أَراني في الثَلاثَةِ مِن سُجوني

فَلا تَسأَل عَنِ الخَبَرِ النَبيثِ

I see myself in the third of my prisons

So ask not for the woeful news

لِفَقدِيَ ناظِري وَلُزومِ بَيتي

وَكَونِ النَفسِ في الجَسَدِ الخَبيثِ

Of losing my companion and staying home

With a wretched soul in a wretched body