يا أَيُّها الرَكب اِنّي غَير تابِعُكُم

يا أَيُّها الرَكب اِنّي غَير تابِعُكُم

حَتّى تُلِّموا وَانتُم بي مُلِمّونا

حَتّى تُلِّموا وَانتُم بي مُلِمّونا

O riders, indeed I shall not follow you

O caravan, I do not follow you

Until you stop by—and you are to call upon me.

Until you guide me while I guide you

فَما اِرى مِثلُكُم رَكباً كَشَكلُكُم

فَما اِرى مِثلُكُم رَكباً كَشَكلُكُم

يَدعوهُم ذو الهَوى الا يَعوجونا

يَدعوهُم ذو الهَوى الا يَعوجونا

For I see no riders like you, of your kind,

I do not see a caravan like yours

Whom a lover calls without their turning aside.

In appearance, called crooked by passion but they do not swerve

ام خَبِّروني عَن دائي يَعلمكُم

ام خَبِّروني عَن دائي يَعلمكُم

وَاِعلَم الناس بِالداءِ الاطَبّونا

وَاِعلَم الناس بِالداءِ الاطَبّونا

Or tell me of my ailment—“he knows you” (unclear in the supplied text).

Or inform me of my malady—you know it

And the people most knowledgeable about illness are the physicians.

And none but physicians know the disease