Yabki Wa Yadhak - Fairuz перевод на английский

Yabki Wa Yadhak

يبكي ويضحك لا حزناً ولا فرحاً
كعاشق خطّ سطراً في الهوى ومحا
يبكي ويضحك لا حزناً ولا فرحاً
كعاشق خطّ سطراً في الهوى ومحا

من بسمة النجم همسٌ في قصائده
ومن مخالسة الظبي الذي سنحَ
قلب تمرّس باللذات وهو فتىً
كبرعم لمسَتْه الريح فانفتحَ

يبكي ويضحك لا حزناً ولا فرحاً
كعاشق خطّ سطراً في الهوى ومحا

من بسمة النجم همسٌ في قصائده
ومن مخالسة الظبي الذي سنحَ
قلب تمرّس باللذات وهو فتىً
كبرعم لمسَتْه الريح فانفتحَ

ما للأقاحية السمراء قد صرفتْ
عنا هواها، أرق الحسن ماسمحَ

ما للأقاحية السمراء قد صرفتْ
عنا هواها، أرق الحسن ماسمحَ

لو كنت تدرين ما ألقاه من شجن
لكنت أرفقَ من آسَى ومن صفحَ

ما للأقاحية السمراء قد صرفتْ
عنا هواها، أرق الحسن ماسمحَ

لو كنت تدرين ما ألقاه من شجن
لكنت أرفقَ من آسَى ومن صفحَ

غداة لوحت بالآمال باسمةً
لانَ الذي ثارَ وانقاد الذي جمحَ

غداة لوحت بالآمال باسمةً
لانَ الذي ثارَ وانقاد الذي جمحَ

غداة لوحت بالآمال باسمةً
لانَ الذي ثارَ وانقاد الذي جمحَ

فالروض مهما زهت قفْرٌ إذا حُرمت
من جانح رّفّ أو من صادح صدح

يبكي ويضحك لا حزناً ولا فرحاً
كعاشق خطّ سطراً في الهوى ومحا

He Cries and Laughs

He cries and laughs, neither from sorrow nor from joy,
Like a lover who wrote a line about love and then erased it.
He cries and laughs, neither from sorrow nor from joy,
Like a lover who wrote a line about love and then erased it.

From the star's smile, a whisper in his poems,
And from keeping company with the gazelle that appeared.
A heart trained in pleasures while still young,
Like a bud touched by the wind, it opened.

He cries and laughs, neither from sorrow nor from joy,
Like a lover who wrote a line about love and then erased it.

From the star's smile, a whisper in his poems,
And from keeping company with the gazelle that appeared.
A heart trained in pleasures while still young,
Like a bud touched by the wind, it opened.

Why has the dark-skinned anemone turned away
Her love from us? The most delicate beauty hasn't allowed it.

Why has the dark-skinned anemone turned away
Her love from us? The most delicate beauty hasn't allowed it.

If you knew the sorrow I bear,
You would be more compassionate than one who pities and forgives.

Why has the dark-skinned anemone turned away
Her love from us? The most delicate beauty hasn't allowed it.

If you knew the sorrow I bear,
You would be more compassionate than one who pities and forgives.

On the morning you waved with hopes, smiling,
He who rebelled yielded, and he who bolted was tamed.

On the morning you waved with hopes, smiling,
He who rebelled yielded, and he who bolted was tamed.

On the morning you waved with hopes, smiling,
He who rebelled yielded, and he who bolted was tamed.

For the meadow, however flourishing, is a wasteland if deprived
Of a leaning branch or a singing bird.

He cries and laughs, neither from sorrow nor from joy,
Like a lover who wrote a line about love and then erased it.