أَفنَيتُ فيكِ مَعانِيَ الشَكوى

وَصِفاتِ ما أَلقى مِنَ البَلوى

I have exhausted in you the meanings of complaining,

In you, I have exhausted every meaning of complaint,

And descriptions of what misfortune I have endured.

And all descriptions of the affliction I endure.

جَوَّلتُ آفاقَ الكَلامِ فَما

أَبصَرتُني قَصَّرتُ عَن مَعنى

I have wandered the horizons of speech, but have not

I roamed the horizons of speech, yet never

Found myself falling short of meaning.

Did I find myself falling short of any meaning.

وَأَعُدُّ ما لا أَشتَكي غَبَناً

فَأَعودُ فيهِ مَرَّةً أُخرى

And I count what I do not complain of as a loss,

Whatever I leave unlamented, I count as a loss,

So I return to it again.

And so I return to recite it once again.

فَلَوَ أَنَّ ما أَشكو إِلى بَشَرٍ

لَأَراحَني مِن ذِلَّةِ الشَكوى

If what I complained of were to a human,

For were my plea directed at a human heart,

It would give me relief from the humiliation of complaining.

He would have spared me the humiliation of complaining.

لَكِنَّما أَشكو إِلى حَجَرٍ

تَنبو المَعاوِلُ عَنهُ أَو أَقسى

But I complain to a stone,

But alas, I pour my grievance unto a stone,

The picks recoil from it, or harder.

From which pickaxes recoil—or something harder still.

ظَبيٌ بِمَبكاهُ وَمَضحَكِهِ

فينا تُنيرُ وَتُظلِمُ الدُنيا

A gazelle with its crying and laughter,

A gazelle who, with his weeping and his laughter,

In us you enlighten and darken the world.

Causes the world within us to shine or turn to dark.