يا مَنْ تَمَلَّكَني بِمَا

أَوْلاَهُ من نِعَمٍ وأسْدَى

O You who owns me with what

You have bestowed on me of blessings and support

أشْكُو إليكَ مُهَنَّداً

هَجَرَ الغُمُودَ وظَلَّ فَردَا

I complain to You, exhausted,

Having abandoned clouds and remained solitary

قَدْ كَادَ ممَّا لا يَقِرُّ

يَخِدُّ في فَخذَيَّ خَدّا

Almost from what gives me no rest

My cheek would split on my thigh

فَقِني ذَلاَقَةَ حَدِّهِ

وأَتِحْ لَهُ بندَاكَ غِمْدَا

So save me from the sharpness of its edge

And open for it Your scabbard, a sheath