يا أيُّها المَحرومُ قاصِدُهُ

ما لَم يكُن ذا شَهوةٍ شَبِقا

O you who is deprived of what he desires

Nothing that was without yearning and longing

ويَظلُّ نائِكُه وتارِكُهُ

يَتَعاقَبانِ سَعادةً وشَقا

His wailing and leaving it

Take turns being bliss and torment