هَلْ لِمُعاني الهوى دَواء

هَلْ لِمُعاني الهوى دَواء

أمْ هل لِعاني الهَوى فِداءُ

أمْ هل لِعاني الهَوى فِداءُ

Is there a cure for one who suffers love?

Is there a cure for the pangs of love,

Or is there a ransom for love's captive?

Or is there any ransom for the lover's anguish?

وما لِدَمعي يعودُ نَاراً

وما لِدَمعي يعودُ نَاراً

من شدّة الشّوْق وهْوَ ماءُ

من شدّة الشّوْق وهْوَ ماءُ

And why do my tears turn to fire

Why does my tear turn into fire,

from the intensity of longing, though they are water?

From intense yearning though it's but water?

لا عَيْشَ للصَّبّ مُذَ تَرَاءتْ

لا عَيْشَ للصَّبّ مُذَ تَرَاءتْ

لَهُ دُوَيْن الحِمى ظِباءُ

لَهُ دُوَيْن الحِمى ظِباءُ

The lovesick man has had no life since there appeared

No life's left for one in love since

to him, just outside the sanctuary, gazelles.

The two haboobs of fever blew,

صادت فُؤادي وما ارْتمته

صادت فُؤادي وما ارْتمته

مِنها قَنَاة لها رُواءُ

مِنها قَنَاة لها رُواءُ

She captured my heart, though it was not struck

It has saddened my heart, and no canal from it

by any spear of hers, lovely to behold.

Brought it any solace or drink,

كَأنَّها إذْ مَشَتْ قَطَاةٌ

كَأنَّها إذْ مَشَتْ قَطَاةٌ

كأنّها إذْ بَدَتْ ذُكَاءُ

كأنّها إذْ بَدَتْ ذُكَاءُ

When she walked, she was like a sandgrouse;

As if when she walks, she's but a gazelle calf,

when she appeared, she was like Dhukāʾ, the sun.

And when she appears, she's a shining full moon,

يقولُ قَوْم تَعَزّ عَنْهَا

يقولُ قَوْم تَعَزّ عَنْهَا

كَيْفَ وقد عَزّني العَزاءُ

كَيْفَ وقد عَزّني العَزاءُ

Some people say, 'Take comfort and forget her.'

Some folks too proud to seek her say,

How, when consolation has eluded me?

How could that be, when sorrow has given me pride?

فَلم تَحِد عن حُبّها فأسلو

فَلم تَحِد عن حُبّها فأسلو

وليس لي في الهوَى ادّعاءُ

وليس لي في الهوَى ادّعاءُ

So there has been no turning from loving her that would let me forget,

I did not refrain from loving her, so question me,

and there is no pretence in my love.

And in love I have no pretensions,

وَهَبْتُ للغانِيات ذَحْلِي

وَهَبْتُ للغانِيات ذَحْلِي

فَلْيَصْنَع الحُبُّ مَا يشاءُ

فَلْيَصْنَع الحُبُّ مَا يشاءُ

I have waived my claim to vengeance against the beauties;

I left my wealth to the singing damsels,

so let love do whatever it wishes.

Let love do what it will.