قَلْبِي عَلَيْكَ يَرُفُّ
وَعِبْرَتِي لا تَجِفُّ
My heart flutters for you,
and my tears never run dry.
وَأَنْتَ يَا نُورَ عَيْنِي
بِلَوْعَتِي تَسْتَخِفُّ
And you, O light of my eyes,
make light of my burning anguish.
قَدْ شَفَّنِي طُولُ وَجْدِي
وَالْحُبُّ دَاءٌ يَشُفُّ
Long yearning has wasted me away,
and love is a wasting disease.
فَارْحَمْ فَدَيْتُكَ صَبَّاً
إِلَى لُقَاكَ يَخِفُّ
So have mercy—may I be your ransom—on an ardent lover
who hastens to meet you.
Sol 5.6