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Your death has cured me of envy and malice

شفى موتك الحساد مني والعدا

1. Your death has cured me of envy and malice
Yet they forget me, so I find relief from their herding

١. شَفى مَوتُكَ الحسّادُ مِنّي وَالعِدا
وَلكِن نَسوني فَاِستَرَحتُ أَن اِرعَوَوا

2. Whenever I set out, they stretch their eyes
And if the world told my star: "Shine!" - they would say "Blind him!"

٢. وَكُنتُ إِذا أَقبَلتُ مَدّوا عُيونهم
وَإِن قالَتِ الدُنيا لنَجمي أَنِر عووا