وَدَّعْتُها ولَهِيبُ الشّوْقِ في كَبِدي

والبَيْنُ يُبْعِدُ بينَ الرُّوحِ والجسَدِ

I bid her farewell, with yearning aflame in my heart,

And separation stretches between spirit and flesh.

وَدَاعَ صَبّيْنِ لَمْ يُمْكِنْ وَدَاعهما

إِلاَّ بلَحْظَةِ عَيْنٍ أَوْ بَنانِ يَدِ

The farewell of two loves was no easy parting -

Just a fleeting glance from an eye or touch of a hand.

وَدَّعْتُها لِفِراقٍ فاشْتَكَتْ كَبِدِي

إِذْ شَبّكَتْ يَدَها مِنْ لَوْعَةٍ بِيَدِي

I bid her farewell and my liver complained

As she clutched my hand to ease her torment.

وحاذَرَتْ أَعْيُنَ الواشِينَ فانْصَرَفَتْ

تَعَضُّ مِنْ غَيْظِها العُنّابَ بالبَرَدِ

She shunned the spying eyes and turned away,

Gnawing her lip in anger and distress.

فكانَ أَوَّلُ عَهْدِ العَيْنِ يومَ نَأَتْ

بالدَّمْعِ آخِرُ عَهْدِ القَلْبِ بالجَلَدِ

It was the eyes' first farewell that brought

Tears last of all from my resilient heart.

جَسَّ الطّبيبَ يَدي جَهْلاً فقلتُ لهُ

إِنَّ المَحَبّةَ في قَلْبي فَخَلِّ يَدي

The doctor felt my hand in ignorance, so I said

"Love lies in my heart - leave my hand be."

ليسَ اصْفِراري لِحُمّى خامَرَتْ بَدَني

لكنَّ نارَ الهوى تَلْتَاحُ في كَبِدِي

My pallor is not from fever coursing my frame,

But fires of passion consuming my heart.

فقال هذا سَقَامٌ لا دَواءَ لَهُ

إِلاَّ بِرُؤْيَةِ مَنْ تَهْواهُ يا سَنَدِي

He said "This is an illness with no cure

Except seeing she whom you adore, my friend."