وَفِى الجِيرةِ الغادِينَ مِن بَطنِ وَجرَةٍ

غُزالٌ أَحَمُّ المُقَلَتضينِ رَبيبُ

In the ruins near the hillock

A gazelle with beautiful eyes wanders

فَلاَ تَحسَبِى أَنَّ الغَرِيبَ الذِى نَأى

وَلكِنَّ مَن تَنأَينَ عَنهُ غَرِيبُ

So think not that I am the stranger who has strayed

But he from whom I have strayed is the stranger