وَقَفتُ عَلَيهِ ناقَتي فَتَناَعَت

وَقَفتُ عَلَيهِ ناقَتي فَتَناَعَت

شُعوبُ الهَوى لَمّا عَرِفتُ المَغانِيا

شُعوبُ الهَوى لَمّا عَرِفتُ المَغانِيا

And I halted my she-camel there; then they called to one another—

My she-camel stopped when I recognized the abodes of love,

the branches of love—when I recognized the dwelling places.

The leagues of passion were in turmoil when I sang.

فَما أَعرِفُ الآياتِ إِلّا تَوَهُّما

فَما أَعرِفُ الآياتِ إِلّا تَوَهُّما

وَما أَعرِفُ الأَطلالَ إِلّا تَمارِيا

وَما أَعرِفُ الأَطلالَ إِلّا تَمارِيا

So I recognize the signs only by conjecture,

Save from illusion I know not the signs,

and recognize the ruins only with doubt.

Save from deserted ruins the lodges.

وَما خَلَفٌ مِنكُم بِأَطلالِ دِمنَةٍ

وَما خَلَفٌ مِنكُم بِأَطلالِ دِمنَةٍ

تَنَكَّرنَ وَاِستَبدَلنَ مِنكِ السَوافِيا

تَنَكَّرنَ وَاِستَبدَلنَ مِنكِ السَوافِيا

And there is no replacement for you in an old campsite’s ruins,

None left among you, but by rubble-heap

which have grown unrecognizable and taken sand-sweeping winds in your place.

Did alter and from you took other mounts.

وَإِن طَنَّتِ الأُذنانِ قُلتُ ذَكَرتِني

وَإِن طَنَّتِ الأُذنانِ قُلتُ ذَكَرتِني

وَإِن خَلَجَت عَيني رَجَوتُ التَلاقِيا

وَإِن خَلَجَت عَيني رَجَوتُ التَلاقِيا

And if my ears ring, I say, “You have remembered me”;

If my ears fancied, I said "You recalled me,"

and if my eye twitches, I hope for reunion.

If my eyes glanced, I hoped for union.

أَيا عَزَّ صادي القَلبَ حَتّى يَوَدَّني

أَيا عَزَّ صادي القَلبَ حَتّى يَوَدَّني

فُؤادُكِ أَو رُدّي عَلَيَّ فُؤادِيا

فُؤادُكِ أَو رُدّي عَلَيَّ فُؤادِيا

O ‘Azz, coax the heart until it loves me—

O solace of my heart, ardour me

your heart—or give my heart back to me.

Till my heart love yours, or make yours love me.

أَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

أَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

إِلى مَيِّتٍ في قَبرِهِ لَبَكى لِيا

إِلى مَيِّتٍ في قَبرِهِ لَبَكى لِيا

O ‘Azz, if I complained of what has befallen me

O solace, if I told my woe to one dead in his tomb,

to a dead man in his grave, he would weep for me.

He would weep for me.

أَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

أَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

إِلى راهِبٍ في ديرِهِ لَرَثى لِيا

إِلى راهِبٍ في ديرِهِ لَرَثى لِيا

O ‘Azz, if I complained of what has befallen me

O solace, if I told a cloistered monk my case,

to a monk in his monastery, he would feel pity for me.

He would mourn for me.

أَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

أَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

إِلى جَبَلٍ صَعبِ الذُرى لا نحَنى لِيا

إِلى جَبَلٍ صَعبِ الذُرى لا نحَنى لِيا

O ‘Azz, if I complained of what has befallen me

O solace, if I told a mountain, sheer of flint,

to a mountain with forbidding peaks, it would bend for me.

It would bend toward me.

وَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

وَيا عَزَّ لَو أَشكو الَّذي قَد أَصابَني

إِلى مُوثَقٍ في قَيدِهِ لَعَدا لِيا

إِلى مُوثَقٍ في قَيدِهِ لَعَدا لِيا

And O ‘Azz, if I complained of what has befallen me

And O solace, if I told one fettered in his chains,

to a man bound in his fetters, he would run to me.

He would struggle to aid me.