سُوَرٌ عِندي لَهُ مَكتوبَةٌ

سُوَرٌ عِندي لَهُ مَكتوبَةٌ

وَدَّ لَو يَسري بِها الروحُ الأَمين

وَدَّ لَو يَسري بِها الروحُ الأَمين

I have chapters written for him.

I have a wall with writing on it

He wished the Trustworthy Spirit would carry them by night.

If only the trusted soul would flow through it

إِنَّني لا آمَنُ الرُسلَ وَلا

إِنَّني لا آمَنُ الرُسلَ وَلا

آمَنُ الكُتبَ عَلى ما تَحتَوين

آمَنُ الكُتبَ عَلى ما تَحتَوين

Indeed, I do not trust the messengers, nor

I do not believe the messengers nor

do I trust the books with what you contain.

Do I believe the books for what they contain

مُستَهينٌ بِالَّذي كابَدتُهُ

مُستَهينٌ بِالَّذي كابَدتُهُ

وَهوَ لا يَدري بِماذا يَستَهين

وَهوَ لا يَدري بِماذا يَستَهين

He makes light of what I have endured,

Disdaining what I have endured

and he does not know what he makes light of.

While he does not know what to disdain

أَنا في هَمٍّ وَيَأسٍ وَأَسىً

أَنا في هَمٍّ وَيَأسٍ وَأَسىً

حاضِرُ اللَوعَةِ مَوصولُ الأَنين

حاضِرُ اللَوعَةِ مَوصولُ الأَنين

I am in worry, despair, and sorrow,

I am in worry, despair and grief

my anguish ever present, my groaning unbroken.

Present is heartache, connected is lament