عِشنا بِأَنعَمِ عَيشٍ
إِلفَينِ كالغُصنَينِ
We lived the most blissful life,
Two lovers, like two boughs.
فَلَم يَزَل عُجبُ عَيني
بِأُلفَةِ الإِلفَينِ
And my eye never ceased to marvel
At the intimacy of the two lovers,
حَتّى رَماني بِسَهمِ ال
مَنونِ عَن قَوسَينِ
Until it struck me with the arrow of
Death, from two bows.
أَلَيسَ مِن شُؤمِ بَختي
أَصَبتُ نَفسي بِعَيني
Is it not my ill fortune
That I afflicted myself with my own evil eye?
Sol 6.1