1. كتابِي ولولاَ أنّ يأسَي قد نَهى اش

    تِياقي لذَابَ الطِّرسُ من حَرِّ أنْفَاسِي

    My letter—and had my despair not restrained

    my longing, the page would have melted from the heat of my breaths.

  2. وبعدُ فعندِي وحشةٌ لو تَقسّمتْ

    على الخلقِ لم يستأنِس النّاسُ بالنّاسِ

    And now, I have a loneliness that, were it divided

    among all creation, people would find no comfort in one another.