1. My liver is torn to pieces,
And its coals are stoked by inner pain.

2. No living soul dies of grief for a dead one -
I'm more grieved than a parent for a child.

3. O God's mercy, be my grave-mate
In which I've buried my madness by my hand.

4. And light up the gloom of graves for one
Whose darkness hasn't reached anyone.

5. One devoid of all lastingness,
Of fine spirit and pure body.

6. O Death, you took away Yahya,
Neither peevish nor morose.

7. O his death, if only you'd spared his stumbling,
O his day, if only you'd left him for tomorrow!

8. O Death, if only you hadn't been so quick to take him -
No doubt he'd have been the paragon of the country.

9. Or had you slackened the rein for him,
He'd have attained the heights and commanded the future.

10. What sword have you deprived of its edge?
What soul have you drained from what body?

11. What leg have you lopped from what foot?
What palm have you removed from what arm?

12. O a moon eclipsed before reaching its fullness in number!
What grief for which you haven't moaned?

13. What eye for him hasn't overflowed?
I've no composure or endurance left after him -

14. I'm dispossessed of endurance and fortitude through him.
If I hadn't died inwardly when he died,

15. I'd have deserved to die of my inner pain.
What intense pain won't stop stoking

16. The fire of anguish upon my liver!