وإنّى ليَرضيني حَنانيكَ نَظرَةً

وإنّى ليَرضيني حَنانيكَ نَظرَةً

مسارِقَةً تَبدو وَلَو لَم تَبسم

مسارِقَةً تَبدو وَلَو لَم تَبسم

And indeed, a glance would satisfy me—I beg your mercy—

Your affection pleases me with a glance,

Appearing furtively, even if you do not smile.

Though fleeting, it appears without a smile.

فَلا عاذِلي يَدري وَلا أَنا قائِلُ

فَلا عاذِلي يَدري وَلا أَنا قائِلُ

وَلا أَنتَ تَخشى مِن مَلامَةِ لَومِ

وَلا أَنتَ تَخشى مِن مَلامَةِ لَومِ

So my reproacher does not know, nor do I tell,

No blamer knows, nor am I saying,

Nor do you fear the censure of reproach.

You fear no blame for blame’s reproach.

فَاِغدو قَريرَ العَينِ مِن ذَلِكَ الرِضا

فَاِغدو قَريرَ العَينِ مِن ذَلِكَ الرِضا

وَإِن كانَ في قَلبي أَجيجَ التَضَرُّمِ

وَإِن كانَ في قَلبي أَجيجَ التَضَرُّمِ

So I go about, my eyes at peace through that contentment,

So be blithe of eye from such acceptance,

Though a roaring blaze burns within my heart.

Though my heart roils with discontent.

وَقالَ وَلَم يَدرِ العَذولُ بِحالَتي

وَقالَ وَلَم يَدرِ العَذولُ بِحالَتي

وَأَينَ خِلّي البالُ مِن حالٍ مُغرَمِ

وَأَينَ خِلّي البالُ مِن حالٍ مُغرَمِ

And the reproacher said, not knowing my condition—

One said, though the censurers knew not my state,

And how far the carefree are from a lover's plight!—

Where is the heedless mind from the state of love?

أَما لَكَ رَجعٌ عَن غِوايَةِ عاشِقٍ

أَما لَكَ رَجعٌ عَن غِوايَةِ عاشِقٍ

وَهَل يَجتَني العُشّاقُ غَيرَ التَجَشُّمِ

وَهَل يَجتَني العُشّاقُ غَيرَ التَجَشُّمِ

Have you no turning back from a lover's folly?

Can you not desist from a lover’s madness?

And do lovers reap anything but hardship?

Do lovers reap aught but long-suffering?

فَقُلتُ دَعوني وَالهَوى إيما جَنى

فَقُلتُ دَعوني وَالهَوى إيما جَنى

فَعِندي حُلوٌ في رِضاهُم تَأَلُّمي

فَعِندي حُلوٌ في رِضاهُم تَأَلُّمي

So I said: Leave me with love, whatever harm it does;

I said, “Leave me to passion’s harvest,

For my suffering for their pleasure is sweet to me.

For in their pleasure lies my sweet torment.”

فَحَسبُ فُؤادي أَن يَهيمَ بِحُبِّهِم

فَحَسبُ فُؤادي أَن يَهيمَ بِحُبِّهِم

وَحَسبي أَراهُم بِالمُنى وَالتَوَهُّمِ

وَحَسبي أَراهُم بِالمُنى وَالتَوَهُّمِ

So it is enough for my heart to be lost in love for them,

My heart suffices to rave with their love,

And enough for me to see them in wishes and imagination.

And seeing them in dreams and fantasies suffices me.

وَرُبَّ وِصالٍ نِلتَهُ غَيرَ آمِلٍ

وَرُبَّ وِصالٍ نِلتَهُ غَيرَ آمِلٍ

عَلى غَيرِ وَعدٍ بَعدَ طولِ التَصَرُّمِ

عَلى غَيرِ وَعدٍ بَعدَ طولِ التَصَرُّمِ

And many a union you attained without hoping for it,

Often a union is attained unhoped for

Without a promise, after long estrangement—

After long estrangement and privation.

يُعيدُ إِلى روحي الحَياةَ نَعيمُهُ

يُعيدُ إِلى روحي الحَياةَ نَعيمُهُ

بِلَثمٍ وَرَشفٍ مِن خُدودٍ وَمَبسَمِ

بِلَثمٍ وَرَشفٍ مِن خُدودٍ وَمَبسَمِ

Its bliss restores life to my soul,

Its bliss restores life to my soul

With kissing and sipping from cheeks and a smiling mouth.

With kisses, sips, cheeks and smile.

فَذَلِكَ يَومُ العيدِ عَواذِلي

فَذَلِكَ يَومُ العيدِ عَواذِلي

تَعُضُّ بَنانَ الآسِفِ المُتَنَدِّمِ

تَعُضُّ بَنانَ الآسِفِ المُتَنَدِّمِ

So that is the feast day; my reproachers

That is the feast day, reproachers,

Bite their fingertips in sorrow and remorse.

When you bite your fingers in regret.

وأَشرَبُها راحاً مِنَ النورِ أُفرِغَت

وأَشرَبُها راحاً مِنَ النورِ أُفرِغَت

بِكَأسٍ مِنَ البِلَّورِ نيطَ بِعَندَمِ

بِكَأسٍ مِنَ البِلَّورِ نيطَ بِعَندَمِ

And I drink it as wine poured from light,

I drink ease from it poured as light

In a crystal cup bound with crimson dye.

In a crystal cup tied with vine.

يُشارِكُني فيها غَزالٌ مُهَفهَفٌ

يُشارِكُني فيها غَزالٌ مُهَفهَفٌ

إِلى أَن أَرى مَن فيهِ حُلوُ التَلَعثُمِ

إِلى أَن أَرى مَن فيهِ حُلوُ التَلَعثُمِ

A slender-waisted gazelle shares it with me,

A frolicking gazelle shares it with me

Until I see one whose stammering is sweet.

Till I see the sweet dimple of her smile.

يَكادُ سَنا بَرقُ الثَنايا يُثيرُها

يَكادُ سَنا بَرقُ الثَنايا يُثيرُها

شُعاعاً بِقُربِ الكَأسِ مِن ذَلِكَ الفَمِ

شُعاعاً بِقُربِ الكَأسِ مِن ذَلِكَ الفَمِ

His front teeth's lightning gleam almost stirs it

Her bright teeth almost arouse it

Into a ray beside the cup, from that mouth.

Like rays by the cup nearing her mouth.