1. I am reproached for Najd, and I weep with yearning.

    Gently, my tears—and you, my reproacher, show mercy.

  2. For there in the protected pasture dwells one whose parting I cannot bear.

    That separation delights the talebearer, while I am left wretched.

  3. And among his neighbors I honor every passing visitor,

    though he would dearly love to be given my blood to drink.

  4. When his distance and his love have left of me

    only a last flicker of life—people of Najd, how long can I survive?

  5. Were it not for love, my side would never have yielded to Time,

    nor would Quraysh have accepted what I suffer at your hands.

Sol 5.6