وَجَدتُ بها وَجدَ المُضِلِّ بَعِيرَهُ

بمَكَةَ وَالحُجّاجُ غادٍ ورَائحُ

I found in her the passion of one who's lost his camel,

In Mecca while the pilgrims are departing around him.

وَجَدتُ بها مَا لَم تَجِد أُمُّ وَاحِدٍ

بِوَاحدِها تُطوَى عليهِ الصَّفائحُ

I found in her what no devoted mother ever found

In her only son, over whom pages are folded.

وَجَدتُ بها ما لَم يَجِد ذُو حَرارَةٍ

يُرَاقِبُ جُمّاتِ الرَّكِيِّ النَّزَائحِ

I found in her what one with great ardour never found

As he watches the throngs circling the holy shrine.

أَبَيتِ بِأَلا تَرثَئى لي فكيفَ لي

بأَن تَنظُرِى بَينَ الحَشا وَالجَوانِحِ

You refused to eulogize me, so how can I bear

For you to look between the tents and the songbirds?

فَتُخبِرَكِ العَينَانِ عَن قَلبيَ الَّذِى

مَلِلتُ به لا كالقُلوبِ الصَّحائحِ

So that your eyes may tell you about my weary heart,

Bored with it, not like hearts that are blithe and joyous.