أَرى جَسَدي يَبلي وَسَقَمي باطِنُ

أَرى جَسَدي يَبلي وَسَقَمي باطِنُ

وَفي كَبِدي داءٌ وَقَلبي سالِمُ

وَفي كَبِدي داءٌ وَقَلبي سالِمُ

I see my body wasting away, while my sickness lies hidden.

I see my body decay and my illness within

And in my liver is an ailment, while my heart is sound.

And in my liver there is sickness, yet my heart is sound

فَما السَقَمُ إِلّا دونَ سَقَمٍ أَصابَني

فَما السَقَمُ إِلّا دونَ سَقَمٍ أَصابَني

وَلا الجُهدُ إِلّا وَالَّذي في أَعظَمُ

وَلا الجُهدُ إِلّا وَالَّذي في أَعظَمُ

For sickness is but less severe than a sickness that has afflicted me.

So this illness is nothing compared to one that has stricken me

And whatever the suffering, that within me is greater.

Nor this fatigue, except for that within my bones