كمhow often تعجبُmarvel الناسُpeople منat صَيْدٍa hunt ولاand no شَرَكٍsnare
كم تعجبُ الناسُ من صَيْدٍ ولا شَرَكٍ
يَصيدُcaptures رئمٌa gazelle بهwith it قَلبيmy heart سِوىexcept نَظَريmy gaze
يَصيدُ رئمٌ به قَلبي سِوى نَظَري
How often people marvel at a hunt with no snare
How people wonder at hunting without a snare,
but my gaze, with which a gazelle captures my heart.
While my heart is caught by a glance of her eyes.
وَكَمand how often يَقولونَthey say مَجنونٌa madman وماand not عَلِمواthey knew
وَكَم يَقولونَ مَجنونٌ وما عَلِموا
أَنَّthat الجُنونَmadness الَّذيwhich بيin me منfrom هَوىlove بِشرِBishr
أَنَّ الجُنونَ الَّذي بي من هَوى بِشرِ
And how often they say, “A madman!” yet do not know
And how they say "He's possessed!" But they knew not
that the madness within me comes from love of Bishr.
That the madness in me is from love of a maid.
لاmay not عذّبَtorment اللَّهُGod منfor أَجليmy sake مُعَذِّبَةًa tormentress
لا عذّبَ اللَّهُ من أَجلي مُعَذِّبَةً
تُشَرّدُdrives away النومَsleep عَنfrom عَينَيَّmy two eyes بِالسَّهَرِwith sleeplessness
تُشَرّدُ النومَ عَن عَينَيَّ بِالسَّهَرِ
May God not torment, on my account, the woman who torments me,
May God not torment one for my sake with torment
who drives sleep from my eyes with sleeplessness.
That drives away sleep from my eyes with wakefulness.
يبيتُspends the night فيin ثَغْرهاher mouth بردُcoolness الشبابِyouth كَماjust as
يبيتُ في ثَغْرها بردُ الشبابِ كَما
باتَspent the night النَّدىdew مِنamong أَقاحيdaisies الروضِthe garden فيin زَهَرِblossoms
باتَ النَّدى مِن أَقاحي الروضِ في زَهَرِ
The coolness of youth lies by night in her mouth, as
I pass the night with the chill of youth in her mouth,
dew lies by night in the garden's daisy blossoms.
As dew spent the night in the bosom of flowers.
ياoh لَيتَنيwould that I والأَمانيand wishes رُبَّماsometimes بُلِغَتْwere fulfilled
يا لَيتَني والأَماني رُبَّما بُلِغَتْ
نَقَعتُI slaked حَرَّthe heat غَليليmy burning thirst مِنهُfrom it فيin الخَصَرِthe chill
نَقَعتُ حَرَّ غَليلي مِنهُ في الخَصَرِ
Would that I—and wishes are sometimes fulfilled—
Would that I and my longings could reach their goal,
had slaked my burning thirst from it, in its coolness.
I'd assuage the burning anguish in my breast.