أُقَضّيهِ في الأَشواقِ إِلّا أَقَلَّهُ

بَطيءَ سُرىً إِلى اللُبثِ مَيلَهُ

I spend it yearning, though yearning little suits me,

Slowly tending towards lingering, such is its bent.

وَلَيسَ اِشتِياقي عَن غَرامٍ بِشادِنٍ

وَلَكِنَّهُ شَوقُ اِمرِئٍ فاتَ أَهلَهُ

Yet my yearning comes not from a transport of passion,

But a yearning for one gone from home and kin.

فَيالَكَ مِن لَيلٍ أَعَرتُ نُجومَهُ

تَوَقُّدَ أَنفاسي وَعانَيتُ مِثلَهُ

O what a night whose stars I exposed!

My breath kindled and I suffered its like.

وَمَلَّ كِلانا مِن أَخيهِ وَهَكَذا

إِذا طالَ عَهدُ المَرءِ بِالشَيءِ مَلَّهُ

Both of us were wearied of each other, and thus,

When a man is long parted from a thing, it wearies him.