إِنّي مِن صَدِّكَ في لَوعةٍ

تَغوّلَت لُبّي وهَاضت جَناح

Indeed, from your rejection, I am in sorrow

My core is churned up and my wing droops

لَستُ على سُخطِكَ جَلدَ القُوى

ولا على هَجرك شاكي السّلاح

I am not with your anger, hardy

Nor with your abandonment, armed with weapons

وما أَنا حين تُؤذِنُني بِصرمٍ

ربيطُ الجَأشِ متّسعُ الخِناقِ

When you hurt me, I am not

Relaxed and easy, though my throat is constrained