يا سَقَمَ الجَفنِ مِن حَبيبي

أَلبَسَني حُلَّةَ السَقامِ

O sickness of my weary eyes for my beloved

Who clothed me in the garb of ills,

كَم قَتَلَت لَحظَتاكَ ظُلماً

مِن عاشِقِ القَلبِ مُستَهامِ

How many your glances have killed unjustly

Of a heart's ardent lover,

يا مَن بِعَينَيهِ لي غَرامٌ

قَرَّبَ مِن مُهجَتي حِمامي

O you whose eyes have made me love you,

Who brought pigeons close to my breast,

قَد رَوِيَت مِن دَمي فَحَسبي

مِن صائِبِ النَبلِ وَالسِهامِ

You have quenched your thirst with my blood, so enough!

Of a skilled archer's arrows and spears