رِقَّ لَهُ إِن كُنتَ مَولاهُ
وَاِرحَم فَقَد أَشمَتَّ أَعداهُ
Take pity on him, if you are his master,
and have mercy—for you have made his enemies gloat.
وَيلٌ لَهُ إِن دامَ هَذا بِهِ
مِن حُرَقٍ تُقلِقُ أَحشاهُ
Woe to him if this condition persists within him,
from searing pangs that convulse his innards.
يا غُصنَ بانٍ ناعِمٍ قَدُّهُ
فَوقَ نَقاً يَهتَزُّ أَعلاهُ
O bough of the bān tree, supple in form,
atop a sandhill, its crown swaying—
مَنَعتَ عَينَيَّ لَذيذَ الكَرى
أَحسِن كَما حَسَّنَكَ اللَهُ
you have denied my eyes the sweetness of sleep;
be kind, as God has made you beautiful.
Sol 5.6