكَ سَقَت

حَوراءُ إن نَظَرَت إلَيكَ سَقَت

كَ سَقَتكَ بِالعَينَينِ خَمرا

كَ سَقَتكَ بِالعَينَينِ خَمرا

A dark-eyed beauty—if she looks at you, she gives

If a houri looked at you, she would give you to drink

you drink—she gives you wine through her two eyes.

As she gave you to drink wine with her eyes

وَكَأَنَّ رَجعَ حَديثِها

وَكَأَنَّ رَجعَ حَديثِها

قِطَعُ الرِياضِ كُسينَ زَهرا

قِطَعُ الرِياضِ كُسينَ زَهرا

And the echo of her speech is like

And as if the return of her talk

patches of gardens clothed in blossoms.

Were clusters of blossoms plucked from gardens

وَكَأَنَّ تَحتَ لِسانِها

وَكَأَنَّ تَحتَ لِسانِها

هاروتَ يَنفُثُ فيهِ سِحرا

هاروتَ يَنفُثُ فيهِ سِحرا

And it is as though beneath her tongue

And as if beneath her tongue

Harut were breathing magic into it.

Harut were breathing magic into it

وَتَخالُ ما جَمَعَت عَلَي

وَتَخالُ ما جَمَعَت عَلَي

هِ ثِيابَها ذَهَباً وَعِطرا

هِ ثِيابَها ذَهَباً وَعِطرا

And you would think what she has wrapped

And you’d think what she had gathered on her

her clothes around is gold and perfume.

Of gold and perfume were only her raiment

وَكَأَنَّها بَردُ الشَرا

وَكَأَنَّها بَردُ الشَرا

بِ صَفا وَوافَقَ مِنكَ فِطرا

بِ صَفا وَوافَقَ مِنكَ فِطرا

And she is like the coolness of a drink,

And as if she were spring rain

clear, coming just as you break your fast.

With serenity, created just for you

جِنِّيَّةٌ إِنسِيَّةٌ

جِنِّيَّةٌ إِنسِيَّةٌ

أَو بَينَ ذاكَ أَجَلُّ أَمرا

أَو بَينَ ذاكَ أَجَلُّ أَمرا

A jinn-woman, a human woman,

A Jinniyah or human

or something between the two, more sublime in nature.

Or something between, more wondrous still

وَكَفاكَ أَنّي لَم أُحِط

وَكَفاكَ أَنّي لَم أُحِط

بِشَكاةِ مَن أَحبَبتُ خُبرا

بِشَكاةِ مَن أَحبَبتُ خُبرا

And let it suffice you that I knew nothing

And it’s enough that I know nothing

of the illness of the one I loved,

Of the plaint of her whom I loved

إِلّا مَقالَةَ زائِرٍ

إِلّا مَقالَةَ زائِرٍ

نَثَرَت لِيَ الأَحزانَ نَثرا

نَثَرَت لِيَ الأَحزانَ نَثرا

except the words of a visitor,

Except the words of a visitor

which scattered sorrows all about me.

Who scattered sorrows broadcast for me

مُتَخَشِّعاً تَحتَ الهَوى

مُتَخَشِّعاً تَحتَ الهَوى

عَشراً وَتَحتَ المَوتِ عَشرا

عَشراً وَتَحتَ المَوتِ عَشرا

Humbled beneath love,

Humbly enslaved by passion

for ten, and beneath death for ten.

For ten years, and by death for ten

تُنسي الغَوِيَّ مَعادَهُ

تُنسي الغَوِيَّ مَعادَهُ

وَتَكونُ لِلحُكَماءِ ذِكرا

وَتَكونُ لِلحُكَماءِ ذِكرا

She makes the wayward man forget his hereafter,

It makes the heedless forget their return

and is a reminder to the wise.

And gives the wise something to remember