1. Stop crying over the memory of my shirt and pants,
And a robe whose branch has withered into decay.

2. Especially as the cold comes with its shivering wind,
While my state is as it used to be in my current state.

3. Do people see me wandering aimlessly,
Dragging my tail behind people in confusion?

4. My evening ends not empty of sorrow
If a home like it spends the night empty.

5. If I sought to tailor a new robe,
What I have would suffice, not needing more money,

6. But I seek a robe of glory,
That my peers may attain greatness like me.

7. How many nights I prayed to Allah thoroughly,
With a cheek and a blossom among roses and basil,

8. Where I nested a full moon inclining,
And did not nestle up to one wearing anklets.

9. I do not cry over names if they are forgotten,
Rather I cry over the loss of my ideals.

10. If Imru’ al-Qays saw what I endure
Of excessive anxiety and confusion,

11. He would not have inclined towards the tents, tents of Unaizah,
Nor spent the night far from her beauty.