لَيتَif only الَّذيthe one who خَلَقَcreated العُيونَthe eyes السوداblack
لَيتَ الَّذي خَلَقَ العُيونَ السودا
خَلَقَcreated القُلوبَthe hearts الخافِقاتِthrobbing حَديداiron
خَلَقَ القُلوبَ الخافِقاتِ حَديدا
If only he who created black eyes
If only He who created the dark eyes
Would that He who fashioned eyes of black,
Had made throbbing hearts of iron.
Had created the throbbing hearts as iron
Had forged the beating hearts of iron,
لَولاwere it not for نَواعِسُهاher languid eyes وَلَولاand were it not for سِحرُهاher enchantment
لَولا نَواعِسُها وَلَولا سِحرُها
ماnot وَدَّwould wish مالِكُthe master of قَلبِهِhis heart لَوthat صيداhe were captured
ما وَدَّ مالِكُ قَلبِهِ لَو صيدا
Were it not for her languid eyes, were it not for her spell,
Were it not for their glances and magic
Were it not for their languor and their spell,
No master of his own heart would wish to be captured.
No lover would have loved, not even an idol
No master of his heart would wish to be snared.
عَوِّذinvoke protection for فُؤادَكَyour heart مِنfrom نِبالِthe arrows of لِحاظِهاher glances
عَوِّذ فُؤادَكَ مِن نِبالِ لِحاظِها
أَوor مُتdie كَماas شءَwilled (apparently شاء) الغَرامُpassion شَهيداa martyr
أَو مُت كَما شءَ الغَرامُ شَهيدا
Invoke protection for your heart against the arrows of her glances,
Protect your heart from the arrows of her glances
Shield your heart from the arrows of her glance,
Or die a martyr, as passion wills.
Or die as love decrees you a martyr
Or die, as passion wills, a martyr.
إِنif أَنتَyou أَبصَرتَbeheld الجَمالbeauty وَلَمand did not تَهِمfall in love
إِن أَنتَ أَبصَرتَ الجَمال وَلَم تَهِم
كُنتَyou would be اِمرَأًa man خَشِنَcoarse in الطِباعِnature بَليداdull-witted
كُنتَ اِمرَأً خَشِنَ الطِباعِ بَليدا
If you behold beauty and do not fall in love,
If you saw beauty and were not tempted
For if you beheld beauty and did not fall,
You would be a coarse-natured, dull-witted man.
You would be a man of coarse nature, numb
You would be a man of coarse and dull nature.
وَإِذاand if طَلَبتَyou sought مَعَwith الصَبابَةِardent longing لَذَّةًpleasure
وَإِذا طَلَبتَ مَعَ الصَبابَةِ لَذَّةً
فَلَقَدthen indeed طَلبَتَyou sought الضائِعَthe lost المَوجوداthe present
فَلَقَد طَلبَتَ الضائِعَ المَوجودا
And if you seek pleasure along with longing,
And if with youth, you sought pleasure
And if you sought pleasure alongside pining,
Then you have sought what is lost yet present.
You would seek the unattainable
You have sought a thing lost, though it exists.
ياO وَيحَalas for قَلبيmy heart إِنَّهُindeed it فيat جانِبيmy side
يا وَيحَ قَلبي إِنَّهُ في جانِبي
وَأَظُنُّهُand I think it نائيremote المَزارِthe place visited بَعيداfar away
وَأَظُنُّهُ نائي المَزارِ بَعيدا
Alas for my heart! It is here beside me,
Oh my heart, it lies next to me
Woe to my heart! Though it lies within my chest,
Yet I think it far away, its dwelling remote.
And I think it is far from my burial site
I deem it wandering far in distant lands,
مُستَوفِزٌpoised to spring شَوقاًin longing إِلىtoward طَحبابِهِits loved ones (apparently أحبابه)
مُستَوفِزٌ شَوقاً إِلى طَحبابِهِ
المَرءُa person يَكرَهُhates أَنto يَعيشَlive وَحيداalone
المَرءُ يَكرَهُ أَن يَعيشَ وَحيدا
Poised to spring with longing for its loved ones;
Inciting longing for her cheeks
Restless with longing for its beloveds,
A person hates to live alone.
One dislikes living lonely
For a man hates to live his life alone.
بَرَأَfashioned الإِلَهُGod لَهُfor it الضُلوعَthe ribs وِقايَةًas protection
بَرَأَ الإِلَهُ لَهُ الضُلوعَ وِقايَةً
وَأَرَتهُand showed it شِقوَتُهُits misery الضُلوعَthe ribs قُيوداfetters
وَأَرَتهُ شِقوَتُهُ الضُلوعَ قُيودا
God fashioned ribs for it as protection,
God exonerated it with ribs for protection
God fashioned the ribs to be its shield,
Yet its misery showed it those ribs as fetters.
And its misfortune made the ribs fetters
But misery showed it the ribs are but chains.
فَإِذاand when هَفاflickered بَرقُthe lightning of المُنىhopes وَهَفاand it yearned لَهُtoward it
فَإِذا هَفا بَرقُ المُنى وَهَفا لَهُ
هاجَتsurged دَفائِنُهُits buried feelings عَلَيهِagainst it رُعوداthunderclaps
هاجَت دَفائِنُهُ عَلَيهِ رُعودا
And when hope's lightning flickers and the heart flutters toward it,
So when the lightning of wishes flashed for him
When the lightning of hope flashes and it flutters,
Its buried feelings surge against it as thunderclaps.
His passions raged at him like thunder
Buried secrets storm against it like thunder.
جَشَّمتُهُI burdened it with صَبراًpatience فَلَمّاthen when لَمnot يَطُقit could endure
جَشَّمتُهُ صَبراً فَلَمّا لَم يَطُق
جَشَّمتُهُI burdened it with التَصويبdescending وَالتَصعيداand ascending
جَشَّمتُهُ التَصويب وَالتَصعيدا
I burdened it with patience; when it could not endure,
I adorned it with patience but when it could not endure
I tasked it with patience, but when it could not bear,
I burdened it with descent and ascent.
I adorned it with aiming and climbing
I tasked it with heavy sighs, rising and falling.
لَوif أَستَطيعُI could وَقَيتُهُI would shield it from بَطشَthe violence of الهَوىlove
لَو أَستَطيعُ وَقَيتُهُ بَطشَ الهَوى
وَلَوِand if اِستَطاعَit could سَلاit would forget الهَوىlove مَحموداpraised
وَلَوِ اِستَطاعَ سَلا الهَوى مَحمودا
If I could, I would shield it from love's violence;
If I could protect it from love’s tyranny
Could I, I would have spared it the assault of love,
And if it could, it would forget love and be praised.
And if one could resist love’s tyranny, praiseworthy
And could it, it would have forgot love and been praised.
هِيَit نَظرَةٌa glance عَرَضَتchanced to occur فَصارَتso became فيwithin الحَشاthe breast
هِيَ نَظرَةٌ عَرَضَت فَصارَت في الحَشا
ناراa fire وَصارَand became لَهاfor it الفُؤادُthe heart وَقوداfuel
نارا وَصارَ لَها الفُؤادُ وَقودا
It was a passing glance that became within my breast
It was a glance that passed by and turned
It was a glance that passed, then lodged in the gut,
A fire, and the heart became its fuel.
My heart into fire and made it firewood
A fire for which the heart became the fuel.
وَالحُبُّand love صَوتٌa voice فَهوَso it is أَنَّةُthe moan of نائِحٍa mourner
وَالحُبُّ صَوتٌ فَهوَ أَنَّةُ نائِحٍ
طَوراat one time وَآوِنَةًand at other times يَكونُit is نَشيداa song
طَورا وَآوِنَةً يَكونُ نَشيدا
And love is a voice: it is a mourner's moan
And love is a voice, it is the wail of a mourner
Love is a voice: at times the moan of a mourner,
At times, and at other times it is a song.
At times, and at others it is a song
And at other moments, it becomes a song.
يَهَبُit grants البَواغِمَsoft-calling beasts أَلسُناًtongues صَدّاحَةًringing
يَهَبُ البَواغِمَ أَلسُناً صَدّاحَةً
فَإِذاthen when تَجَنّىit acted unjustly أَسكَتَit silenced الغِرّيداthe songster
فَإِذا تَجَنّى أَسكَتَ الغِرّيدا
It gives soft-calling beasts ringing tongues;
It makes the twittering birds eloquent
It grants the mute beasts singing tongues,
But when it deals unjustly, it silences the songster.
But when it withdraws, it silences the warbler
But when it turns cruel, it silences the nightingale.
ماwhat ليwith me أُكَلِّفُI burden مُهجَتيmy soul كَتمَconcealing الأَسىsorrow
ما لي أُكَلِّفُ مُهجَتي كَتمَ الأَسى
إِنif طالَlengthened عَهدُthe age of الجُرحِthe wound صارَit became صَديداpus
إِن طالَ عَهدُ الجُرحِ صارَ صَديدا
Why do I burden my soul with hiding sorrow?
Why do I task my love to conceal sorrow?
Why do I force my soul to hide its grief?
If a wound lingers long, it turns to pus.
If the wound's breach lasts long, it becomes malignant
If the wound is long kept, it turns to festering pus.
وَيَلَذُّand it pleases نَفسيmy soul أَنto تَكونَbe شَقِيَّةًwretched
وَيَلَذُّ نَفسي أَن تَكونَ شَقِيَّةً
وَيَلَذُّand it pleases قَلبيmy heart أَنto يَكونَbe عَميداlove-stricken
وَيَلَذُّ قَلبي أَن يَكونَ عَميدا
And my soul delights in being wretched,
And my soul delights in being wretched
My soul finds pleasure in being wretched,
And my heart delights in being stricken with love.
And my heart delights in being steadfast
And my heart finds delight in being enthralled.
إِنif كُنتَyou are تَدريyou know ماwhat الغَرامُpassion فَداوِنيthen heal me
إِن كُنتَ تَدري ما الغَرامُ فَداوِني
أَوor لاnot فَخَلِّthen leave off العَذلreproach وَالتَفنيداand fault-finding
أَو لا فَخَلِّ العَذل وَالتَفنيدا
If you know what passion is, then heal me;
If you know what love is, then cure me
If you know what passion is, then cure me,
Or if not, leave off reproach and fault-finding.
Or else refrain from rebuke and denial
If not, then cease your blame and refutation.
ياO هِندُHind قَدalready أَفنىhas exhausted المَطالُdelay تَصَبُّريmy effort to be patient
يا هِندُ قَد أَفنى المَطالُ تَصَبُّري
وَفَنَيتُand I wasted away حَتّىuntil ماnot أَخافُI fear مَزيداanything more
وَفَنَيتُ حَتّى ما أَخافُ مَزيدا
O Hind, delay has exhausted my patience;
O Hind, hopes have exhausted my patience
O Hind, delay has exhausted my patience,
And I have wasted away, till I fear nothing more.
And I am exhausted, fearing no further calamity
And I have withered until I fear no further pain.
ماnot هَذِهِthese البيضُwhite hairs الَّتيthat أَبصَرتُهاI saw them
ما هَذِهِ البيضُ الَّتي أَبصَرتُها
فيin لِمَّتيmy locks إِلّاexcept اللَياليthe nights السوداblack
في لِمَّتي إِلّا اللَيالي السودا
These white hairs that I have seen
What is this whiteness that I see
What is this whiteness I have seen,
Among my locks are nothing but the black nights.
In my beard, but the dark nights?
Upon my temples, but the darkness of nights?
ماnot شِبتُI grew gray مِنfrom كِبَرold age وَلَكِنَّbut الَّذيwhat
ما شِبتُ مِن كِبَر وَلَكِنَّ الَّذي
حَمَّلتِyou laid upon نَفسيmy soul حَمَّلتُهُI laid it upon الفوداthe hair at the temples
حَمَّلتِ نَفسي حَمَّلتُهُ الفودا
I have not grown gray from age; rather, what
I have not grown old with age
I did not turn gray from age, but that with which
You laid upon my soul, I laid upon the hair at my temples.
But that which I burdened myself with has bent my back
You burdened my soul, I have burdened my temples.
هَذاthis الَّذيwhat أَبلىwore out الشَبابyouth وَرَدَّهُand returned it
هَذا الَّذي أَبلى الشَباب وَرَدَّهُ
خَلقاthreadbare وَجَعَّدَand wrinkled جَبهَتيmy brow تَجعيداthoroughly
خَلقا وَجَعَّدَ جَبهَتي تَجعيدا
This is what wore youth away and left it
This is what has worn out my youth and dispelled it
This is what wore out youth and returned it
Threadbare, and deeply wrinkled my brow.
In creation, and furrowed my brow in folds
In tatters, and carved deep wrinkles on my brow.
عَلَّمتِyou taught عَينيmy eye أَنto تَسُحَّstream دُموعُهاits tears
عَلَّمتِ عَيني أَن تَسُحَّ دُموعُها
بِالبُخلِthrough miserliness عَلَّمتِyou taught البَخيلَthe miser الجوداgenerosity
بِالبُخلِ عَلَّمتِ البَخيلَ الجودا
You taught my eye to pour out its tears;
You taught my eyes to wipe their tears stingily
You taught my eye to pour forth its tears;
Through miserliness, you taught the miser generosity.
You taught the stingy man generosity!
Through stinginess, you taught the miser generosity.
وَمَنَعتِand you prevented قَلبيmy heart أَنfrom يَقَرَّsettling قَرارَهُits repose
وَمَنَعتِ قَلبي أَن يَقَرَّ قَرارَهُ
وَلَقَدand indeed يَكونُit can be عَلىagainst الخُطوبِcalamities جَليداsteadfast
وَلَقَد يَكونُ عَلى الخُطوبِ جَليدا
And you kept my heart from settling in peace,
And you prevented my heart from settling
You forbade my heart to rest in its place,
Though it can be steadfast against calamities.
And it can be cold to calamities
Though it was once steadfast against calamity.
دَلَّهَتنيshe bewildered me وَحَمَيتِand you denied جَفنيmy eyelid غَمضَهُits closing
دَلَّهَتني وَحَمَيتِ جَفني غَمضَهُ
لاnot يُستَطاعُis possible مَعَamid الهُمومِcares هُجوداsleep
لا يُستَطاعُ مَعَ الهُمومِ هُجودا
She bewildered me, and you denied my eyelid its closing;
You seduced me, and protected my eyelid from closing
You drove me mad and denied my eyelid sleep;
Sleep is impossible amid cares.
With sorrows, prostration cannot be endured
Slumber is impossible amidst such cares.
لاdo not تَعجَبيmarvel أَنَّthat الكَواكِبَthe stars سُهَّدٌsleepless
لا تَعجَبي أَنَّ الكَواكِبَ سُهَّدٌ
فَأَناfor I الَّذيthe one who عَلَّمتُهاtaught them التَسهيداkeeping awake
فَأَنا الَّذي عَلَّمتُها التَسهيدا
Do not marvel that the stars are sleepless;
Do not wonder that the planets are compliant to me
Do not marvel that the stars are sleepless,
For I am the one who taught them sleeplessness.
I am the one who taught them compliance
For I am the one who taught them how to wake.
أَسمَعتُهاI made them hear وَصفَthe description of الصَبابَةِardent longing فَاِنثَنَتso they turned away
أَسمَعتُها وَصفَ الصَبابَةِ فَاِنثَنَت
وَكَأَنَّماand as though وَطِئَtrod الحُفاةُthe barefoot صُروداcold, exposed ground
وَكَأَنَّما وَطِئَ الحُفاةُ صُرودا
I told them of longing, and they turned away,
I heard her describe the charms of youth
I told them the tale of passion, and they recoiled,
As though barefoot folk had trodden cold, exposed ground,
And it curled up as if the barefoot had stepped on thorns
As if the barefoot trod upon frozen heights,
مُتَعَثِّراتٍstumbling بِالظَلامِin the darkness كَأَنَّماas though
مُتَعَثِّراتٍ بِالظَلامِ كَأَنَّما
حالَturned into الظَلامُthe darkness أَساوِداblack serpents وَأُسوداand lions
حالَ الظَلامُ أَساوِدا وَأُسودا
Stumbling through the dark, as though
Stumbling in the darkness as if
Stumbling through the darkness, as if
The darkness had turned to black serpents and lions.
The darkness had turned ashen and black
The dark had turned to vipers and to lions.
وَأَنَّهاand that they عَرِفَتknew مَكانَكَyour place فيin الثَرىthe earth
وَأَنَّها عَرِفَت مَكانَكَ في الثَرى
صارَتbecame زَواهِرُهاtheir bright ones عَلَيكِupon you عُقوداnecklaces
صارَت زَواهِرُها عَلَيكِ عُقودا
And they knew your place upon the earth;
And that she knew your place in the earth
And because they knew your place upon the earth,
Their bright ones became necklaces upon you.
So its flowers have garlanded you
Their shining lights became necklaces for you.
أَنتِyou الَّتيthe one who تُنسيmake forget الحَوائِجَneeds أَهلَهاtheir owners
أَنتِ الَّتي تُنسي الحَوائِجَ أَهلَها
وَأَخاand the master of البَيانِeloquence بَيانَهُhis eloquence المَعهوداaccustomed
وَأَخا البَيانِ بَيانَهُ المَعهودا
You are she who makes people forget their needs,
You who make people forget their worries
You are the one who makes men forget their needs,
And the master of eloquence his accustomed eloquence.
And the most eloquent orator his usual eloquence
And makes the orator forget his eloquence.
ماnot شِمتُI beheld حُسنَكَyour beauty قَطُّever إِلّاexcept that راعَنيit awed me
ما شِمتُ حُسنَكَ قَطُّ إِلّا راعَني
فَوَدِدتُso I wished لَوthat رُزِقَwere granted الجَمالُbeauty خُلوداimmortality
فَوَدِدتُ لَو رُزِقَ الجَمالُ خُلودا
Never have I beheld your beauty but it awed me,
I have never sensed your beauty but it shook me
I never glimpsed your beauty but it awed me,
So I wished that beauty were granted immortality.
And I wished beauty was granted eternity
And I wished that beauty were granted immortality.
وَإِذاand when ذَكَرتُكِI remembered you هَزَّshook ذِكرَكِthe remembrance of you أَضلُعيmy ribs
وَإِذا ذَكَرتُكِ هَزَّ ذِكرَكِ أَضلُعي
شَوقاًwith longing كَماas هَزَّshook النَسيمُthe breeze بُنوداbanners
شَوقاً كَما هَزَّ النَسيمُ بُنودا
And when I remember you, the thought of you shakes my ribs
And when I mention you, the mention of you shakes my ribs
When I remember you, your memory shakes my ribs
With longing, as the breeze shakes banners.
With longing as the breeze shook the wet clothes
With longing, as the breeze shakes the banners.
فَحَسِبتُso I thought سِقطَthe fallen drops of الطَلِّdew ذَوبَthe melt of مَحاجِريmy eye sockets
فَحَسِبتُ سِقطَ الطَلِّ ذَوبَ مَحاجِري
لَوif كانَwere دَمعُthe tears of العاشِقينَlovers نَضيداarranged in rows
لَو كانَ دَمعُ العاشِقينَ نَضيدا
So I took the fallen dew for the melt of my eye sockets,
I reckoned the melted pearls were my tears
I thought the falling dew was my melting eyes,
If lovers' tears were arranged in rows.
If only the tears of lovers were molten lead
If only lovers' tears were strung like pearls.
وَظَنَنتُand I thought خافِقَةَswaying الغُصونِthe branches أَضالِعاًribs
وَظَنَنتُ خافِقَةَ الغُصونِ أَضالِعاً
وَثِمارَهُنَّand their fruits القانِياتِdeep-red كُبوداlivers
وَثِمارَهُنَّ القانِياتِ كُبودا
And I imagined the swaying branches as ribs,
And I fancied the fluttering of the boughs were ribs
And I imagined the fluttering branches were ribs,
And their deep-red fruits as livers.
And their ripe fruit, cherries
And their deep red fruits were bleeding hearts.
وَأَرىand I see خَيالَكَyour image كُلَّevery تَرفَةِblink (apparently طرفة) ناظِرٍa watching eye
وَأَرى خَيالَكَ كُلَّ تَرفَةِ ناظِرٍ
وَمِنَand among العَجائِبِwonders أَنthat أَراهُI see it جَديداnew
وَمِنَ العَجائِبِ أَن أَراهُ جَديدا
And I see your image with every blink of an eye,
And I see your image with every glance of the eye
I see your phantom in every blink of the eye,
And it is a wonder that I see it as new.
And it amazes me that I see it renewed
And marvel that I see it ever new.
وَإِذاand when سَمِعتُI heard حِكايَةًa tale عَنabout عاشِقٍa lover
وَإِذا سَمِعتُ حِكايَةً عَن عاشِقٍ
عَرَضاًby chance حَسِبتُنيI thought myself الفَتىthe young man المَقصوداmeant
عَرَضاً حَسِبتُني الفَتى المَقصودا
And when I hear a tale about a lover
And when I hear a tale of a lover
And if I hear a tale about a lover,
In passing, I think myself the young man meant.
I fancy myself as the intended man
By chance, I deem myself the youth intended.
مُستَيقِظawake وَيَظُنُّand he thinks أَنّيthat I نائِمٌasleep
مُستَيقِظ وَيَظُنُّ أَنّي نائِمٌ
ياO هِندُHind قَدindeed صارَhas become الذُهولُbewilderment جُموداfrozen stillness
يا هِندُ قَد صارَ الذُهولُ جُمودا
Awake, yet he thinks that I am asleep;
Awake and fancying that I am asleep
Awake, yet one would think that I am sleeping;
O Hind, bewilderment has become frozen stillness.
O Hind, bewilderment has become inertia
O Hind, my stupor has turned to stone-stillness.
وَلَقَدand indeed يَكونُthere may be لِيَfor me السُلُوُّforgetfulness عَنِfrom الهَوىlove
وَلَقَد يَكونُ لِيَ السُلُوُّ عَنِ الهَوى
لَكِنَّماbut خُلِقَwas created المُحِبُّthe lover وَدوداloving
لَكِنَّما خُلِقَ المُحِبُّ وَدودا
And I may indeed find release from passion,
And keeping aloof from love can be for me
Perhaps I could find solace from this love,
Yet the lover was created loving.
But the lover was created affectionate
But the lover was created to be fond.