1. You shot me on Saturday morning with an arrow
Of love intentionally, and my death was intended

2. The sleeves of my robe are torn, my chest wounded
A young expert at slicing, excellent at striking

3. Her limbs supple, her youth still blooming
Her temples creased, her promises lying

4. I say, while my soul wavers between longing and sighing
My eyes intent, tears upon my cheek drying

5. Farewell to her whose heart I left behind
Between sorrow and fatigue trying

6. Torment with love when you are near
And death when your heart is stabbed by distance

7. I was clever enough to appreciate kindness
Like the hands of the generous seeking praise

8. I will complain of you in poetry without tiring
To the noble and glorious chief

9. Maybe the Ghassanid youth will bring us together
So my heart finds safety from your rejection