1. Alas! Would that I knew, with troubles so rife
When will depart Qais, independent, returning,

2. With my own soul, he who is not self-reliant,
And who is lost, if God Himself not guard him.

3. The doves left me all save a ring-necked one
Who wrought as I, and plighted troth as plighted I.

4. When we, as night came on, had shed our tears,
Our tryst was ever a sun's horn uprising.