للهِ من جَفْنٍ هَمَلْنَ دُموعُهُ

وجَريحِ قلبٍ لا يَقَرُّ وُلُوعُهُ

For God's sake, he whose tears have dried from weary eyelids,

And a wounded heart that knows no rest or peace,

وكَئيبِ فكرٍ ذاهِلٍ عَبَثَ النَّوى

بشؤونِهِ وطَفَتْ عليه جُموعُهُ

And a melancholy mind, lost in vain thoughts,

As multitudes milled about his affairs,

وعَليلِ جسمٍ قد أُذيبَ تلَهُّفاً

لحِمًى تَريضُ العارِفينَ رُبُوعُهُ

And a frail body, wasted by yearning,

Whose condition enlightened men pity,

يا من سَهِرْتُ لكُمْ بغَلْغَلَةِ الدُّجا

حتَّى من الفجرِ اسْتَفاضَ طُلُوعُهُ

O you whom I kept vigil for in the darkness of night

Until the dawn rose in its glory,

وبكيْتُ أَشْجاناً لطلعَةِ بدركُمْ

يومي وحُنْدُسُهُ نُشِرْنَ فرُوعُهُ

And I wept ardently for the rising of your moon,

As it emerged, its branches spread,

وذَهِلْتُ لا نُطقي تُدارُ حُروفُهُ

بفَمي ولا صوتي يَجولُ شُرُوعُهُ

And I was struck dumb, my words jumbled in my mouth,

My voice muted, lacking eloquence,

شيءٌ ولكنْ لم يُرَ منظورُهُ

حُزناً ولم يُسْمَعْ جَوًى مَسْمُوعُهُ

A thing, yet nothing seen of it,

Grief, yet no murmur heard,

قد دَقَّ عن نسجِ الخَيالِ وفوقَ ما

في النَّارِ حرًّا ما تُكِنُّ ضُلُوعُهُ

It transcends the creations of imagination, and above

What fire contains, though bones be ashes,

عَجَباً هل الأيَّامُ ترحَمُ حَنَّهُ

وهِلالُكُمْ يُجلى إليه سُطُوعُهُ

Amazingly, do days show mercy for his grief?

Does your crescent shine its light on him?

ويَلوحُ في سُجُفِ الجَلالِ مُقَنَّعاً

وعليه من بُرْدِ الجَمالِ دُرُوعُهُ

Does it gleam, veiled in majestic gloom,

Clad in the mail of beauty?

ليعودَ ميِّتُكُمْ بلمعَةِ أُنسِهِ

حَيًّا ويُحْيي العاشِقينَ رُجُوعُهُ

Will your deceased return to life by the grace of intimacy,

And by his return bring lovers back to life?