اونّ ورياح الليالي  تونّي

اونّ ورياح الليالي تونّي

و البرد في جوفٍ كما الغار  خاوي

و البرد في جوفٍ كما الغار خاوي

I moan, and the winds of the nights make me moan.

I moan, and the winds of nights torment me,

And cold lies in my depths, hollow as a cave.

And the cold inside is empty like a cave,

ما كنّ لي عقلٍ ولا قلب  كنّي

ما كنّ لي عقلٍ ولا قلب كنّي

جذعٍ وقف في وجه الأيام  ذاوي

جذعٍ وقف في وجه الأيام ذاوي

As though I had neither mind nor heart—as though I were

I had no mind or heart, as if I were

A withered trunk standing in the face of the days.

A trunk standing in the face of fading days,

وبي عبرةٍ محبوسةٍ  تمتحنّي

وبي عبرةٍ محبوسةٍ تمتحنّي

في عيني وْحلقي و صدي شكاوي

في عيني وْحلقي و صدي شكاوي

And within me is a pent-up tear that torments me,

And I have confined anguish that tries me

In my eye and throat, and in the echo of laments.

In my eyes, throat, and complaining chest,

وبي من قديم الوقت جرحٍ  مكنّي

وبي من قديم الوقت جرحٍ مكنّي

وبي من جديد أيام وقتي  مكاوي

وبي من جديد أيام وقتي مكاوي

And within me is a wound from long ago, firmly lodged.

And I have a wound from ancient times that hurt me,

And within me are searing brands from the recent days of my life.

And I have new days and my time burns me,

ان قلت زانت خالف الوقت  ظنّي

ان قلت زانت خالف الوقت ظنّي

و أن قلت هانت عاجلتني بلاوي

و أن قلت هانت عاجلتني بلاوي

If I say things have improved, time defies my expectations.

If I say it disgraced me, time opposed my assumption,

And if I say things have eased, calamities strike me unawares.

And if I say it humiliated me, it hastened calamities upon me,

اجامل ايام ولا  جاملنّي

اجامل ايام ولا جاملنّي

هامت بي الدنيا هيام  الخلاوي

هامت بي الدنيا هيام الخلاوي

I humor the days, but they do not humor me.

Days flatter me, and do not flatter me,

The world has carried me wandering, as al-Khalawi wandered.

The world swooped at me in empty swoops,

و الوقت جاير و الليالي أسهرنّي

و الوقت جاير و الليالي أسهرنّي

و الحزن ما بين الضلوع  مْتلاوي

و الحزن ما بين الضلوع مْتلاوي

And time is unjust, and the nights have kept me awake.

And time passes by, and nights keep me awake,

And sorrow coils between my ribs.

And sadness is curled up among my ribs,

أون وكلٍ يحسب أنّي أغنّي

أون وكلٍ يحسب أنّي أغنّي

عليل و كلٍ يحسب أنّي مداوي

عليل و كلٍ يحسب أنّي مداوي

I moan, and everyone thinks I am singing.

I moan, and everyone thinks I am singing,

I am ailing, yet everyone thinks I am a healer.

I am sick, and everyone thinks I am healing.