أنا محزونٌ فمن يبكي مَعِي
لا أخٌ يشركُني في جَزَعي
I am sorrow-stricken—who, then, will weep with me?
No brother have I to share my anguish.
حَسُنَ الدمعُ بعيني إنَّها
لا ترى من كُلُّه من بِدَعِ
Tears have grown lovely in my eye, for it
sees no other wonder anywhere in all the world.
أقطع الدهر بجسمٍ دنَفٍ
وفؤادٍ مستهامٍ وَجِعِ
I pass the years with a body wasted by sickness,
while my heart is love-distraught and aching.
وقَفَ الحزنُ عليهِ نفسَه
ورمى عاذلَهُ بالوَلَعِ
And grief has devoted itself wholly to my heart,
and accused the heart’s reproacher of love-madness.
Sol 5.6