يَقولُ العاذِلاتُ تَسَلَّ عَنها

يَقولُ العاذِلاتُ تَسَلَّ عَنها

وَداوِ غَليلَ قَلبِكَ بِالسُلُوِّ

وَداوِ غَليلَ قَلبِكَ بِالسُلُوِّ

The reproaching women say, “Forget her,

The forsaken say, forget about her

and soothe your heart’s burning longing with forgetfulness.”

And cure the sickness in your heart with patience

فَكَيفَ وَنَظرَةٌ مِنها اِختِلاساً

فَكَيفَ وَنَظرَةٌ مِنها اِختِلاساً

أَلَذُّ مِنَ الشَماتَةِ بِالعَدُوِّ

أَلَذُّ مِنَ الشَماتَةِ بِالعَدُوِّ

But how, when a stolen glance from her

Yet how can that be when a stolen glance from her

is sweeter than gloating over the enemy’s misfortune?

Is sweeter than gloating over an enemy's misfortune