1. The sorrowful heirloom with its harm, indeed,
Has stripped grief away from his patience.

2. His eyes - the more their tear rivers flowed,
The more anguish raged in his chest.

3. Grieving the two moons whose light are my eyes’ bliss -
Layla and Ibrahim, unmatched in his time.

4. May I ransom their beauty that sadness has bereaved,
His sun and his moon with my soul.

5. The poets inform that their chief remains
With nothing left but dirges on his mind.

6. If Ibrahim knew what befell me after him,
He would have wept for me at his grave.

7. Or if the affectionate Layla saw my tears,
She would have rescued the drowning with her sea.

8. O Lord, why have the teardrops pledged
To burn me as if they were embers?

9. Come, O Bountiful, to the aid of the bountiful and his sister
With a full pardon and give me a drink from its droplets.

10. And pour upon the grieving mother and her son
The patience with which worries are folded away.

11. And grant Your servants either respite or a death
That would relieve the sorrow and save me from its evil.

12. For none but You, O Merciful, has the power
To gift respite to the weary from his secret.