عَلى وَجهِهِ سارَ نَملُ العِذار

عَلى وَجهِهِ سارَ نَملُ العِذار

وَقَد كادَ يَخرجُ عنهُ العِذارْ

وَقَد كادَ يَخرجُ عنهُ العِذارْ

Across his face crept the ants of cheek-down,

On his face went the procession of excuses

And the cheek-down almost left it.

And the excuses were about to come out of him

فَقَالَ لي أَينَ أَروحُ وَما لي

فَقَالَ لي أَينَ أَروحُ وَما لي

سِوى نارِ خَدّي مَأوى ودار

سِوى نارِ خَدّي مَأوى ودار

Then he said to me, "Where can I go, when I have

So he said to me, where can I go and what is for me

No refuge or home but the fire of my cheek?"

Other than the fire of my cheeks, an abode and home