أَنتَyou فيin حِلٍّfreedom from blame فَزِدنيso give me more سَقَماsickness
أَنتَ في حِلٍّ فَزِدني سَقَما
أَفنِexhaust صَبريmy patience وَاِجعَلِand make الدَمعَthe tears دَماblood
أَفنِ صَبري وَاِجعَلِ الدَمعَ دَما
You are free of blame, so increase my sickness.
Exhaust my patience, and turn my tears to blood.
وَاِرضَand consent ليfor me المَوتَdeath بِهَجرَيكَthrough your twofold desertion فَإِنso if
وَاِرضَ لي المَوتَ بِهَجرَيكَ فَإِن
لَمnot أَمُتI die شَوقاًfrom longing فَزِدنيso give me more أَلَماpain
لَم أَمُت شَوقاً فَزِدني أَلَما
And consent to my death through your twofold desertion; so if
I do not die of longing, then increase my pain.
مِحنَةُthe ordeal العاشِقِof the lover فيin ذُلِّthe abasement الهَوىof love
مِحنَةُ العاشِقِ في ذُلِّ الهَوى
وَإِذاand when اِستُودِعَhe is entrusted سِرّاًa secret كَتَماhe conceals it
وَإِذا اِستُودِعَ سِرّاً كَتَما
The lover’s ordeal lies in love’s abasement.
And when entrusted with a secret, he conceals it.
لَيسَis not مِنّاone of us مَنwhoever شَكاcomplains عِلَّتَهُhis ailment
لَيسَ مِنّا مَن شَكا عِلَّتَهُ
مَنwhoever شَكاcomplains ظُلمَinjustice حَبيبٍof a beloved ظَلَماdoes wrong
مَن شَكا ظُلمَ حَبيبٍ ظَلَما
Whoever complains of his ailment is not one of us.
Whoever complains of a beloved’s injustice does wrong.