1. My beloved turned away, and my friend turned away
And barrenness withered in my palm and my pen

2. I ask the night, oh my night, about my condition
About my isolation, my waning, and my boredom

3. Where do I begin? My sorrows are shackled
An ocean of sadness from my head to my feet

4. A traveler atop the wave of the letter on paper
I entrusted it with the outpouring of my sorrows and the scent of my blood

5. A traveler, neither my time realizes my journey
Nor the companion of my path shaken by my melody

6. I cry blood when I see "al-Qaeda" returning
Its remnants between captive and defeated

7. Its horses above the line of fire, attacking
Observing the reinforcements coming from nothingness

8. Observing the free Arabs in their blood
"Al-Muthanna" boils and a thousand "Mu'tasim" boil

9. And it did not realize that God's rope is severed
And it fattened for the conquest with this disease

10. I cry blood, oh orbit of poetry, when I see
The cradle of good tidings a spring for every thirsty one

11. Tribes obsessed with the embers of hatred
Fiery of face from "Saida" to "the pyramid"

12. Its black borders destroy under its darkness
The rays of love, kinship and womb relations

13. I cry blood when I see "al-Qaeda" in its hand
A leash it is led by in the "United Nations"

14. Buildings shook and history slapped me
So I wandered between bitter hope and regret

15. I read in his wheaten face an epic
Of suffering and a volcano of pain

16. Yesterday he measured arrogance smiling
And today a gloomy, unsmiling face

17. O my tortured one, this is the tragedy manifest
So look, by your Lord, who is my opponent and my judge?

18. The bits of my horses were implanted in their skulls
And my flag was on their shoulders

19. So my first qiblah became inverted
When I followed the path of ruin with my feet

20. I bid it farewell as I cried over a time
In which truth tomorrow becomes a kind of accusation

21. I cry and I know my size, oh my tortured one
For the worry is bigger than my size and my worry

22. But I carry the burdens with acceptance
For sleep on suffering is not of my morals