1. بَاحَ بشكْوى ما بِهِ فاستراحْ

    فهلْ عليه في الهوى من جُناحْ

    He voiced his complaint of what ailed him and found relief.

    Is he, then, at all to blame in love?

  2. لمّا رأى كِتمانَ ما يَنْطَوي

    عليهِ لا يُغْنِي إذا الدّمعُ بَاحْ

    When he saw that concealing what he kept

    within was useless once tears spoke out,

  3. دَاوَى بما أعلن من بثِّه

    قَلباً من الكتمانِ دَامِي الجراحْ

    he healed, by voicing his anguish,

    a heart whose wounds bled from concealment.

  4. صَبٌّ حَماهُ الوجدُ طيبَ الكرَى

    وجِسمُهُ للسُّقمِ نَهبٌ مُباحْ

    A lovesick man: longing denied him sweet sleep,

    and his body is fair game for sickness.

  5. مُخاطِرٌ يركب هولَ الهَوى

    أمّاً وأمّاً مثلَ ضرب القِداحْ

    A risk-taker, he rides into love's terrors,

    now this way, now that, like casting lot-arrows.

  6. يا صاحِ ما أصحاكَ عن سَكْرَتي

    عَقْلِي بأحْوى ذِي مِراحٍ ورَاحْ

    O friend, how sober you are beside the twin intoxications

    of my mind, from a dark-lipped beauty with mirth and wine!

  7. مُهفْهَفٍ صحَّت على سُقمِها

    جُفونُه فهي مِراضٌ صِحاحْ

    Slender-waisted: sound despite their sickness

    are his eyelids—ailing, yet sound.

  8. لِطَرفِه فَتكةُ بِيضِ الظُّبا

    وقَدِّه هزّةُ سُمرِ الرِّماحْ

    His glance has the deadliness of gleaming sword-edges,

    and his figure the sway of tawny spears.

  9. شمسُ نهارٍ تَرتدي بالدّجى

    غُصنٌ مُراحٌ فوق حِقفٍ رَدَاحْ

    A daytime sun, cloaked in darkness,

    a wind-swayed branch above a broad, curving dune.

  10. طَافَ عَلينا والدّجى راكدٌ

    يُظلُّنا من جُنحِه بالجنَاحْ

    He came round to us—while night lay still,

    sheltering us beneath the wing of its gloom—

  11. بقهوةٍ مِن خدِّه أَشرَقت

    ونَشْرُها الضّائِعُ من فيهِ فَاحْ

    with wine made radiant by his cheek,

    and its spreading fragrance wafted from his mouth.

  12. فَظَلْتُ في أَمْنِ غرَامِي به

    من كلِّ واشٍ ورَقيبٍ ولاَحْ

    So I remained secure in my passion for him,

    from every talebearer, watcher, and reprover,

  13. في حِنْدِسَيْ طُرَّتِه والدّجَى

    ونَيِّرَيْ غُرَّتِه والصّباحْ

    in the twin darknesses of his forelock and the night,

    and the twin lights of his brow and the dawn,

  14. بغبطةٍ جادَت على بُخلِها

    بها اللّيالي غَلَطاً لاَ سماحْ

    in bliss that, despite their stinginess,

    the nights bestowed by mistake, not out of generosity,

  15. حتَى قَضى الدّهرُ بتفريقنا

    فما احتيالي في القضاءِ المُتاحْ

    until Time decreed our separation—

    so what recourse have I against ordained fate?