ذِكراهُ تُشرِقُني بِالدَمعِ وَا حزنا

وَقلّ بِالدَمعِ لِلمَحزونِ إِشراقُ

Her memory illuminates me with tears, not sorrow,

His memory chokes me with tears—oh, what sorrow,

And seldom do tears illuminate the sorrowful.

And rarely, in tears, does the grieving find light.

ألَم يَكُن مِن دَراريِّ العُلا قَمَراً

لَهُ إِذا غابَتِ الأَقمارُ إِشراقُ

Was he not a full moon of loftiness?

Was he not a moon among the shining stars of glory,

His illuminating never ceases, even when moons have set.

Possessing radiance when the other moons have set?