أَسرَعتُ لبابِكِ أَقرَعُهُ

أَسرَعتُ لبابِكِ أَقرَعُهُ

في لَيلٍ أَظلَمَ برقعُهُ

في لَيلٍ أَظلَمَ برقعُهُ

I hurried to your door to knock upon it,

I hastened to your door, knocking,

in a night whose veil had darkened.

In a night made darker by its cloak.

وَقَصيدَة شَبلي مُصغيةٌ

وَقَصيدَة شَبلي مُصغيةٌ

لِنَشيدِ فُؤادي تسمَعُهُ

لِنَشيدِ فُؤادي تسمَعُهُ

And Shibli's poem, listening attentively,

My lyrics were listening intently

heard the song of my heart.

To the anthem of my heart you invoke.

فَأَفاقَ أَبوكِ وَفي يَدِهِ

فَأَفاقَ أَبوكِ وَفي يَدِهِ

مِصباحُ الغُرفَةِ يَرفَعُهُ

مِصباحُ الغُرفَةِ يَرفَعُهُ

Then your father awoke, and in his hand

Your father woke, lamp uplifted,

was the room's lamp, which he held aloft.

Rashid responded but did not revoke.

وَأَجابَ رَشيدٌ لَم يَرجع

وَأَجابَ رَشيدٌ لَم يَرجع

وَجَميل أَواه مضجعُهُ

وَجَميل أَواه مضجعُهُ

And he answered, “Rashid has not returned,

Lovely One slept in slumber drifted,

and Jamil's bed has sheltered him.”

While desire in my liver provoke.

فَكَتَمت السرَّ وَفي كَبِدي

فَكَتَمت السرَّ وَفي كَبِدي

قَيثارُ الحَظِّ أُقَطِّعُهُ

قَيثارُ الحَظِّ أُقَطِّعُهُ

So I concealed the secret, and within my liver

I held my secret though it twisted

I was cutting the lyre of fortune to pieces.

The lyre of fortune I unyoke.

وَرَجِعتُ وَفي حُبّي خَرقٌ

وَرَجِعتُ وَفي حُبّي خَرقٌ

ثَوبٌ ما كنتُ أُرَقِّعُهُ

ثَوبٌ ما كنتُ أُرَقِّعُهُ

And I returned with a rent in my love—

I returned with a rent untwisted

a garment I had not mended.

In my love’s robe I could not sew.

مَولايَ وَفي يَدِهِ وَلد

مَولايَ وَفي يَدِهِ وَلد

ما شاءَ هَواه يلوِّعُهُ

ما شاءَ هَواه يلوِّعُهُ

My lord, with a child in his hand,

My Lord held a child He insisted,

torments him however his whim wills.

To indulge whatever whim awoke.

فَإِذا أَدناه بِتَبسمةٍ

فَإِذا أَدناه بِتَبسمةٍ

مِنهُ فَبِعُنفٍ يَدفَعُهُ

مِنهُ فَبِعُنفٍ يَدفَعُهُ

So whenever he draws him close with a smile

When with a smile he neared and twisted,

of his, he thrusts him away with force.

He pushed away with violence unsoaked.

ثَمراتُ الطُهرِ مراشِفه

ثَمراتُ الطُهرِ مراشِفه

وَغُصونُ الزَنبَقِ أَذرعُهُ

وَغُصونُ الزَنبَقِ أَذرعُهُ

His lips are the fruits of purity,

Cushions of purity enlisted,

and his arms are branches of lilies.

Branches of lilies his limbs enclosed.

وَالعَينُ بُحَيرَةُ أَحلامٍ

وَالعَينُ بُحَيرَةُ أَحلامٍ

تَتَمَوَّجُ فيها أَدمُعُهُ

تَتَمَوَّجُ فيها أَدمُعُهُ

And the eye is a lake of dreams,

An eye a lake where dreams persisted,

in which his tears ripple.

Its tears in waves serene composed.

لا أَنسى لَيلَةَ أَنشَدَني

لا أَنسى لَيلَةَ أَنشَدَني

لَحناً وَالحُبُّ يوقِّعُهُ

لَحناً وَالحُبُّ يوقِّعُهُ

I do not forget the night he sang me

I’ll not forget the night you listed,

a melody, while love gave it rhythm,

Singing a tune that love evoked.

وَالأُفقُ سَريرٌ قَد فُرِشَت

وَالأُفقُ سَريرٌ قَد فُرِشَت

فيهِ الأَزهارُ تُضَوِّعُهُ

فيهِ الأَزهارُ تُضَوِّعُهُ

and the horizon was a bed already strewn

The horizon a couch that existed,

with flowers that perfumed it.

With flowers strewn in pattern stoked.

يا هِندُ فُؤادي ذو عِلَلٍ

يا هِندُ فُؤادي ذو عِلَلٍ

فَأقلُّ جفاءٍ يوجعُهُ

فَأقلُّ جفاءٍ يوجعُهُ

O Hind, my heart suffers from ailments,

O Hind, my heart is full of illnesses,

so the slightest coldness pains it.

Show some mercy, its pain provoke!

فَاِهديهِ إِلى عَينَيكِ فَفي

فَاِهديهِ إِلى عَينَيكِ فَفي

عَينَيكِ دَواءٌ يَنفَعُهُ

عَينَيكِ دَواءٌ يَنفَعُهُ

So guide it to your eyes, for in

Guide it to your eyes, for in their wellness

your eyes is a remedy that helps it.

Lies a cure that will heal when invoked.

يا هِندُ كَفى قَلبي حِجَجٌ

يا هِندُ كَفى قَلبي حِجَجٌ

سَيَثورُ عَلَيكِ ترفُّعُهُ

سَيَثورُ عَلَيكِ ترفُّعُهُ

O Hind, my heart has had enough of arguments;

O Hind, no more excuses or jealousies,

its pride will rebel against you.

Lest its pride against you evoke!

فَاِرشيهِ بِعاطِفَةٍ يقنع

فَاِرشيهِ بِعاطِفَةٍ يقنع

فَالحجَّةُ لَيسَت تقنَعُهُ

فَالحجَّةُ لَيسَت تقنَعُهُ

So bribe it with affection: it will be content,

Comfort it with some empathy, please,

for argument does not convince it.

For excuses will not ease its cloak!