ما أبصَرت عَيني بهَا عَينَاكِ

ما أبصَرت عَيني بهَا عَينَاكِ

سُبحَانَ خَالِقَى الَّذي سَوَّاكِ

سُبحَانَ خَالِقَى الَّذي سَوَّاكِ

My eye has not beheld your eyes in her.

My eyes never saw the like of your eyes,

Glory be to my Creator, who fashioned you!

Glory to my Creator who created you.

يا رَبَّةَ الحُسنِ الَّتي لِجَمالِهَا

يا رَبَّةَ الحُسنِ الَّتي لِجَمالِهَا

تَعنُو بدورُ التَّمِ حينَ تَرَاكِ

تَعنُو بدورُ التَّمِ حينَ تَرَاكِ

O mistress of beauty, before whose loveliness

O beauty of loveliness that because of her beauty,

The moons at their fullest bow when they see you.

Full moons are dimmed when they see you.

غُرَرَ المَحَاسِنِ قَد وُهِبتِ ونِلتِ كُلَّ

غُرَرَ المَحَاسِنِ قَد وُهِبتِ ونِلتِ كُلَّ

الظرف يا لِلّه ما أحلاَكِ

الظرف يا لِلّه ما أحلاَكِ

You have been granted the choicest beauties and attained all

The treasures of beauty have been granted to you all,

Grace—O God, how lovely you are!

What elegance, O Lord, how beautiful you are!

خَلَعَ الجَمالُ عَليكِ أحسنَ مَلبسٍ

خَلَعَ الجَمالُ عَليكِ أحسنَ مَلبسٍ

مِن فِتنَةٍ يا سَعدَ مَن يَهوَاكِ

مِن فِتنَةٍ يا سَعدَ مَن يَهوَاكِ

Beauty has arrayed you in the finest garment

Beauty has clothed you in the finest attire,

Of enchantment—oh, the good fortune of whoever loves you!

What bliss for one who loves you!

الرُّمحُ قَدَّكِ ما له مِن طَاقَةٍ

الرُّمحُ قَدَّكِ ما له مِن طَاقَةٍ

وَالسحرُ فِي أحشائِنا عَينَاكِ

وَالسحرُ فِي أحشائِنا عَينَاكِ

Your figure is a spear beyond endurance,

Arrows are blunted by you, they have no power,

And your eyes are the magic within our hearts.

Your eyes have cast a spell in our hearts.

وَالخدُّ نَارهُ فِي الحَشا مَوقُودَةٌ

وَالخدُّ نَارهُ فِي الحَشا مَوقُودَةٌ

مَوقُودةٌ إن الحَشا مَرعَكِ

مَوقُودةٌ إن الحَشا مَرعَكِ

And the cheek—its fire is kindled in the heart,

Your cheeks, their fire burns brightly in my heart,

Kindled—indeed, the heart is your pasture.

Burning brightly, your heart fans their flames.

لَولاَكِ مَا ذقتُ الهَوى وتَزَايدَت

لَولاَكِ مَا ذقتُ الهَوى وتَزَايدَت

عَنِّي المَصَائِبُ فِي الهوَى لَولاكِ

عَنِّي المَصَائِبُ فِي الهوَى لَولاكِ

Were it not for you, I would not have tasted love, and there would have been more

If not for you, I would not have tasted passion, nor

Misfortunes in love, away from me—were it not for you.

Would troubles in passion have increased but for you.