1. أيا رشاقةَ غُصْنِ البان ما هَصَرَكْ

    ويا تألُّفَ نظم الشمل مَنْ نَثَرَك

    O slender grace of the bān bough, what bent you down?

    And O harmony of a close-knit gathering, who scattered you?

  2. ويا شؤوني وشأني كُلّهُ حَزَنٌ

    فُضّي يَواقِيتَ دَمعي واحبِسي دُرَرك

    And O my tear ducts—my whole state is grief—

    pour forth the rubies of my tears, and hold back your pearls.

  3. ما خِلتُ قَلبي وَتَبريحي يُقَلِّبُهُ

    إلا جناحَ قطاةٍ في اعتقال شَرَك

    I thought my heart, as my anguish tossed it,

    nothing but a sandgrouse’s wing held fast in a snare.

  4. لا صبرَ عنكِ وكيف الصبر عنكِ وقد

    طواكِ عن عينيَ الموجُ الذي نَشَرك

    There is no bearing your absence; how could there be, when

    the wave that unfolded you has folded you away from my eyes?

  5. هلّا وروضةُ ذاك الحسنِ ناضرةٌ

    لا تلحظُ العينُ فيها ذابلاً زَهَرك

    Why not spare you, while the garden of that beauty was flourishing,

    and no eye saw your blossoms withered there?

  6. أماتكِ البحرُ ذو التيَّار من حَسَدٍ

    لمّا دَرَى الدرُّ منه حاسداً ثَغرك

    The sea with its currents killed you out of envy,

    when it knew its pearls envied your mouth.

  7. وَقَعتُ في الدَّمعِ إِذ أُغْرِقتِ في لُجَجٍ

    قَد كادَ يَغمِرُني مِنهُ الَّذي غَمَرَك

    I fell into tears when you were drowned in deep waters;

    what engulfed you almost engulfed me in those tears.

  8. أَيَّ الثَّلاثَةِ أَبكي فَقْدَهُ بِدَمٍ

    عميمَ خُلقِكِ أم مَعناكِ أم صِغَرَكْ

    Which of these three losses shall I weep for in blood:

    your boundless goodness, your inner worth, or your youth?

  9. من أين يَقْبَحُ أن أفنى عليكِ أسى

    والحسنُ في كُلِّ فَنُّ يَقتَفي أثَرَكْ

    How could it be wrong for me to perish in grief for you,

    when beauty in every form follows in your footsteps?

  10. كُنتِ الشَّبيبةَ إذْ وَلَّتْ ولا عِوَضٌ

    منها ولو رَبحَ الدُّنيا الَّذي خَسِرَك

    You were youth itself when it departed, and there is no replacement

    for it, even if the one who lost you were to gain the world.

  11. ما كنتُ عنكِ مطيلاً بالهوى سَفَري

    وقد أطَلْتِ لِحَيْني في البلى سَفَرك

    Out of love, I never prolonged my journey away from you;

    yet, to my undoing, you have prolonged your journey in decay.

  12. هل واصلي منكِ إلا طيفُ ميّتَةً

    تُهْدي لعينيَ من ذاك السكونِ حَرَك

    Does anything reach me from you but a dead woman’s phantom,

    bringing my eyes movement out of that stillness?

  13. أُعانقُ القبر شوقاً وهو مشتَمِلٌ

    عليكِ لو كنتُ فيه عالماً خَبَرَك

    I would embrace the grave in longing, for it encloses

    you, if within it I could know how you fare.

  14. وددتُ يا نورَ عيني لو وَقَى بَصَري

    جَنادِلاً وتُراباً لاصِقا بشَرَك

    I wished, O light of my eye, that my sight had shielded

    your skin from stones and clinging dust.

  15. أقولُ للبحر إذ أغشيتُهُ نظري

    ما كَدّرَ العيشَ إلا شُرْبُها كَدَرك

    I say to the sea, as I spread my gaze over it:

    Nothing clouded life but her drinking your murky water.

  16. هلا كففتَ أُجاجاً منك عن أُشَرٍ

    من ثَغْرِ لمياءَ لولا ضعفها أسرك

    Why did you not withhold your brine from the fine-edged teeth

    of a dark-lipped beauty, whose mouth, but for her weakness, would have captured you?

  17. هلا نظرتَ إلى تفتير مُقْلَتِها

    إني لأعجبُ منه كيف ما سَحَرَك

    Why did you not look upon the languor of her eye?

    I truly marvel at it: how did it not bewitch you?

  18. يا وَجْهَ جوهرةَ المحجوبَ عن بَصَري

    من ذا يقيكَ كسوفاً قد علا قَمَرَك

    O face of Jawhara, veiled from my sight,

    who can shield you from the eclipse that has covered your moon?

  19. يا جِسمَها كَيفَ أَخلو من جوى حَزَني

    وأَنتَ خالٍ مِنَ الرّوح الَّذي عَمَرك

    O body of hers, how can I be free of my grief’s burning pain,

    when you are empty of the soul that once inhabited you?

  20. ليلي أطالَكَ بالأحزانِ مُعْقَبَةً

    عليّ مَنْ كانَ بالأفراح قد قَصَرَك

    My night, she has lengthened you with sorrows visited in succession

    upon me—she who once shortened you with joys.

  21. ما أغْفَلَ النائمَ المرموسَ في جدثٍ

    عمّا يُلاقي من التَّبريح مَنْ سَهِرك

    How oblivious is the sleeper buried in a tomb

    to the torment suffered by one who keeps vigil through you!

  22. يا دُولةَ الوصلِ إن ولّيتِ عن بصري

    فالقلبُ يقرأ في صُحْفِ الأسى سمَرك

    O reign of union, if you have vanished from my sight,

    the heart reads your evening tales in the pages of sorrow.

  23. لَئِن وجدتُكِ عَنّي غيرَ نابيَةٍ

    فإنّ نفسيَ منها ربُّها فطرك

    If indeed I found you never turning away from me,

    then it was from my own soul that its Lord fashioned you.

  24. إِن كانَ أَسلَمكِ المضطَرُّ عن قَدَرٍ

    فلم يخنْكِ على حالٍ ولا غَدَرَك

    If the helpless one gave you up by fate’s decree,

    he never betrayed you in any way, nor dealt treacherously with you.

  25. هل كان إلا غريقاً رافعاً يَدَهُ

    نهاهُ عن شُرْبِ كاسٍ مَن بِها أَمَرَك

    Was he anything but a drowning man with his hand raised,

    forbidden the cup by the One who commanded you to drink it?

  26. أَما عَدَاكِ حِمامٌ عَن زيارتِهِ

    فكيفَ أطْمَعَ فيك النفسَ وانتظَرَك

    Did death not bar you from visiting him?

    How, then, could he make his soul hope for you and await you?

  27. إِن كانَ للدَّمع في أرجاءِ وَجنَتِهِ

    تبرّجٌ فهو يبكي بالأسى خَفَرك

    If tears, all across his cheek,

    flaunt themselves, he weeps in sorrow for your modesty.

  28. وما نَجوتُ بِنَفسي عَنكِ راغِبَةً

    وإنّما مَدّ عُمْري قاصرٌ عُمُرَك

    I did not escape with my life out of any wish to leave you;

    rather, He who shortened your life prolonged mine.