1. ثوب السماءِ مطرزٌ بالعسجدِ

    وكأنها لبستْ قميص زبرجدِ

    The sky's robe is embroidered with gold,

    and it is as though she has donned a tunic of chrysolite.

  2. والشمسُ عاصبةُ الجبينِ مريضةٌ

    تصفرُ في منديلها المتورَّدِ

    And the sun, her forehead bandaged, is ill,

    turning yellow within her rose-hued kerchief.

  3. حسدتْ نظيرتها فأسقمها الأسى

    إن السقامَ علامةٌ في الحسَّدِ

    She envied her counterpart, and sorrow sickened her;

    indeed, sickness is a mark of the envious.

  4. ورأت غبارَ الليلِ ينفضِ فوقها

    في الأفقِ فانطبقتْ كعينِ الأرمدِ

    And she saw the dust of night shaken over her

    at the horizon, then closed like an inflamed eye.

  5. ومضى النهارُ يشقُّ في أثوابهِ

    حزناً وأقبلَ في رداءٍ أسودِ

    And the day went on, tearing at his robes

    in sorrow, and came in a black cloak.

  6. فتهللتْ غررُ النجومِ كأنما

    كانت لضاحيةِ السماءِ بمرصدِ

    Then the radiant brows of the stars beamed, as though

    they had kept watch for the sky's open expanse.

  7. وكأنها عقدٌ تناثرَ درُّهُ

    من جيدِ غانيةٍ ولم تتعمدِ

    And they seemed a necklace whose pearls had scattered

    from a beautiful woman's neck, without her intending it.

  8. أو حلي رباتِ الدلالِ أذلنهُ

    شتَّى يروحُ على النهودِ ويغتدي

    Or the jewels of coquettish ladies, which they wore freely,

    scattered, passing over breasts at evening and at morn.

  9. والأفق بينَ مفضضٍ ومذهبٍ

    كالجيدِ بينَ معطَّلٍ ومقلَّدِ

    And the horizon, partly silvered, partly gilded,

    was like a neck, partly bare and partly necklace-adorned.

  10. وكأن صفحةَ بدرهِ إذ أشرفتْ

    مصقولةَ الخدينِ صفحةَ أمردِ

    And the face of its full moon, as it rose, seemed

    the polished-cheeked face of a beardless youth.

  11. وكأنَّ ضوءَ الفجرِ رونقُ صارمٍ

    نضيتْ صفيحتهُ ولما تغمدِ

    And dawn's light seemed the sheen of a keen sword,

    its blade drawn and not yet sheathed.

  12. والأرضُ في حللِ كُستْ أطرافها

    إلا معاصمَ نهرها المتجردِ

    And the earth wore robes that clothed its extremities,

    save the wrists of its unclad river.

  13. حفتْ جوانبهُ الرياضُ كأنها

    وشيُ الفرندِ على غرارِ مهندِ

    Gardens fringed its banks, as though they were

    the damask patterning on an Indian-forged sword's edge.

  14. وكأنهُ صدرُ المليحةِ عارياً

    ما بينَ لبتها وبينَ المعقدِ

    And it seemed the bare bosom of a beauty,

    between her throat's hollow and her girdle's knot.

  15. وكأنَّ أثواب الرياض من الصبا

    عبقتْ بأنفاس الحسانِ الخُرَّدِ

    And the gardens' robes seemed, through the east wind,

    perfumed with the breath of bashful beauties.

  16. يمشي النسيمُ خلالها مترنحاً

    بينَ الغديرِ وبينَ ظلٍّ أبردِ

    The breeze walks through them, swaying,

    between the pool and a cooler shade.

  17. والطيرُ مائلةٌ على أوكارها

    منها مغردةٌ وغيرُ مغرِّدِ

    And birds lean over their nests,

    some singing, others not.

  18. باتتْ تناغي لا تحاذرُ فاجعاً

    مما نكابدُ في الزمانِ الأنكدِ

    They spent the night cooing, fearing no calamity

    of those we endure in this wretched age.

  19. يا طيرُ ما في العيشِ إلا حسرةً

    إن خلتها نقصتْ قليلاً تزددِ

    O birds, life holds nothing but sorrow;

    if you think it has lessened a little, it grows.

  20. لم يمنعِ القصرُ المشيدُ ملوكهُ

    منها فكيفَ وفاكها الغصنُ الندي

    The lofty palace did not shield its kings

    from it; how, then, has the dewy bough shielded you from it?

  21. تأبى على الأحرارِ إلا ذلَّةً

    ولو أنهم صعدوا ومدارَ الفرقَدِ

    It allows free men nothing but humiliation,

    even if they rose as high as Farqad's orbit.

  22. فانعم بوكركَ إنه لكَ جنةٌ

    كالخلدِ لولا أنت غيرُ مخلدِ

    So rejoice in your nest; it is a paradise for you,

    like eternal paradise, except that you are not immortal.

  23. كم واجدٍ منها تقاذفَ قلبهُ

    ذاتُ الدلالِ فإن دنا هو تبعدِ

    How many a lover, sorrowing because of it, has had his heart tossed

    by a coquettish beauty: if he draws near, she retreats.

  24. فتاكةُ الألحاظِ أنى يممتْ

    سمعتَ زفيرَ متيَّمٍ متنهدِ

    Deadly in her glances, wherever she turns,

    you hear the anguished breath of a sighing, love-stricken man.

  25. كالبدرِ لولا أنها أنسيةٌ

    والشمسِ لولا أنها لم تعبدِ

    Like the full moon, except that she is human,

    and like the sun, except that she has not been worshipped.

  26. قالتْ عشقتَ وما قضيتَ كمن قضوا

    هذا الطريقُ إلى الردى فتزودِ

    She said, “You have loved, but have not died as others have;

    this is the road to death—so take provisions.

  27. دعْ عنكَ أمرَ غدٍ إذا ما خفتهُ

    يوماً لعلكَ لا تعيش إلى غدِ

    Put tomorrow's concerns aside, if you fear them

    some day; perhaps you will not live until tomorrow.

  28. فلقد أراك اليومَ من أثرِ الهوى

    كالشمسِ إن لم تحتجبْ فكأنّ قدِ

    For indeed I see you today, through love's effects,

    like the sun: if not yet veiled, it is as though it already were.”