مَضَت بِفُؤادي بَينَ أَحشائِهِ النَّوى

فَهُنَّ خَلاءٌ بَعدَهُ كَالمَعالِمِ

My heart is torn, for the beloved has gone,

Leaving my soul in ruins, lost and forlorn.

كَأَنَّ النَّوى لَيثٌ أُصِيبَ بِأَشبُلٍ

رَأَى ثَاره بَينَ الحشا وَالحَيازِمِ

As if a lion was struck down in its prime,

Its blood spilled over the stones of our time.