لِعَبدَةَ دارٌ ما تُكَلِّمُنا الدارُ

تَلوحُ مَغانيها كَما لاحَ أَسطارُ

The house of 'Abdat has no voice to speak to us

Its melodies shine like lines of prose

أُسائِلُ أَحجاراً وَنُؤياً مُهَدَّماً

وَكيفَ يُجيبُ القَولَ نُؤيٌ وَأَحجارُ

I question the stones and a ruined dream

How can a dream and stones articulate a response?

فَما كَلَّمتَني دارُها إِذ سَأَلتُها

وَفي كَبِدي كَالنِفطِ شُبَّت لَهُ النارُ

Her house did not speak when I asked

And in my liver, like oil, a fire was kindled for it

وَعِندَ مَغاني دارِها لَو تَكَلَّمَت

لِمُكتَئِبٍ بادي الصَبابَةِ أَخبارُ

If the melodies of her house had spoken

There would be news for a melancholic, naive wanderer

تَحَمَّلَ جيراني فَعَيني لِبَينِهِم

تَفيضُ بِتَهتانٍ إِذا لاحَتِ الدارُ

My neighbors endured me, while my eyes

Overflowed with madness when the house appeared

بَكَيتُ عَلى مَن كُنتُ أَحظى بِقُربِهِ

وَحَقَّ الَّذي حاذَرتُ بِالأَمسِ إِذ ساروا

I wept for the one whose company I enjoyed

For the right I had feared yesterday when they walked away