وَدَّعتُI bade farewell مَنthe one whom أَهوىI love أَصيلاًin the late afternoon لَيتَنيif only I
وَدَّعتُ مَن أَهوى أَصيلاً لَيتَني
ذُقتُI tasted الحِمامَdeath وَلاand not أَذوقُI taste نَواهُseparation from him
ذُقتُ الحِمامَ وَلا أَذوقُ نَواهُ
I bade farewell at eventide to the one I love—if only I
I bade farewell to the one I love in the late afternoon—if only I
had tasted death, and never tasted the pain of his absence.
had tasted death instead of tasting separation from him.
فَوَجدتُthen I found حَتّىeven الشَمسthe sun تَشكوlaments وَجدهlonging for him
فَوَجدتُ حَتّى الشَمس تَشكو وَجده
وَالورقُand the doves تندبmourn شجوهاtheir sorrow بِهواهfor love of him
وَالورقُ تندب شجوها بِهواه
I found even the sun lamenting its longing for him,
Then I found even the sun lamenting its longing for him,
and the doves bewailing their sorrow for love of him.
and the doves mourning their sorrow for love of him.
وَعلىand upon الأَصائلِthe late afternoons رقَّةٌtenderness مِنfrom بُعدهhis absence
وَعلى الأَصائلِ رقَّةٌ مِن بُعده
فَكأَنَّهاso, as though they تلقىendure الَّذيwhat أَلقاهI endure it
فَكأَنَّها تلقى الَّذي أَلقاه
Upon the evening hours lies a tenderness born of his absence,
And the late afternoons bear a tenderness born of his absence,
as though they suffer what I suffer.
as though they endure what I endure.
وَغَداand became النَسيمُthe breeze مبلِّغاًa messenger ماwhat بَينناbetween us
وَغَدا النَسيمُ مبلِّغاً ما بَيننا
فلذاكand therefore رقَّgrew tender هَوىlove وَطابَand grew sweet شَذاهits fragrance
فلذاك رقَّ هَوى وَطابَ شَذاه
The breeze became a messenger between us,
And the breeze became a messenger of what lies between us;
and so its breath grew gentle and its fragrance sweet.
so it grew tender with love, and its fragrance grew sweet.
ماnot الرَوضُthe garden قَدalready مُزِجَتhave been mingled بِهwithin it أَنداؤُهits dewdrops
ما الرَوضُ قَد مُزِجَت بِه أَنداؤُه
سِحراًmagic بأَطيبَany sweeter منthan شَذاthe fragrance ذكراهthe memory of him
سِحراً بأَطيبَ من شَذا ذكراه
No garden, though its dews have been mingled through it
No garden, with its dewdrops mingled within it
at dawn, is sweeter than the fragrance of his memory.
by magic, is sweeter than the fragrance of his memory.
وَالزَهرُand the blossoms مبسمُهُhis smiling mouth وَنَكهَتُهُand his breath الصباthe east wind
وَالزَهرُ مبسمُهُ وَنَكهَتُهُ الصبا
وَالوَردُand the roses أَخضَلَهُmoistened them النَدىthe dew خدّاهhis two cheeks
وَالوَردُ أَخضَلَهُ النَدى خدّاه
The blossoms are his smiling mouth, and the zephyr is his fragrance;
And the blossoms are his smiling mouth, and the east wind is his breath;
the rose, drenched by dew, is his two cheeks.
and the roses, moistened by dew, are his cheeks.
فلذاكand therefore أُولعI am enamored بالرياضwith gardens لأَنَّهاbecause they
فلذاك أُولع بالرياض لأَنَّها
أَبَداًforever تذكرنيremind me بِمَنof the one whom أَهواهI love him
أَبَداً تذكرني بِمَن أَهواه
That is why I am enamored of gardens: because they
So I am enamored of gardens, for they
forever remind me of the one I love.
forever remind me of the one I love.
