أَعتَلُّ بِالماءِ فَأَدعو بِهِ

لَعَلَّها تَنزِلُ بِالماءِ

I feign a need for water and call for it,

Hoping that she might come down with the water,

وَيَعلَمُ اللَهُ عَلى عَرشِهِ

ما طِبِّيَ الماءُ وَلا دائي

Yet God, upon His Throne, knows well

That water is neither my medicine nor my illness,

إِلّا لِما أَلقى بِإِنسانَةٍ

مُختالَةٍ في نَعلِ حِنّاءِ

But rather the suffering I endure for a maiden

Strutting proudly in sandals of henna.

وُلِدتُ في حُبِّكِ يا مُنيَتي

بِطالِعٍ لَيسَ بِمِعطاءِ

I was born into your love, O my heart's desire,

Under a star that grants no favors;

هَذا وَريحي مِنكُمُ صَرصَرٌ

تُجِفُّ دوني كُلَّ خَضراءِ

Thus the wind that reaches me from you is a freezing gale,

Withering every green thing before my eyes.