حَنتي حانِياتُ الدَّهر حَتَّى

كأَنِّي خاتِلٌ يَدنُو لِصَيدِ

My sorrow has wearied me for so long

As if I were a hunter drawing near his prey

قَريبُ الخَطوِ يَحَسبُ مَن رآني

ولَستُ مُقَيَّداً أَنَّى بِقَيدِ

Those who see me think my steps are close

Yet I am not confined by any bond