أَشْكُو إِلَى اللَّهِ مِنْ بَثْي وَمِنْ شَجَنِي

لَم أَجْنِ مِنْ مِنْحَتِي شَيْئاً سِوَى مِحَنِ

I complain to God of my anguish and my sorrow

I have gained nothing from my love except for tribulation

أَصَابَتِ الْحَسَنَ الْعَينُ الَّتِي رَشَقَتْ

وَعَادَةُ الْعَيْنِ لاَ تُصْمِي سِوَى الْحَسَنِ

The beautiful eyes that shot me with arrows have hit their mark

And the eyes' habit is to target nothing but beauty