Ḣabiibe
L ġaar xa mawxadu min Adaar la Ayyaar
Zahhar, wil indawl ṡaar ycixx najm aṡfar bayn ṡṡḱur
Faw` tleel ġaṫṫaaha l aḱḋar biġarrid l xaṡfur
Talj li jbeel bidub, ṡaffa nnahir aḣmar
Caklik ya arḋ marsume mitl jfun mġammaḋa
Xyunik madfune, dmuxik drub mra``aṫa
Minna btiṫlax li zhur, xiṫra ṫṫare bifuḣ
Lli ceefik ceef aḣla kawn bi lawḣa biluḣ
Machadik maxraḋ fii mawt w aleem, sayf carrad
L muna wil aḣleem, xa jbiinik l jalii jarrad
L waḣi wil maneem, ikliilik cawk w xunfuween
Sa`altak ya weedi xan ḣabiibe, sihyeen
Ka`annak, w ka`anne, ġir`een b ni`ṫit ilheem,
Ḣabiibe cifto, xindak lta`aḣ, ġife, neem
Copyright March 5, 2010 Hicham Khalil Bourjaili
Our Lady of Lebanon, Waterbury, Connecticut, USA
English Version
My Beloved
The laurel blossomed on time from March to May
The yellow flowers of the bushes between the rocks were shining stars
Above the hills covered with green, birds were chirping
The snow of the mountains was melting, the rivers turned red
O land, you are shaped after closed eyes
Buried like springs, your tears are speckled paths
With flowers blossoming, spreading sweet perfumes
Who saw you has seen the most beautiful universe, by your image revealed
Your sight displayed death and suffering, a sword scattering
Desires and dreams on your glorious front cleared
The inspiration and the sleep, your crown was made of thorns and boldness
I asked you, o valley, about my beloved, distracted
You seemed, I was like drowning in a drop of enlightenment,
I saw my beloved, at your bosom falling, closing his eyes and sleeping
Copyright March 5, 2010 Hicham Khalil Bourjaili
Our Lady of Lebanon, Waterbury, Connecticut, USA
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