تَمَصبَطرَمتُ في عَتبي عَلَيهِ

تَمَصبَطرَمتُ في عَتبي عَلَيهِ

كَأَنّي لَيسَ قَلبي في يَدَيهِ

كَأَنّي لَيسَ قَلبي في يَدَيهِ

I grew overbearing in my reproach of him,

I pretended to be angry with him

As though my heart were not in his hands.

As if my heart was not in his hands

وَكانَ الحَزمُ لَو رَكِبَ اِعتِذاري

وَكانَ الحَزمُ لَو رَكِبَ اِعتِذاري

مَطِيَّتَهُ فَأَبرَكَها لَدَيهِ

مَطِيَّتَهُ فَأَبرَكَها لَدَيهِ

And prudence would have been for my apology to ride

Had composure mounted my apology

Its mount, then make it kneel before him.

It would have stumbled at his feet

فَما لي مُنصِفٌ مِنهُ سِواهُ

فَما لي مُنصِفٌ مِنهُ سِواهُ

إِذا ما جِئتَ أَشكوهُ إِلَيهِ

إِذا ما جِئتَ أَشكوهُ إِلَيهِ

For I have none but himself to grant me justice against him.

So I have no one to judge fairly but him

When you come, I complain of him to him.

If I complain to him about him