أَسعِداني بِالدَمعِ يا عَينَيّا

أَسعِداني عَلَيهِ ما دُمتُ حَيّا

My eyes have brought me joy with tears,

As long as I live, may they make me happy with them.

أَنَ أَولى بِما بَكَيتُ عَلى نَف

سي مِنَ الباكِياتِ يَوماً عَلَيّا

I who wept for my soul, am more deserving

Than those who will one day weep for me.

نَفَسٌ لي قَدِ اِنقَضى ثُمَّ طَرفي

وَهُما يَنعَيانِ نَفسي إِلَيّا

A soul I had is now gone, while my eyes

Mourn my soul, appealing to me.

يُشِكُ الطَرفُ وَالتَنَفُسُّ أَلّا

يَترُكا لي مِنَ التَحَرُّكِ شَيّا

My breathing and my tears almost

Leave me no strength remaining to move.

وَمِنَ الحَزمِ أَن أَكونَ لِنَفسي

قَبلَ مَوتي فيما مَلَكتُ وَصِيّا

And prudent it is, before my death,

To be executor of what I own.

عَجَباً ما عَجِبتُ مِن شُحِّ نَفسي

صَيَّرَتني مِلكاً لِمِلكِ يَدَيّا

How strange that my own soul's stinginess

Has made me slave to what my hands possess.