1. يا ليتَ عيني تَحمَّلت ألمكَ

    بل ليتَ نَفسي تَقسَّمت سَقمَك

    Oh, if only my eye had borne your pain—

    no, if only my soul had shared out your sickness.

  2. وليت كفَّ الطبيب إذ فَصَدَت

    عرقَكَ أَجرَت مِن ناظِرَيَّ دَمَك

    And if only the physician’s hand, when it opened

    your vein, had drawn your blood from my eyes.

  3. أَعَرتهَ صبغَ وَجنَتَيك كما

    تُعيرُه إن لثمتَ مَن لَثَمَك

    I would have lent it the hue of your cheeks, just as

    you lend it when you kiss whoever has kissed you.

  4. طَرفُك أمضَى من حَدٍّ مبِضَعه

    فالَحظ به العِرقَ وارتجز ألمك

    Your glance is keener than the edge of his lancet;

    so glance with it at the vein, and chant your pain.