خَليلَيَّ ما أَغبى المُغالينَ في الهَوى

خَليلَيَّ ما أَغبى المُغالينَ في الهَوى

وَأَغفَلَهُم عَن حُسنِ كُلِّ مَليحِ

وَأَغفَلَهُم عَن حُسنِ كُلِّ مَليحِ

My two friends, how foolish are those who go to excess in love,

My friend, how foolish are those infatuated with love,

and how heedless they are of the beauty of every lovely one!

And how unaware they are of all that is beautiful.

يَظُنّونَ أَنَّ الحُسنَ بِالعَينِ مُدرَكٌ

يَظُنّونَ أَنَّ الحُسنَ بِالعَينِ مُدرَكٌ

وَسِرُّ الهَوى بادٍ لِكُلِّ لَموحِ

وَسِرُّ الهَوى بادٍ لِكُلِّ لَموحِ

They think beauty is perceived by the eye,

They think beauty is perceived only by the eyes,

and love's secret is plain to every keen-eyed observer.

Yet the secret of passion is clear to every wink.

وَلَيسَ طَموحُ الناظِرَينِ بِمُبصِرٍ

وَلَيسَ طَموحُ الناظِرَينِ بِمُبصِرٍ

إِذا كانَ لَحظُ القَلبِ غَيرَ طَموحِ

إِذا كانَ لَحظُ القَلبِ غَيرَ طَموحِ

Yet one whose eyes gaze eagerly does not truly see,

The gaze of starry-eyed lovers is not one of insight

if the heart's gaze is not eager.

If the glance of the heart is not likewise starred.

فَلَيسَ جَميلٌ في الهَوى وَكُثَيِّرٌ

فَلَيسَ جَميلٌ في الهَوى وَكُثَيِّرٌ

وَلا عُروَةُ العُذريُّ وَاِبنُ ذَريحِ

وَلا عُروَةُ العُذريُّ وَاِبنُ ذَريحِ

For in love, neither Jamil nor Kuthayyir,

So not all that's beautiful kindles love, though plentiful,

nor Urwa al-Udhri nor Ibn Dharih,

Not Dhurayy or even Ibn Dhurih.

بِأَعرَفَ مِنّي لِلمِلاحِ تَوَسُّماً

بِأَعرَفَ مِنّي لِلمِلاحِ تَوَسُّماً

وَلا جَنَحوا لِلعِشقِ بَعضَ جَنوحي

وَلا جَنَحوا لِلعِشقِ بَعضَ جَنوحي

is more discerning than I in recognizing the beautiful,

But I know beauty better than any coquette;

nor have they inclined to passion even a fraction as much as I.

And they cannot aspire to my passion’s wings.

وَأَيُّ لَبيبٍ ما سَبى الحُسنُ لُبَّهُ

وَأَيُّ لَبيبٍ ما سَبى الحُسنُ لُبَّهُ

فَباتَ بِقَلبٍ بِالغَرامِ قَريحِ

فَباتَ بِقَلبٍ بِالغَرامِ قَريحِ

And what wise man's mind has beauty not taken captive,

What sane man's heart was captured by beauty

leaving him to spend the night with a heart wounded by passion?

And ended the night with a sick heart?

إِذا ما خَلا القَلبُ الصَحيحُ مِنَ الهَوى

إِذا ما خَلا القَلبُ الصَحيحُ مِنَ الهَوى

عَلِمتُ بِأَنَّ العَقلَ غَيرُ صَحيحِ

عَلِمتُ بِأَنَّ العَقلَ غَيرُ صَحيحِ

If a sound heart is empty of love,

When the healthy heart is devoid of love,

I know that the mind is not sound.

I know reason itself is not healthy.