وقالتْ رجعتَ بخُفيْ حُنيْن

خَلِّي الحقيبة صِفْرَ اليدين

She said, "You have returned with stealthy affection

Empty your hands of all you grasp

وكنتَ تُعَلِّلُنا بالمُنى

فأين النُّضارُ وأينَ اللُّجَيْن؟

You used to give us excuses full of longing

So where is the radiance and where are the hands intertwined?

وكنتَ تحدِّثنا عنْ غدٍ

يطيرُ بذكْرِكَ في الخافقَيْنْ

You used to tell us of a tomorrow

That would fly with your memory through the pulse of life

فقلتُ ألمْ تدْركي أنَّنا

بِعَصْرٍ جناحاهُ زيْفٌ ومَيْنْ؟

So I said, "Don't you realize that we

Live in an age whose wings are vanity and bend?"