أَظَلومُ حانَ إِلى القُبورِ ذَهابي

وَبَليتُ قَبلَ المَوتِ في أَثوابي

My going to the graves has become inevitable

And I have worn out before death in my clothes

فَعَلَيكِ يا سَكَني السَلامُ فَإِنَّني

عَمّا قَليلٍ فاعلَمِنَّ حِسابي

So peace be upon you, my home, for I

Will know my account before long

جَرَّعتِني غُصَصَ المَنِيَّةِ بِالهَوى

أَفَما بِعَيشِكِ تَرحَمينَ شَبابي

You made me drink the cups of death passionately

Will you not then have mercy on my youth?

سُبحانَ مَن لَو شاءَ سَوّى بَينَنا

وَأَدالَ مِنكِ لَقَد أَطَلتِ عَذابي

Glory to Him who, had He willed, would have reconciled us

And removed from you - you have indeed prolonged my torment