1. O dwellers of Egypt, my hand has become accustomed to separation,
My sorrow has become like Abu Lahab.

2. And my innermost being, from the intensity of love and affection,
Is laden with concerns, or laden like one who carries wood.

3. Do not speak, O seer, of the sea and its wonders,
About my weeping and the dew on the hand of the prince.

4. The prince, keeper of the kingdom, though he needs no veil,
The light of awe is enough to veil him.

5. O you who revived me when I stayed in Damascus and in
Teflis I lost my money and tears flowed in Aleppo.

6. Histories dictate to us and inform us
Of masters of highest rank and position.

7. But you, with your nobility, show us in reality,
And the sword is more truthful than books in its tidings.