يا بَني حَمّالَةِ الحَطَبِ

حَربِيَ مِن ظَبيِكُمُ حَرَبي

O sons of the wood gatherers

O sons of the Carrier of Firewood,

My war with your gazelle is my war

My war stems from your gazelle—my ruin,

حَرَباً في القَلبِ بَرَّحَ بي

أَلهَبَتهُ مُقلَةُ اللَهَبِ

A war in the heart that saddened me

A ravage in the heart that has tormented me,

Her glances ignited by the flames

Kindled by a gaze of flame.

قَد رَمَت أَلحاظُهُ كَبِدي

بِسِهامٍ لِلرَدى صُيُبِ

Her glances struck my liver

His glances have struck my vitals

With arrows of wantonness

With arrows of death, striking true.

لَم يَجرِ في البَيتِ مِنهُ وَقَد

عُذتُ بِالأَركانِ وَالحُجُبِ

No shame drew near in this house

No sanctuary saved me from him in the Holy House,

I sought refuge in the corners and curtains

Though I sought refuge by the Corners and the Veils.

صيغَ هَذا الناسُ مِن حَمَأٍ

وَبَراهُ اللَهُ مِن ذَهَبِ

Mankind is created from putrid clay

Mankind was fashioned from dark mud,

Yet God honoured him with gold

While God created him from gold.

كَيفَ مَن لَم يَثنِهِ حَرَجٌ

دونَ قَتلي عَفَّ عَن سَلبي

How can one whom no disgrace deters

How could one, whom no guilt held back

Refrain from killing and robbing me

From slaying me, refrain from despoiling me?