بَعُدَتْ دارهُمْ ووجدي قريبُ

والجوى مَوطِني وَصَبري غَريبُ

Their homes are far away, yet my torment is near,

And my passion is my home, though patience is a stranger here.

أَيُّ شيءٍ يَكون أَفجعَ عندي

من مُحِبٍّ قَد بانَ عَنه الحَبيبُ

What is there that hurts me more

Than a lover from whom the beloved has grown apart?

قَد تَساوَتْ بالسقم منَّا عيونٌ

حينَ بانَتْ بالبَيْنِ منَّا قلوبُ

Our eyes are equally sick with yearning

Since our hearts have been sundered by separation.