يا لائمي في أعرجٍ

يا لائمي في أعرجٍ

حُلْوِ المراشف والمذاقِ

حُلْوِ المراشف والمذاقِ

O you who reproach me for loving a lame man,

O you who blame me for loving one who limps,

sweet of lips and taste.

Whose lips are sweet and whose conversation delightful,

ظَبيٌ أَنسْتُ نفارَهُ

ظَبيٌ أَنسْتُ نفارَهُ

وَهَوَيتُه لا للسباقِ

وَهَوَيتُه لا للسباقِ

A gazelle whose skittishness I have grown used to;

A gazelle I forgot his shyness

and I loved him—not for racing.

And his inclination not for running.

أَوَما رأيتَ الغُصْنَ أح

أَوَما رأيتَ الغُصْنَ أح

سَن ما يكونُ بفَردِ ساقِ

سَن ما يكونُ بفَردِ ساقِ

And have you not seen the bough at its loveliest

Have you not seen the branch is most beautiful

when it stands upon a single stem?

When it stands alone without a stem?