يَميناً بِديني إِنَّهُ الحُبُّ فيكَ أَو

يَميناً بِديني إِنَّهُ الحُبُّ فيكَ أَو

بِقِبلَةِ نُسكي إِنَّهُ وَجهُكَ الحَسَن

بِقِبلَةِ نُسكي إِنَّهُ وَجهُكَ الحَسَن

I swear by my faith—indeed, it is love for you—or

By my faith, it is love for you or

by the qibla of my worship—indeed, it is your beautiful face.

By my devotion's kiss, it is your beautiful face

لَحُبُّكَ مِن قَلبي وَإِن سَلَّطَ الضَنى

لَحُبُّكَ مِن قَلبي وَإِن سَلَّطَ الضَنى

عَلى جَسَدي أَشفى مِنَ الروحِ لِلبَدَن

عَلى جَسَدي أَشفى مِنَ الروحِ لِلبَدَن

Truly, love for you is to my heart—though it unleashes wasting illness

Your love is from my heart even if sorrow

upon my body—more healing than the soul is to the body.

Has power over my body, it heals more than the spirit does the body

فَيا وَطَنَ السُلوانِ وَالعِشقِ غُربَةً

فَيا وَطَنَ السُلوانِ وَالعِشقِ غُربَةً

أَلا عَودَةً بِاللَهِ في ذَلِكَ الوَطَن

أَلا عَودَةً بِاللَهِ في ذَلِكَ الوَطَن

O homeland of solace—love is exile!

Oh homeland of nighttalk and love, exile

Is there no return, by God, to that homeland?

By God, return to that homeland

لَقَد طالَ حَربُ النَومِ فيكَ لِناظِري

لَقَد طالَ حَربُ النَومِ فيكَ لِناظِري

أَلا هُدنَةً مِنهُ وَدَعها عَلى دَخَن

أَلا هُدنَةً مِنهُ وَدَعها عَلى دَخَن

Long indeed has sleep's war against my eye endured because of you.

Indeed, the war of sleeplessness in you has been long for my eyes

Is there no truce with it? Let it rest upon smoldering ill will.

By God, a truce from it, leave it smoldering

يَظُنُّ هَوى موسى بِأَنّي قَتيلُهُ

يَظُنُّ هَوى موسى بِأَنّي قَتيلُهُ

سَأَجعَلُ نَفسي فيهِ وَاللَهِ حَيثُ ظَنّ

سَأَجعَلُ نَفسي فيهِ وَاللَهِ حَيثُ ظَنّ

Love for Musa thinks that I am its slain victim;

Passion thinks I am its slain

By God, I shall make myself, in that love, what it supposed me to be.

I will make myself in it, by God, where passion thought