وَحَدَّثتُ نَفسي أَنَّني غَيرُ صابِرٍ

فَها أَنا ذا لَم أَقضِ مِن إِثرِها نَحبي

I told myself that I had no patience

Yet here I am, still longing for her

خَليلَيَّ لَم أَصدُق وَكانَ سَفاهَةً

رُجوعي بِحُسنِ الظَنِّ مِنها عَلى قَلبي

My friend, I did not believe you though you spoke true

To think she still cared for me was foolish of my heart

فَأُقسِمُ أَن لَو كُنتُ أَوَّلَ مَيِّت

وَآخرَ مَنشورٍ يَهُبُّ مِنَ التُّربِ

I swear, if I were the first to die

And the last to rise from the dust

لما كانَ مِن مَوتي عَلَيها صَبابَةً

قَضاء لِما اِستَرعَيتُ مِن ذِمَّةِ الحُبِّ

My death would not quench her thirst

For what she demanded of love’s bond