لو أنّ كُلَّ لِسَانٍ لِي يُعَبِّرُ مَا

عِندِي لَكُمْ من صَبَابَاتٍ وأَشْواقِ

If every tongue I had could make known

All of the yearnings inside me that have grown,

كَلَّتْ وألْفيْتُ مَاضِي ما تَفُوهُ بِهِ

أدنَى وأيْسر مقْدَاراً من البَاقِي

They would tire and lose track trying to speak

Of the smallest portion that remains in my keep