وَفَاتِنَةِ الْحَدِيثِ لَهَا نِكَاتٌ

وَفَاتِنَةِ الْحَدِيثِ لَهَا نِكَاتٌ

تَحُولُ بِسِحْرِهَا دُونَ الْمَرَامِ

تَحُولُ بِسِحْرِهَا دُونَ الْمَرَامِ

And a woman of enchanting speech has witty quips

The charmer of conversation, her wit delights,

That, by their magic, stand in the way of my desire.

With her magic she steers my desires awry.

شَكَوْتُ لَهَا ضَنَى جَسَدِي فَقَالَتْ

شَكَوْتُ لَهَا ضَنَى جَسَدِي فَقَالَتْ

بِطَرْفِي مَا بِجِسْمِكَ مِنْ سَقَامِ

بِطَرْفِي مَا بِجِسْمِكَ مِنْ سَقَامِ

I complained to her of my body's wasting, and she said,

I complained of my body’s disdain, and she said

“In my gaze is the sickness that is in your body.”

“There is no sickness in your frame, just my glance.”

فَقُلْتُ عِدِي بِوَصْلٍ مِنْكِ صَبّاً

فَقُلْتُ عِدِي بِوَصْلٍ مِنْكِ صَبّاً

برَتْهُ يَدُ الصَّبَابَةِ وَالْغَرَامِ

برَتْهُ يَدُ الصَّبَابَةِ وَالْغَرَامِ

So I said, “Promise union with you to a lovesick man

I implored, “Quench my ardour with your company,”

Whom the hand of yearning and passion has worn thin.”

Molded by the hands of passion and youth.

فَقَالَتْ سَوْفَ تَلْقَانِي قَرِيبَاً

فَقَالَتْ سَوْفَ تَلْقَانِي قَرِيبَاً

فَقُلْتُ مَتَى فَقَالَتْ فِي الْمَنَامِ

فَقُلْتُ مَتَى فَقَالَتْ فِي الْمَنَامِ

Then she said, “You will meet me soon.”

She said “Soon you will find me,”

I said, “When?” She said, “In dreams.”

I asked “When?” She said “In dreams.”