1. O brother of the soul, who will mend my tent poles,
Oh my sorrow, while you are in shackles,

2. Who will comfort my heart, now possessed by despair,
My grieving soul, and my wandering spirit,

3. Alas, who will help me assemble these rhymes,
For I have lost control over their reins,

4. O muse of poetry, give me what you wish from it,
And be inspired, O maidens of revelation,

5. Help me with it, for I have become a fowler,
So I hunted it and mended my tent poles,

6. Help me with it to eulogize a friend,
They buried him under gravel and rubble,

7. And O friend, O my longing for him,
And my yearning, my burning, and my raving,

8. O brother of the soul, alas if only,
You had bid me farewell or greeted me with peace,

9. O brother of the soul, how could fate,
Issue a death sentence upon you,

10. How could you execute it yourself, O you,
Without fear or hesitation,

11. And O friend, ah but how can life be pure,
With such harsh decrees,

12. How can staying in the abode of betrayal, deceit, death and disease be sweet to me,
How can I relish the cup of misery before,

13. I drink it, though it is my goal and purpose,
If only when it made you drink this anguish,

14. It had made me drink the cup of pigeons,
My soul yearns for the youth of my peer,

15. They shrouded him, and my bloody heart burned,
My soul yearns for chivalry, loyalty, nobility and lofty feelings,

16. The branch has withered though it was verdant,
The flowers have faded though tucked in buds,

17. And the carpet was folded when they buried him,
So leave me be, O censurers,

18. Break the lute and cups, for there is no need,
For lute or cups of wine,

19. And turn the penitents away from me,
For the tavern of love and melodies has shut down,

20. O my friend, have you not heard my wailing,
Like the wailing of a suckling at weaning?

21. And my moaning, have you not heard my moaning,
Unlike any moaning of doves?

22. And O friend, O my longing for him,
And my yearning, my burning, and my raving,

23. I wish when they accused him of weakness, they had tasted,
Some of what he tasted of days,

24. And they claimed he was a coward while among them,
Not one faced misery with a smile,

25. For it is injustice to torture the noble,
And let the vile outlive the dignified,

26. And it is unfair to die before fulfilling,
A dream, O squandered dreams,

27. And O friend, O my longing for him,
And my yearning, my burning, and my raving,

28. The nights' turns broke his body,
And the world of tyrants threw him into misery,

29. And made him drink the draft of despair in gulps,
Yes, by God, cups after cups,

30. And O friend, O my longing for him,
And my yearning, my burning, and my raving,

31. I used to complain to you of my soul's sorrows,
Around that dimly-lit shore,

32. So you would console me, and consolers do not tire,
And I would forget my pain,

33. How we swam together, indulging,
In the sky of fantasy and illusions,

34. And we stayed up together, slept and woke up,
And sat together year after year,

35. And with time we killed nights of travel,
With singing or sweet talk,

36. And we played on the sand with friends,
Until it was time for sleep,

37. What memories that ignite,
Sparks and oh what sparks in the heart,

38. And O friend, O my longing for him,
And my yearning, my burning, and my raving,

39. My cup is empty, and my will is defeated,
I have declared my submission to despair,

40. I cannot deflect the nights' turns,
Though unwilling, I have sheathed my sword,

41. And O friend, O my longing for him,
And my yearning, my burning, and my raving,

42. O my martyred friend, sleep comfortably,
And leave us to live like cattle,

43. Sleep, for my last day is not one of building,
So when, I wonder, will the arrow find its target?

44. Sleep, for staying in the grave is better,
For the noble and dignified among the vile,

45. Upon your innocent soul, Abdullah,
A thousand greetings and peace.