1. أمَّا الهوى فَكما عهدت أكيدُ

    والشوق يا ذات الوشاح شديدُ

    As for love, it is steadfast, just as you knew it;

    and longing, O wearer of the sash, is intense.

  2. فارقتني ولكل عضوٍ رّنةٌ

    ولكلّ جفنٍ مَنْهَلٌ مورود

    You left me, and every limb has a lament,

    and every eyelid a watering place much frequented.

  3. وطَمِعْتُ بعدَك بالسَّلو فخانني

    أنَّ السلو كماً علمتَ بعيد

    After you left, I hoped for solace, but it failed me;

    solace, as you know, is far beyond reach.

  4. كم ذا التّعللُ بالمنى وإلى متى

    بعسى وليتَ وليس ذاك يفيد

    How long this self-consoling with wishes, and how long

    with 'perhaps' and 'if only,' when none of that avails?

  5. لا الدربُ بعدَكم على العهد الذي

    كنتم ولا ماء الحُصيب بَرود

    Since you left, the lane is no longer as it was

    when you were here, nor is al-Ḥuṣayb's water cool.

  6. والأثل غير الأثْل أيْمنَ رَادع

    هيهاتَ قَلّص ظُلُه الممدودُ

    And the tamarisk is not the same tamarisk to the right of Rādiʿ;

    alas, its outspread shade has shrunk.

  7. يا رائحين إلى الحِمى والمُنحَنى

    بالله عُودوا مرةً وَنَعودُ

    O travelers to the protected pasture and the bend,

    for God's sake, return once, and we shall return.

  8. عانقتُ أغصانً اللّوى من بعدكم

    وَلَهَا وظني أنَهنَّ قُدودُ

    I embraced the boughs of al-Liwā after you left,

    distraught with longing, believing them to be slender figures.

  9. ورشفت أزهارَ الأقاح كأنَّما

    هي والشقيق مباسمٌ وخُدود

    And I sipped the daisy blossoms, as though

    they and the anemones were smiling mouths and cheeks.

  10. وإذا الظباءُ سَنَحْنَ خلتُ سوالفَا

    مِنكم ولكنْ مَا لهنّ عُقّود

    And when gazelles passed by, I thought their necks

    were yours—but they wore no necklaces.

  11. مالي وتغْريدُ الحَمامِ برادع

    وَسَقامُ جَفني ذلك التغريدُ

    What have I to do with the doves' cooing in Rādiʿ,

    when that cooing is my eyelid's affliction?

  12. وعلام أفرحُ بالمنازلِ لا أرى

    فيهن أحبابي الذينَ أُريدُ

    And why should I rejoice in the dwellings, when I do not see

    within them my loved ones, whom I desire?

  13. يا رايُحاً عَدناً بحيثُ قصورُها

    دون النجوم وبحرُها الممدودُ

    O traveler to Aden, where its palaces

    stand beneath the stars, and its sea stretches wide,

  14. قَبْل اناملَ صارم الدين التي

    حَلّ السماحُ بطبعها والجود

    kiss Ṣārim al-Dīn's fingertips, where

    liberality and generosity have their natural home.