هذا كِتابُ مُتيَّمٍ مُشتاقِ

قَلقٍ عَراهُ لاعِجُ الأَشواقِ

This is the book of a longing lover

Anxious, whom desire has left bare

يَشتَاقُ جِيراناً لَهُ من جِلَّقٍ

ويَهَيهمُ من وَجدٍ رَكوُبَ سِياقِ

He yearns for companions of wit

And reproaches those who mounted the steed of destiny

وَيسائلُ البرقَ اللَّمُوعَ على الحِمَى

عَنهُم بِقلبِ مُدنَفٍ خَفَّاقٍ

He asks the weeping lightning on the hot sand

About them, with a pounding, fluttering heart

وَيَسُحُّ سُحبَ الدَّمعِ بعد فراقِهِم

من فائِض العَبَراتِ والأَحداقِ

And he wipes away the clouds of tears after their absence

From an excess of grief and overflowing eyelids

وَيَودُّ لَو عَادَ الزَّمانُ بِقُربِهِم

يَوماً ولا يَبلُوهُ يومُ فِراقِ

He wishes time would return with their nearness

One day without reaching the day of their separation