1. How sorrowful my nights have been with all I've faced,
Tossed between sleep and restless wakefulness.

2. Forbidden from my hopes, denied what my soul
And my eyes yearn for in their loveliness.

3. My tears flow in sickness, my longing so plain,
And in weeping my two eyes compete nonetheless.

4. I came and was diverted from all my pains
By praising Muhammad, father of Al-Hussein.

5. In him I find comfort from life's bitterness,
Patience's armor spares me my distress.

6. The passage of these nights brings me no peace,
I wake still yearning, my wishing no less.

7. In my blood I dipped the quill of my tear,
Beyond Farazdaq and Ibn Jini's finesse.

8. I gathered the arts of friends of old,
But found no subtlety to match my own kness.

9. The doves have sung since seeing me here,
My sorrows moved me to sing no less.

10. My friends, remember what I have been,
Rapturous nearly, or so I profess.

11. And forget not my apologetic words,
For in your good graces I hope to rest.

12. The days of my childhood are done with me,
Gone too the blessings I knew, nonetheless.