لمقليهِ لَيلٌ لَهُ مِن هُمُومِهِ

لمقليهِ لَيلٌ لَهُ مِن هُمُومِهِ

دُجاهُ وَمِن وَجدٍ تَضَمَّنَ دائِمُه

دُجاهُ وَمِن وَجدٍ تَضَمَّنَ دائِمُه

For his eyes there is a night that draws from his cares

For the afflicted, the night has sorrows of its own,

its darkness, while its enduring gloom harbors yearning.

Its darkness and constant grief envelop him.

كَأَنَّ سَوادَ الشَّوقِ جَيشٌ مُدَرَّعٌ

كَأَنَّ سَوادَ الشَّوقِ جَيشٌ مُدَرَّعٌ

تَريَّثَ فيهِ خَوفَ صُبحٍ يُهاجِمُه

تَريَّثَ فيهِ خَوفَ صُبحٍ يُهاجِمُه

As though the blackness of longing were an armored army

As if the blackness of yearning were an armored army

that lingered within it, fearing a dawn that would attack it.

That lingered in wait for the assault of dawn.

وَأَبطأَ عَنهُ الصُّبحُ حَتَّى كَأَنَّهُ

وَأَبطأَ عَنهُ الصُّبحُ حَتَّى كَأَنَّهُ

رَأى مِن سَوادِ اللَّيل ما لا يُقاوِمُه

رَأى مِن سَوادِ اللَّيل ما لا يُقاوِمُه

And dawn was so slow to reach it that it seemed

The dawn was late in coming, as though

to have seen in the night's blackness what it could not withstand.

It saw in the night's darkness what it could not withstand.

تَجاوَبُ فيهِ وُرقُهُ فَكَأَنَّها

تَجاوَبُ فيهِ وُرقُهُ فَكَأَنَّها

تَبُثُّ حَديثاً بِالنَّهارِ تُكاتِمُه

تَبُثُّ حَديثاً بِالنَّهارِ تُكاتِمُه

Its gray doves answer one another within it, as though they

Its leaves whisper as if

were divulging a tale they keep secret by day.

Sharing secrets with the day that it keeps hidden.

كَأَنَّ سَوادَ اللَّيلِ ماتَ صَباحُهُ

كَأَنَّ سَوادَ اللَّيلِ ماتَ صَباحُهُ

فَقامَت عَلَيهِ بِالرِّثاءِ حَمَائِمُه

فَقامَت عَلَيهِ بِالرِّثاءِ حَمَائِمُه

As though the night's darkness had lost its morning to death,

As if the night's darkness died at dawn

so its doves rose to lament it.

And its doves performed the elegy.