أَعاذِلَتي عَلى إِتعابِ نَفسي

أَعاذِلَتي عَلى إِتعابِ نَفسي

وَرَعيي في السُرى رَوضَ السُهادِ

وَرَعيي في السُرى رَوضَ السُهادِ

O you who reproach me for exhausting myself,

My blame of myself for distressing my soul,

O you who blame me for exhausting my spirit,

and for grazing the meadow of sleeplessness on night journeys—

And my shepherding it in the night pastures of sleep,

And for tending the pastures of sleeplessness in my night travels;

إِذا شامَ الفَتى بَرقَ المَعالي

إِذا شامَ الفَتى بَرقَ المَعالي

فَأَهوَنُ فائِتٍ طيبُ الرُقادِ

فَأَهوَنُ فائِتٍ طيبُ الرُقادِ

when a young man glimpses the lightning of greatness,

When the youth is illuminated by the lightning of glories,

When a young man sights the lightning of high glory,

then the sweetness of slumber is the slightest loss.

The sweetest of missed things is a perfumed sleep.

The sweetness of sleep becomes the lightest loss to bear.