وَما سَجَعَت وَرقاءُ تَهتُفُ بِالضُحى

وَما سَجَعَت وَرقاءُ تَهتُفُ بِالضُحى

تُصَعِّدُ في أَفنانِها وَتُصَوِّبُ

تُصَعِّدُ في أَفنانِها وَتُصَوِّبُ

And as long as a gray dove coos, calling at midmorning,

The rustling leaves do not cheer at dawn’s first light,

rising among its boughs and descending;

Nor soar aloft, arranging their array.

وَما أَمطَرَت يَوماً بِنَجدٍ سَحابَةٌ

وَما أَمطَرَت يَوماً بِنَجدٍ سَحابَةٌ

وَما اِخضَرَّ بِالأَجراعِ طَلحٌ وَتَنضُبُ

وَما اِخضَرَّ بِالأَجراعِ طَلحٌ وَتَنضُبُ

and as long as a cloud ever rains over Najd,

No cloud has rained on Nejd with needed showers,

and acacia and tandub trees turn green on sandy tracts.

No oleander blooms at springs from brimming flow.

وَقالَ أُناسٌ وَالظُنونُ كَثيرَةٌ

وَقالَ أُناسٌ وَالظُنونُ كَثيرَةٌ

وَأَعلَمُ شَيءٍ بِالهَوى مَن يُجَرِّبُ

وَأَعلَمُ شَيءٍ بِالهَوى مَن يُجَرِّبُ

Some people said—and conjectures are many,

Some say, conjecturing, opinions swarm and spread,

and none knows love better than one who experiences it—

But who knows love like one who is love’s burnt victim?

أَلا إِنَّ في اليَأسِ المُفَرِّقُ راحَةً

أَلا إِنَّ في اليَأسِ المُفَرِّقُ راحَةً

سَيُسليكَ عَمَّن نَفعُهُ عَنكَ يَعزُبُ

سَيُسليكَ عَمَّن نَفعُهُ عَنكَ يَعزُبُ

"Indeed, in despair that brings parting there is relief;

Know, despair’s retreat brings balm, rest, peace from strife.

it will make you forget one whose help eludes you."

Solace it grants, when ties you prized drift far apart.

فَكُلُّ الَّذي قالوا بَلَوتُ فَلَم أَجِد

فَكُلُّ الَّذي قالوا بَلَوتُ فَلَم أَجِد

لِذي الشَجوِ أَشفى مِن هَوى حينَ يَقرُبُ

لِذي الشَجوِ أَشفى مِن هَوى حينَ يَقرُبُ

So I tested all they said, yet found

All said to bear love’s pain – I bore, but found

nothing more healing for the sorrowful than love when it draws near.

Nothing can match yearning’s sting, when love draws near.

عَلَيها سَلامُ اللَهِ ما هَبَّتِ الصَبا

عَلَيها سَلامُ اللَهِ ما هَبَّتِ الصَبا

وَما لاحَ وَهنا في دُجى اللَيلِ كَوكَبُ

وَما لاحَ وَهنا في دُجى اللَيلِ كَوكَبُ

Upon her be God's peace, as long as the east wind blows,

God bless her, no morning breeze has breathed at dawn,

and as long as a star gleams at a late hour in night's darkness.

No star has gleamed, shimmering soft in darkest night.

فَلَستُ بِمُبتاعٍ وِصالاً بِوَصلِها

فَلَستُ بِمُبتاعٍ وِصالاً بِوَصلِها

وَلَستُ بِمُفشٍ سِرَّها حينَ أَغضَبُ

وَلَستُ بِمُفشٍ سِرَّها حينَ أَغضَبُ

For I will not buy another union at the cost of hers,

Her love I’ll not buy, even if she stoops to union.

nor will I divulge her secret when I am angry.

Her secret’s mine, though she take umbrage, wrath aroused.