كَراسيكِ ضَربٌ وَالبِساطُ تُرابُ

وَبَيتَكَ يُبسٌ وَالنِدامُ عِقابُ

Your couches are beaten and the carpet is dust

And your home is withered and regret is torment

فَلا تَطمَعَن مِن عَذبِ قُربى بِشَربَةٍ

فَقُربُكَ لِلظامي إِلَيهِ سَرابُ

So do not covet sweet proximity in drinking

For your proximity to the thirsty is a mirage

فَما طَلَعَت مُذ كُنتَ شَمسُ زِيارَتي

عَلى وَطَنٍ لِلبُخلِ فيهِ ضَبابُ

No sun has risen since you were the sun of my visit

Upon a homeland where miserliness is mist