أَلم تَسمَعي أَي عَبدَ في رَونَقِ الصُحى

بُكاءَ حَماماتٍ لَهُنَّ هَديرُ

Haven't you heard, O slave, in the morning's splendor

The weeping of doves with their cooing murmur?

بَكَينَ فَهَيّجنَ اِشتِياقي وَلوعَتي

وَقَد مَرَّ مِن عَهدِ اللِقاءِ دُهورُ

Their crying aroused my yearning and agony

Though ages have passed since we last met.