مَلاَمَتُكُمْyour blame عَدْلٌjust لَوِif الْحُبُّlove يَعْدِلُacts justly
مَلاَمَتُكُمْ عَدْلٌ لَوِ الْحُبُّ يَعْدِلُ
وَإِرْشَادُكُمْand your guidance عَقْلٌreason لَوِif القَلْبُthe heart يَعْقِلُreasons
وَإِرْشَادُكُمْ عَقْلٌ لَوِ القَلْبُ يَعْقِلُ
Your blame would be just, if love were just.
And your guidance would be wise, if the heart could reason.
رَمَانِيshot at me الهَوَىpassion سَهْماًan arrow أَصَابَstruck حُشَاشَتِيmy vital core
رَمَانِي الهَوَى سَهْماً أَصَابَ حُشَاشَتِي
فَكَيْفَso how عَلَىfor مَاwhat أَشْتَكِيI complain مِنْهُof it أُعْذَلُI am rebuked
فَكَيْفَ عَلَى مَا أَشْتَكِي مِنْهُ أُعْذَلُ
Passion shot an arrow at me that struck my vital core.
So how am I rebuked for what I complain of?
ذَرُونِيleave me وَشَأْنِيand my affairs إِنَّهindeed it is so لَوْif نَفَىbanished الأَسَىsorrow
ذَرُونِي وَشَأْنِي إِنَّه لَوْ نَفَى الأَسَى
مَلاَمٌblame لَخَفَّفتُI would surely lighten الَّذِيwhat أَتَحَمَّلُI bear
مَلاَمٌ لَخَفَّفتُ الَّذِي أَتَحَمَّلُ
Leave me to myself; indeed, if grief were banished
By blame, I would lighten what I bear.
كِتَابَO letter حَبِيبِيmy beloved أَنْتَyou خَيْرُthe best تَعِلَّةٍa solace
كِتَابَ حَبِيبِي أَنْتَ خَيْرُ تَعِلَّةٍ
لِقَلْبِيfor my heart وَقَدْand already أَعْيَىhas grown helpless الطَّبيبُthe physician المُعَلِّلُthe consoling one
لِقَلْبِي وَقَدْ أَعْيَى الطَّبيبُ المُعَلِّلُ
O letter from my beloved, you are the best solace
For my heart, when the consoling physician has grown helpless.
كَشَفْتَyou lifted ظَلاَمَdarkness الشَّكdoubt عَنْfrom وَجْهِthe face حُبِّهِhis love
كَشَفْتَ ظَلاَمَ الشَّك عَنْ وَجْهِ حُبِّهِ
فَلاَحَso it shone كَبَدْرِlike the moon التَّمfullness وَاللَّيْلُwhile the night أَلْيَلُpitch-dark
فَلاَحَ كَبَدْرِ التَّم وَاللَّيْلُ أَلْيَلُ
You lifted doubt's darkness from the face of his love,
So it shone like the full moon, while night was pitch-dark.
وَنَبِّهتَand you alerted ظَنِّيmy suspicion لِلْعِدَىto the foes وَهْوَwhile it غَافِلٌheedless
وَنَبِّهتَ ظَنِّي لِلْعِدَى وَهْوَ غَافِلٌ
عَلَىat حِينَa time when عَيْنِيmy eye مِنْfrom جَوىًlove's anguish لَيْسَdoes not تَغْفَلُgrow heedless
عَلَى حِينَ عَيْنِي مِنْ جَوىً لَيْسَ تَغْفَلُ
And you alerted my suspicion to the foes, while it lay heedless,
Even as my eye, through love's anguish, never sleeps.
أَبَانُوهُthey parted him عَنِّيfrom me فَابْتَلُوهُso they afflicted him بِقَاتِلٍwith a deadly affliction
أَبَانُوهُ عَنِّي فَابْتَلُوهُ بِقَاتِلٍ
مِنَof الدَّاءِillness وَالدَّاءُand the illness الَّذِيthat بِيَis in me أَقْتَلُdeadlier
مِنَ الدَّاءِ وَالدَّاءُ الَّذِي بِيَ أَقْتَلُ
They parted him from me and afflicted him with a deadly
Disease; yet the sickness in me is deadlier.
فَلَيْسَso he is not عَلَىdespite قُرْبthe nearness المَزَارِthe visiting-place بِعَائِدِيa visitor to me
فَلَيْسَ عَلَى قُرْب المَزَارِ بِعَائِدِي
وَمَاand not بِيَin my power أَنْto أَسْعَىmake my way إِلَيْهِto him فَأَفْعَلُand thus do so
وَمَا بِيَ أَنْ أَسْعَى إِلَيْهِ فَأَفْعَلُ
He does not visit me, though his dwelling is near,
Nor have I the strength to go to him and do so.
تَنَاظَرُface one another دَارَانَاour two houses وَيَحْجُبُنَاand screens us نَوىًseparation
تَنَاظَرُ دَارَانَا وَيَحْجُبُنَا نَوىً
يُعيدُsends back حَدِيدَkeen اللَّحْظِsight وَهْوَwhile it is مُفَلَّلُblunted
يُعيدُ حَدِيدَ اللَّحْظِ وَهْوَ مُفَلَّلُ
Our two houses face each other, yet separation screens us,
Sending the keen gaze back with its edge blunted.
وَلَوْand if only أَنَّthat بَعْدَafter العُسْرِhardship يُسْراًease مُؤَمَّلاًّhoped for
وَلَوْ أَنَّ بَعْدَ العُسْرِ يُسْراً مُؤَمَّلاًّ
وَلَكِنْbut غَدَوْنَاwe have become وَالْحِمَامُand death المُؤَمَّلُwhat is hoped for
وَلَكِنْ غَدَوْنَا وَالْحِمَامُ المُؤَمَّلُ
If only there were ease to hope for after hardship!
But we have come to hope for death.
وَكُنْتُand I used to أَرَىregard الأَزْهَارَthe flowers أَسْعَدَhappier حَالَةًin condition
وَكُنْتُ أَرَى الأَزْهَارَ أَسْعَدَ حَالَةً
فَأَحْسُدُهَاso I envied them وَالسَّعدُand happiness بِالزَّهْرِin flowers أَمْثَلُmore perfect
فَأَحْسُدُهَا وَالسَّعدُ بِالزَّهْرِ أَمْثَلُ
I used to think the flowers happier in their lot,
And envied them, for happiness seemed more perfect in flowers.
فَأَلْفَيْتُthen I found أَنْthat لاَno حَيَّliving being إِلاَّexcept مُعَذَّبٌtormented
فَأَلْفَيْتُ أَنْ لاَ حَيَّ إِلاَّ مُعَذَّبٌ
وَأَشْقَىand the most wretched ذَوِيthose with الآلامِpains مَنْone who يَتَعَقَّلُreasons
وَأَشْقَى ذَوِي الآلامِ مَنْ يَتَعَقَّلُ
Then I found that no living thing is free from torment,
And the most wretched of sufferers is the one who reasons.
مَعَاهِدُthe haunts صَفْوِيmy serenity فِيin الصِّبَاyouth بَانَdeparted صَفْوُهَاtheir serenity
مَعَاهِدُ صَفْوِي فِي الصِّبَا بَانَ صَفْوُهَا
كَأَنَّas though الَّذِيwhat فِيis in النَّفسِthe soul لِلدَّارِto the dwelling يَشمَلُextends
كَأَنَّ الَّذِي فِي النَّفسِ لِلدَّارِ يَشمَلُ
The haunts of my youthful serenity have lost their peace,
As though what is in the soul extended to the dwelling.
وَرَوْضَةُand the garden إِينَاسِيmy solace وَلَهْوِيand my play تَحَوَّلَتْhas changed
وَرَوْضَةُ إِينَاسِي وَلَهْوِي تَحَوَّلَتْ
فَلاَso neither حُسْنُهَاits beauty يُسْلِيconsoles ولاَnor الشَّدْوُsong يَشْغَلُdistracts
فَلاَ حُسْنُهَا يُسْلِي ولاَ الشَّدْوُ يَشْغَلُ
And the garden of my solace and play has changed,
Its beauty no longer consoles, nor does song distract.
تَفَقَّدْتُهَاI visited it وَالفَجْرُwhile dawn يَفْتَحُopens جَفْنَهُits eyelid
تَفَقَّدْتُهَا وَالفَجْرُ يَفْتَحُ جَفْنَهُ
كَمَاas انْتَبَهَawoke الْوَسْنَانُthe drowsy one وَالجَفْنُwhile the eyelid مُثْقَلُheavy
كَمَا انْتَبَهَ الْوَسْنَانُ وَالجَفْنُ مُثْقَلُ
I visited it as dawn opened its eyelid,
Like a drowsy sleeper waking, with eyelid heavy.
فَطُفْتُso I wandered عَلَىamong الأَزْهَارِthe flowers فِيin أَمْنِthe safety of نَوْمِهَاtheir sleep
فَطُفْتُ عَلَى الأَزْهَارِ فِي أَمْنِ نَوْمِهَا
أُنَبِّههَاI rouse them جَذْباًby pulling إِليَّtoward me فَتُجْفِلُso they recoil
أُنَبِّههَا جَذْباً إِليَّ فَتُجْفِلُ
So I wandered among the flowers, safe in their sleep,
Rousing them by drawing them toward me, so they recoiled.
أُحَاوِلُI seek سُلْوَاناًforgetfulness بِتَشْكِيلِby arranging طَاقَةٍa bouquet
أُحَاوِلُ سُلْوَاناً بِتَشْكِيلِ طَاقَةٍ
فَأَقْتُلُso I kill مِنْهَاof them مَاwhichever أَشَاءُI wish وَأُثْكِلُand I bereave
فَأَقْتُلُ مِنْهَا مَا أَشَاءُ وَأُثْكِلُ
I seek forgetfulness by arranging a bouquet,
So I kill whichever I wish among them, and leave others bereaved.
وَمَاand not كُنْتُI was مَنْone who يَجْنِيdoes harm عَلَيْهَاto them خَلاَئِقاًcreatures
وَمَا كُنْتُ مَنْ يَجْنِي عَلَيْهَا خَلاَئِقاً
ضِعافاًfrail وَلَكِنْbut جِنَّةthe madness اليَأْسِof despair تَحْمِلُimpels
ضِعافاً وَلَكِنْ جِنَّة اليَأْسِ تَحْمِلُ
I was never one to harm them, these creatures
So frail; but the madness of despair drives me.
إِلىuntil أَنْthat بَدَتْappeared لِيto me وَرْدَةٌa rose مُسْتَكِينَةٌmeek
إِلى أَنْ بَدَتْ لِي وَرْدَةٌ مُسْتَكِينَةٌ
كَأَنَّas though دُمُوعَthe tears الفَجْرِof dawn فِيهَاin her تَهَلُّلَjoyful radiance
كَأَنَّ دُمُوعَ الفَجْرِ فِيهَا تَهَلُّلَ
Until a meek rose appeared to me,
As though dawn's tears upon her were a smile.
لَهَاshe has طَلْعَةُthe mien الْجَاهِof dignity المؤَثَّلfirmly established وَالصِّباand youth
لَهَا طَلْعَةُ الْجَاهِ المؤَثَّل وَالصِّبا
وَفِيand in الوَجْهِthe face تَقْطِيبٌa frown لِمَنْfor whoever يَتَأَمَّلُlooks closely
وَفِي الوَجْهِ تَقْطِيبٌ لِمَنْ يَتَأَمَّلُ
She had the bearing of deep-rooted dignity and youth,
Yet on her face was a frown, for one who looked closely.
تَلُوحُappear عَلَيْهَاupon her لِلْكَآبَةِof melancholy وَالأَسَىand sorrow
تَلُوحُ عَلَيْهَا لِلْكَآبَةِ وَالأَسَى
مَخَايِلُsigns دَقَّتwere too subtle أَنْto تُرَىbe seen فَتُخَيَّلُso they are imagined
مَخَايِلُ دَقَّت أَنْ تُرَى فَتُخَيَّلُ
Melancholy and grief showed upon her
In signs too subtle to see, only to be imagined.
وَيكْسِبُهَاand lends her مَعْنَىthe meaning of الحَيَاةِlife ذُبُولُهَاher withering
وَيكْسِبُهَا مَعْنَى الحَيَاةِ ذُبُولُهَا
لَدَىfor نَاظِرِيهَاher beholders فَهْيَso she is فِيin النَّفْسِthe soul أَجْمَلُlovelier
لَدَى نَاظِرِيهَا فَهْيَ فِي النَّفْسِ أَجْمَلُ
And her withering lends her the meaning of life
To those who behold her; thus she is lovelier to the soul.
مَلِيكَةُqueen ذَاكَthat الرَّوْضِgarden جَاوَرَstood beside عَرْشَهَاher throne
مَلِيكَةُ ذَاكَ الرَّوْضِ جَاوَرَ عَرْشَهَا
مِنَfrom among الزَّنْبَقِthe lilies العَاتِيhaughty مَلِيكٌa king مُكَلِّلُcrowned
مِنَ الزَّنْبَقِ العَاتِي مَلِيكٌ مُكَلِّلُ
Queen of that garden, beside her throne stood
A crowned king of the haughty lilies.
أَغَرُّradiant المُحَيَّاof countenance كَالصَّباحِlike morning نَقِيَّهhis face is pure
أَغَرُّ المُحَيَّا كَالصَّباحِ نَقِيَّه
لَهُhe has قَامَةٌa stature كَالرُّمْحِlike a spear أَوْor هِيَit is أَعْدَلُstraighter
لَهُ قَامَةٌ كَالرُّمْحِ أَوْ هِيَ أَعْدَلُ
Radiant of face, his countenance pure as morning,
He had a stature like a spear, or straighter still.
إِذَاwhen مَاemphatic particle اسْتَمَالَتْهُdrew him إِلَىtoward الوَرْدَةِthe rose الصَّبَاthe east wind
إِذَا مَا اسْتَمَالَتْهُ إِلَى الوَرْدَةِ الصَّبَا
فَلاَso he does not يَنْثَنِيbend كِبْراًout of pride وَلاَnor يَتَحَوَّلُhe turns
فَلاَ يَنْثَنِي كِبْراً وَلاَ يَتَحَوَّلُ
Whenever the east wind sought to bend him toward the rose,
He would not bend, out of pride, nor would he turn.
فَبَينَاso while يَدِيmy hand تَمْتَدُّreaches out آناًone moment إِلَيْهِمَاtoward them both
فَبَينَا يَدِي تَمْتَدُّ آناً إِلَيْهِمَا
وَيَمْنَعُنِيand holds me back الإِشْفَاقُpity آناُanother moment فَأَعْدِلُso I turn away
وَيَمْنَعُنِي الإِشْفَاقُ آناُ فَأَعْدِلُ
While my hand reached toward the two one moment,
And pity held me back the next, so I turned away,
ويَبْدُوand appears جَبِينُthe brow الصُّبحِof morning وَهْوَwhile it is مُعَصَّبٌbound
ويَبْدُو جَبِينُ الصُّبحِ وَهْوَ مُعَصَّبٌ
بِتَاجٍwith a crown كَأَنَّas though التِّبرَraw gold فيهِwithin it مُخَضَّلُbedewed
بِتَاجٍ كَأَنَّ التِّبرَ فيهِ مُخَضَّلُ
And morning's brow appeared, bound
With a crown in which the gold seemed bedewed,
وَمَاand not تَتَشَظَّىsplinters شَمْسُهُits sun فِيin اشْتِعَالِهَاits blazing
وَمَا تَتَشَظَّى شَمْسُهُ فِي اشْتِعَالِهَا
تَشَظِّيthe splintering of قَلْبِيmy heart وَهْوَwhile it is بِالشَّوْقِwith longing مُشْعَلُset aflame
تَشَظِّي قَلْبِي وَهْوَ بِالشَّوْقِ مُشْعَلُ
And its sun did not splinter in its blaze
As my heart did, set aflame with longing,
إِذَاsuddenly وَالِدِيmy father قَدْalready طَوَّقَتْنِيencircled me يَمِينُهُhis right hand
إِذَا وَالِدِي قَدْ طَوَّقَتْنِي يَمِينُهُ
وَفِيand on وَجْهِهِhis face دَمْعٌtears مِنَfrom العَيْنِthe eye مُرْسَلُflowing
وَفِي وَجْهِهِ دَمْعٌ مِنَ العَيْنِ مُرْسَلُ
Suddenly my father's right arm had encircled me,
And tears from his eye streamed over his face.
فَقَبَّلتُهُso I kissed him ظَمْأَىthirsty كَأَنَّas though بِمُهْجَتِيin my soul
فَقَبَّلتُهُ ظَمْأَى كَأَنَّ بِمُهْجَتِي
لَظَىthe blaze النَّارِof fire وَالشَّيبُand the gray hair المُقَبَّلbeing kissed مَنْهَلُa spring to drink from
لَظَى النَّارِ وَالشَّيبُ المُقَبَّل مَنْهَلُ
So I kissed him thirstily, as though within my soul
Fire blazed, and the gray hair I kissed were a spring.
فَقَالَthen he said وَمَاwhile not يَدْرِيknowing بِمَوْقِعِof the impact of قَوْلِهِhis words
فَقَالَ وَمَا يَدْرِي بِمَوْقِعِ قَوْلِهِ
لِمَاbecause هُوَhe مِنْof أَمْرِيmy affairs وَأَمْرِكَand your affairs يَجْهَلُis ignorant
لِمَا هُوَ مِنْ أَمْرِي وَأَمْرِكَ يَجْهَلُ
Then he said, not knowing the impact of his words,
For he knew nothing of my plight and yours,
شَفِيقاًcompassionate بِحَالِfor the condition of الزَّهْرَتَيْنِthe two flowers فُؤَادُهُhis heart
شَفِيقاً بِحَالِ الزَّهْرَتَيْنِ فُؤَادُهُ
شَفِيعاًas an intercessor بِمَاwith whatever فِيis within وُسْعِهِhis power يَتَوَسَّلُhe pleads
شَفِيعاً بِمَا فِي وُسْعِهِ يَتَوَسَّلُ
His heart compassionate toward the two flowers,
Interceding, pleading with whatever means he had:
بُنَيَّةlittle daughter عَفْواًpardon عَنْهُمَاfor them both فَكِلاَهُمَاfor both of them
بُنَيَّة عَفْواً عَنْهُمَا فَكِلاَهُمَا
شَقِيٌّwretched يَوَدّdesires المَوْتَdeath وَالمَوْتُwhile death مُمْهِلُdelays
شَقِيٌّ يَوَدّ المَوْتَ وَالمَوْتُ مُمْهِلُ
My little daughter, spare them, for both of them
Are wretched and long for death, while death delays.
فَلاَso do not تَسْبِقِيprecede سَيْفَthe sword القَضَاءِof fate إِلَيْهِمَاto them both
فَلاَ تَسْبِقِي سَيْفَ القَضَاءِ إِلَيْهِمَا
عَلَىdespite أَنَّهthe fact that it يَشْفِيهُمَاheals them both لَوْif يُعَجِّلُit hastens
عَلَى أَنَّه يَشْفِيهُمَا لَوْ يُعَجِّلُ
So do not precede the sword of fate in reaching them,
Though it would heal them if it hastened.
حَبِيبَانِtwo lovers سُرَّاًwere gladdened سَاعَةًfor an hour ثُمَّthen عُوقِبَاwere punished
حَبِيبَانِ سُرَّاً سَاعَةً ثُمَّ عُوقِبَا
طَوِيلاًfor long كَذَاكَthus الدَّهْرُtime يَسْخُوis generous ويَبخَلُand is miserly
طَوِيلاً كَذَاكَ الدَّهْرُ يَسْخُو ويَبخَلُ
Two lovers, gladdened for an hour, then punished
For long: so time is generous and miserly.
وَإِنَّand indeed لِهَذَيْنِfor these two العَشِيقَيْنِlovers حَادِثاًa happening
وَإِنَّ لِهَذَيْنِ العَشِيقَيْنِ حَادِثاً
غَرِيباًstrange بِوُدِّيI would love أَنْto أَرْىsee كَيْفَhow يكْمُلit ends
غَرِيباً بِوُدِّي أَنْ أَرْى كَيْفَ يكْمُل
And these two lovers have a story
So strange; I would love to see how it ends.
فَقَدْfor indeed جَاوَرَتْlived beside هَذِيthis الْوَفِيَّةfaithful one إِلْفَهَاher mate
فَقَدْ جَاوَرَتْ هَذِي الْوَفِيَّة إِلْفَهَا
إِذِwhen الإِلْفُthe mate مَيَّاسُgracefully swaying المَعَاطِفِthe flanks أَميلُmore inclined to bend
إِذِ الإِلْفُ مَيَّاسُ المَعَاطِفِ أَميلُ
For this faithful rose had lived beside her mate,
When her mate swayed gracefully, pliant in his form.
فَكَانَso he would إِذَاwhenever مَرَّتْpassed بِهِby him نَسَمُbreaths الصَّباof the east wind
فَكَانَ إِذَا مَرَّتْ بِهِ نَسَمُ الصَّبا
يُسِرّwhispers إِلَيْهَاto her سِرَّthe secret مَنْof one who يَتَغَزَّلُwoos
يُسِرّ إِلَيْهَا سِرَّ مَنْ يَتَغَزَّلُ
Whenever breaths of the east wind passed him,
He whispered to her the secret of one who woos.
يُدَاعِبُهَاhe caresses her جُهْدَwith all the force of الصَّبابَةِlonging وَالْهَوَىand passion
يُدَاعِبُهَا جُهْدَ الصَّبابَةِ وَالْهَوَى
وَيُعْرِضُand turns away عَنْهَاfrom her لاَعِباًplayfully ثُمَّthen يُقْبِلُapproaches
وَيُعْرِضُ عَنْهَا لاَعِباً ثُمَّ يُقْبِلُ
He caressed her with all the force of longing and passion,
And playfully turned away, then came back.
وَيَرْشُفُand sips كُلٌeach مِنfrom جَبِينِthe brow حَبِيبِهِhis beloved
وَيَرْشُفُ كُلٌ مِن جَبِينِ حَبِيبِهِ
دُمُوعَthe tears النَّدَىof dew خَمراًas wine رَحِيقاًpure فَيَثْملُso grows drunk
دُمُوعَ النَّدَى خَمراً رَحِيقاً فَيَثْملُ
And each sipped from the brow of their beloved
The tears of dew as pure wine, and grew drunk.
وَلَكِنَّهbut it لَمْdid not يَلْبَثِtake long الغُصْنُthe stem أَنْto جَفَاgrow estranged
وَلَكِنَّه لَمْ يَلْبَثِ الغُصْنُ أَنْ جَفَا
فَلَمْso did not تَثْنِbend عِطْفَيْهِhis two sides جَنُوبٌa south wind وَشَمْأَلُand a north wind
فَلَمْ تَثْنِ عِطْفَيْهِ جَنُوبٌ وَشَمْأَلُ
But it was not long before the stem grew estranged,
And neither south wind nor north could bend his sides.
فَشَقَّso it pained عَلَيْهَاher بَيْنُهُhis separation وَهْوَwhile he was جَارُهَاher neighbor
فَشَقَّ عَلَيْهَا بَيْنُهُ وَهْوَ جَارُهَا
وَبَاتَتْand she became لِفَرْطِfrom excessive الحُزْنِgrief تَذْوِيwithering وَتَنْحُلُand wasting away
وَبَاتَتْ لِفَرْطِ الحُزْنِ تَذْوِي وَتَنْحُلُ
His separation pained her, though he was her neighbor,
And from overwhelming grief she withered and grew thin.
وَعَمَاand after قَلِيلٍa short while يَقْضِيَانِthey both die مِنَof الجوَىlove's anguish
وَعَمَا قَلِيلٍ يَقْضِيَانِ مِنَ الجوَى
وَإِنْand if صَحَّproves right ظَنِيmy guess فَهْيthen she تَهِلِكُperishes أَوَّلُfirst
وَإِنْ صَحَّ ظَنِي فَهْي تَهِلِكُ أَوَّلُ
And before long they will both die of love's anguish,
And if my guess is right, she will perish first.
فَوَاso, oh رَحْمَتَاwhat pity هَذِيthis حَقِيقَةُthe truth حَالِنَاour condition
فَوَا رَحْمَتَا هَذِي حَقِيقَةُ حَالِنَا
رَآهَاhe saw it أَبِيmy father فِيin الزَّهْرَتَيْنِthe two flowers تَمَثَّلُembodied
رَآهَا أَبِي فِي الزَّهْرَتَيْنِ تَمَثَّلُ
Ah, what pity! This is our true condition,
My father saw it embodied in the two flowers.
بَكَىhe wept جَزَعاًin anguish لِلزَّهْرَتَيْنِfor the two flowers وَلَوْand had he دَرَىknown
بَكَى جَزَعاً لِلزَّهْرَتَيْنِ وَلَوْ دَرَى
لَصَانَhe would have saved لَنَاfor us الدَّمْعَthe tears الَّذِيthat رَاحَhe went on يَبْذُلُlavishing
لَصَانَ لَنَا الدَّمْعَ الَّذِي رَاحَ يَبْذُلُ
He wept in anguish for the two flowers; had he known,
He would have saved for us the tears he lavished.
هُمَاthey both صُورَتَانَاour two likenesses فِيin الْهَوَىlove وحَدِيثُنَاand our story
هُمَا صُورَتَانَا فِي الْهَوَى وحَدِيثُنَا
حَدِيثُهُمَاtheir story بَيْنَamong الأَزَاهِرِthe blossoms يُنْقَلُis passed along
حَدِيثُهُمَا بَيْنَ الأَزَاهِرِ يُنْقَلُ
They are our likenesses in love, and our story
Is their story, passed among the flowers.
أَقَبِّلI kiss ذَاكَthat الغُصْنَthe stem كُلَّevery صَبِيحَةٍmorning
أَقَبِّل ذَاكَ الغُصْنَ كُلَّ صَبِيحَةٍ
كَأَنِّيas though I لِلنَّائِيto the distant one الحَبِيبِthe beloved أُقَبِّلُI kiss
كَأَنِّي لِلنَّائِي الحَبِيبِ أُقَبِّلُ
I kiss that stem each morning,
As though I were kissing my distant beloved.
وَأَنْظُرُand I look at أُخْتِيmy sister فِيin الشَّقاءِmisery كَأَنَّنيas though I
وَأَنْظُرُ أُخْتِي فِي الشَّقاءِ كَأَنَّني
أَرَانِيI see myself بِمِرْآةٍin a mirror أَمُوتُI die وَأَذْبُلُand I wither
أَرَانِي بِمِرْآةٍ أَمُوتُ وَأَذْبُلُ
And I look at my sister in misery, as though
I saw myself in a mirror, dying and withering.
Translation model: Sol 6.1