ما لِلكَواعِبِ يا عَيساءُ قَد جَعَلَت

تَزوَرُّ عَنّي وَتُطوى دونِيَ الحُجَرُ

What is wrong, O Isaa, with the maidens that

What ails the young maidens, O Aysaa, that they turn aside from me, and the chambers are shut against me?

They turn away from me and the wall blocks their view

I was once the opener of locked doors, vigilant in pursuit when glances were stolen.

قَد كُنتُ فَرّاجَ أَبوابٍ مُفلَقَةٍ

ذَبَّ الرِيادِ إِذا ما خولِسَ النَظَرُ

I used to be the doorman of open doors

But now I see two figures as four, and the single one as two—so 'blessed' has my sight become.

But now I see double when I try to look

I used to walk upright upon two legs, but now I have come to walk on a leg made of wood.

فَقَد جَعَلتُ أَرى الشَخصَينِ أَربَعَةً

وَالوَحِدَ اِثنَينِ مِمّا بورِكَ البَصَرُ

So I see two people where there is but one

And when I stand, my own robe weighs heavy upon me, so I rise staggering like a man drunk with wine.

And one seems like two, since my sight was blessed

وَكُنتُ أَمشي عَلى رِجلَينِ مُعتَدِلاً

فَصِرتُ أَمشي عَلى رِجلٍ مِنَ الشَجَرِ

I used to walk steadily on two feet

But now I walk as if on wooden legs

وَقَد جَعَلتُ إِذا ما قُمتُ يُثقِلني

ثَوبي فَأَنهَضُ الشارِبِ السَكِرِ

I used to stand up easily in my clothes

But now I rise like a drunken fool