قَد حُمَّ مَن أَنا أَحميهِ فَأَفقَدَهُ

وَرداً بِوَجنَتِهِ وِردٌ لِحُمّاهُ

He who I protect has lost me and reddened my cheeks

Fever has seized the one I guard, turning the roses of his cheeks into a watering hole for its heat.

A blush for my beloved is a balm for my fever

Would that his fever were mine, redoubled—bearing a month of pain for his single day—so God might heal him,

يا لَيتَ حُمّاهُ لي كانَت مُضاعَفَةً

يَوماً بِشَهرٍ وَأَنَّ اللَهَ عافاهُ

Oh how I wish my fever for him were doubled

That the sickness might be transferred to my own body, and God grant him recovery as the end result.

A day for a month so that God may grant him health

I asked the ailment, "Why are you so attached to him?" It replied, "I desire him just as you do."

فَيُصبِحَ السُقمُ مَنقولاً إِلى جَسَدي

وَيَجعَلُ اللَهُ مِنهُ البُرءَ عُقباهُ

Then my sickness would transfer into my body

I swore to the sickness I remember him no more—yet how can one recall whom he never forgets?

And God would make his recovery inevitable

أَقولُ لِلسُقمِ كَم ذا قَد لَهِجتُ بِهِ

فَقالَ لي مِثلَما تَهواهُ أَهواهُ

I say to this sickness, how I have raved of you

It said to me, “I desire what you desire”

حَلَفتُ لِلسُقمِ أَنّي لَستُ أَذكُرُهُ

وَكَيفَ يَذكُرُهُ مَن لَيسَ يَنساهُ

I swore to the sickness I would not remember it

But how can one forget what one cannot forget?