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My joys have been plundered by armies of sorrow,

ألوت بعساكر الأسى أفراحي

1. My joys have been plundered by armies of sorrow,
When the cup continuously refilled my spirits.

١. أَلوت بِعَساكِر الأَسى أَفراحي
إِذ واصلَ كأسي مَدَدَ الأَرواحِ

2. In the battlefield of worries and drinking cups,
I shed blood that destroys comfort and kills peace.

٢. في مُعتَرَكِ الهُموم والأَقداحِ
أَحللتُ دَم الزِقِّ وَقَتلَ الراحِ