عَلى وَجهِهِ سارَ نَملُ العِذار

وَقَد كادَ يَخرجُ عنهُ العِذارْ

On his face went the procession of excuses

And the excuses were about to come out of him

فَقَالَ لي أَينَ أَروحُ وَما لي

سِوى نارِ خَدّي مَأوى ودار

So he said to me, where can I go and what is for me

Other than the fire of my cheeks, an abode and home