هَذا كِتابي لأَحبابي الّذين نَأوا

وَلَم يَدَعْ بُعْدُهُم في القَلبِ مِن رَمَقِ

This is my book for my loved ones who went away

And their distance did not leave any life in my heart

لَقَد جَعَلت بَياضَ العَينِ لي ورقا

كَتَبتُهُ بِسوادِ العَينِ وَالحَدقِ

I have made the white of my eye as paper for me

I wrote it with the blackness of my eye and pupil

فَتّشت عِندي عَلى أَغلى سواه فَما

وَجَدتُ أَغلى لَهُ مِن ذَلكَ الورقِ

I searched within me for what is more precious than it but

I did not find anything more precious to it than that paper