1. أنا أرضى بالذي قَلَّ ودَلْ:

    خيمةٌ في وطني دونَ وَجَلْ

    I am content with what is little but meaningful:

    a tent in my homeland, without fear;

  2. خيمةٌ أغسلُ باللثم بها

    يدَ أمي كلما الصبحُ أطَلْ

    a tent where, with kisses, I wash

    my mother's hand whenever morning appears;

  3. ورغيفٌ دافيءٌ تخبزُهُ

    «أمُ شيماءَ».وكوزٌ من وشَلْ

    and a warm loaf baked by

    Umm Shayma, and a jug of trickling water.

  4. مُنْذُ جيلينِ ومازلتُ على

    سَفَرٍ بين قنوطٍ وأمَلْ

    For two generations I have remained on

    a journey between despair and hope.

  5. لا الضحى ضاحَكَ أحداقي ولا

    طمْأنَ الليلُ فؤاداً وَمُقَلْ

    Neither has the forenoon smiled upon my eyes, nor

    has night soothed my heart and eyes.

  6. أمسَكَ الصبحُ عن القلبِ فما

    زارني إلا وفي العينِ طَفَلْ

    Morning has withheld itself from my heart; it has never

    visited me without twilight in my eyes.

  7. كَذِبَ التاريخُ.. مازال على

    وطني للشِرْكِ «لاةٌ» و«هُبَلْ»

    History has lied: there still stand upon

    my homeland the idols Lat and Hubal.

  8. تعِبَتْ من تَعَبي أشرعةٌ

    كلّما أنشُرها الساحلُ زَلْ

    Sails have grown weary from my weariness;

    whenever I unfurl them, the shore slips away.

  9. وَنَأتْ عن سُفني الريحُ سوى

    زَفَراتٍ بَرْدُها لَفْحُ شُعَلْ

    And the wind has drawn away from my ships, save for

    sighs whose coolness is the scorching breath of flames.

  10. ياهلالَ العيدِ هلْ مِنْ خَبَرٍ

    عن فراتينِ وسهلٍ وَجَبَلْ؟

    O crescent of Eid, is there any news

    of the two Euphrates, a plain, and a mountain?

  11. مرَّ «عيدانِ وعشرونَ» وما

    عادَني جارٌ.. ولا الهَمُّ ارْتحَلْ

    Twenty-two Eids have passed, and no

    neighbor has visited me, nor has sorrow departed.

  12. وَأحَلَّتْ كبريائي غُرْبَةٌ

    نَبَشَتْ روحي بأشواكِ المَلَلْ

    And exile has violated my pride,

    digging up my soul with the thorns of tedium.

  13. وَسَّعَتْ صَحْني ولكنْ ضَيَّقَتْ

    بينَ حُصْني وسرايا من عِلَلْ

    It widened my bowl, but narrowed

    the gap between my fortress and battalions of ailments.

  14. سيدي ياناسِكَ النخلِ ويا

    خاشعَ الطين وعذريَّ القُبَلْ

    My lord, O ascetic of the date palms, O

    reverent one of clay, and chaste in your kisses,

  15. أنا أدري أنَّ بيْ من شَغَفٍ

    لبساتينكَ بعضاً من خَبَلْ

    I know that in my passion

    for your orchards there is a touch of madness.

  16. نَكَثَ العشقُ بقلبي فكبا

    ربَّ مجنونٍ ب«ليلاهْ» عَقلْ

    Love broke faith with my heart, so it stumbled;

    many a madman has grown sane through his Layla.

  17. قَنَعَتْ بالصاب كأسي وَجَفَتْ

    بعد نهريكَ رحيقاً وَعَسَلْ

    My cup made do with bitter sap, and ran dry

    of nectar and honey after your two rivers.

  18. وَتطَبَّعْتُ على الحزنِ فما

    طابَ لي بعد لياليكَ جَذَلْ

    And I have grown accustomed to sorrow, so no

    joy has pleased me since your nights.

  19. فَلِمَنْ أفتح أحداقي إذا

    لم تكن كُحْلَ جفوني والمُقَلْ؟

    So for whom shall I open my eyes, if

    you are not the kohl of my eyelids and eyes?

  20. إنني ياسيدي الطفلُ الذي

    خَبَرَ العشقَ غريراً فاكْتَهَلْ

    I am, my lord, the child who

    knew love in innocence, then reached middle age.

  21. لم يزلْ ينبض شوقاً لغدٍ

    قلبيَ الطفلُ.. و«ليلى» لم تَزَلْ

    Still beating with longing for tomorrow

    is my child-heart—and Layla still remains.

  22. سيدي.. مولايَ.. فامْنَحْني ولو

    زَبَداً منكَ وصحناً من غَلَلْ

    My lord, my master, grant me, if only,

    foam from you, and a bowl of running water,

  23. ومن الأرضِ ذراعاً واحداً

    أنا أرضى بالذي قَلَّ وَدَلْ!

    and a single cubit of earth.

    I am content with what is little but meaningful!