وَدُولاب شَكَوت لَهُ غَرامي

وَدُولاب شَكَوت لَهُ غَرامي

فَأَنَّ أَنين ذي شَجن حَزين

فَأَنَّ أَنين ذي شَجن حَزين

And to a waterwheel I complained of my passion;

My love, I confided to the wheel of time

So it groaned like a sorrowful soul burdened with grief.

My sorrowful lament of woeful love.

وَأَرسل دَمعَهُ وَبَكى معيناً

وَأَرسل دَمعَهُ وَبَكى معيناً

وَأَينَ بُكا المعان مِن المَعين

وَأَينَ بُكا المعان مِن المَعين

And it shed its tears, weeping a flowing stream;

It wept with me and sent forth a flood,

Yet how can the weeping of the aided compare with the helper's?

But what is the weeping of fountains to the weeping of passions?

فَما تِلكَ الدُموع سِوى دُموعي

فَما تِلكَ الدُموع سِوى دُموعي

وَلا ذاكَ الحَنين سِوى حَنيني

وَلا ذاكَ الحَنين سِوى حَنيني

For those tears are nothing but my tears,

Those tears are nothing but my tears,

And that plaintive longing is nothing but my longing.

That grief nothing but my grief.