1. لا يُبعِدِ اللَهُ فِتياناً رُزِئتُهُمُ

    رُزءَ الغُصونِ وَفيها الماءُ وَالوَرَقُ

    May God not banish the young men I have lost,

    as one loses branches still full of sap and leaves.

  2. إِن يَرحَلوا اليَومَ عَن داري فَإِنَّهُمُ

    جيرانُ قَلبي أَقاموا بَعدَما اِنطَلَقوا

    If they leave my home today, they are still

    neighbors of my heart, remaining after they have gone.

  3. بانوا فَكُلُّ نَعيمٍ بَعدَهُم كَمَدٌ

    باقٍ وَكُلُّ مَساغٍ بَعدَهُم شَرَقُ

    They have gone; every pleasure after them is grief

    that endures, and every swallow after them brings choking.

  4. أَراكَ تَجزَعُ لِلقَومِ الَّذينَ مَضَوا

    فَهَل أَمِنتَ عَلى القَومِ الَّذينَ بَقوا

    I see you grieving for the people who have passed away;

    are you then sure those who remain are safe?

  5. لا يَلبَثُ المَرءُ يُبلي شَرخَ جِدَّتِهِ

    مِنَ الزَمانِ جَديدٌ ما لَهُ خَلَقُ

    A man does not last long: his youthful prime is worn away

    by ever-new time, which never wears out.

  6. هَدى الغَرامُ دُموعي في مَسالِكِهِ

    عَلَيهُمِ وَأَضَلَّت صَبرِيَ الطُرُقُ

    Love guided my tears along its paths

    for them, while the roads led my patience astray.

  7. وَكَيفَ يَنعَمُ بِالتَغميضِ بَعدَهُمُ

    عَينٌ أَعانَ عَلَيها الدَمعُ وَالأَرَقُ

    And how can closing bring comfort after them

    to an eye against which tears and sleeplessness have joined forces?

  8. إِنّي لَأُعجَبُ بَعدَ اليَومِ مِن كَبِدٍ

    تَدمى لَهُم كَيفَ تَندى وَهيَ تَحتَرِقُ

    I am indeed amazed, after today, at a liver

    that bleeds for them—how can it be moist while it burns?