هاجَ الفُؤادَ ظَعائِنٌ

بِالجَزعِ مِن أَعلى الحَجونِ

The heart was stirred by yearning

With intense grief from on high

يُحدى بِهِنَّ وَفي الظَعا

ئنِ رَبرَبٌ حورُ العُيونِ

It is challenged by yearnings, and in yearnings murmurs the maid of languid eyes

In them is the fascination of smooth cheeks and clear brow

فيهِنَّ طاوِيَةُ الحَشا

جَيداءُ واضِحَةُ الجَبينِ

White, bright whiteness

Like the lustrous pearl shell

بَيضاءُ ناصِعَةُ البَياضِ

كَدُرَّةِ الصَدَفِ الكَنينِ

Of high rank and house of glory, in lineage and faith

Indeed, to kill is to be killed

في المَنصِبِ العالي وَبَي

تِ المَجدِ في حَسَبٍ وَدينِ

By love, for the captive heart

Love of the slain has settled her

إِنَّ القَتولَ تَقَتَّلَت

بِالدَلِّ لِلقَلبِ الرَهينِ

In the heart, in the place of one who abides

So if the doves' leaves once

حُبُّ القَتولِ أَحَلَّها

في القَلبِ مَنزِلَةَ المَكينِ

Rustled on the branches

It reminded me of what I’d forgotten

فَإِذا تَجاوَبَ مَرَّةً

وُرقُ الحَمامِ عَلى الغُصونِ

Of youthfulness after a while

Indeed, the sorrowful is roused

ذَكَّرنَني ما قَد نَسي

تُ مِنَ الصَبابَةِ بَعدَ حينِ

After numbness, by the weeping of the sorrowful

The length of time hasn't made me forget

إِنَّ الحَزينَ يَهيجُهُ

بَعدَ الذُهولِ بُكا الحَزينِ

And what years may pass

Love of the slain, and she remains still

لَم يُنسِني طولُ الزَما

نِ وَما يَمُرُّ مِنَ السِنينِ

A passion for us, after death

حُبَّ القَتولِ وَلا تَزالُ

هَوىً لَنا أُخرى المَنونِ