بكيتI wept علىover شعريmy poetry الذيwhich ضاعwas lost قدرهits worth
بكيت على شعري الذي ضاع قدره
بدمعwith tears علىon الخدينboth cheeks يجريflows كنهرينِlike two rivers
بدمع على الخدين يجري كنهرينِ
I wept over my poetry, whose worth was lost,
I wept for my lost fate, my fortune gone
With tears flowing down both cheeks like two rivers.
With tears down my cheeks flowing like rivers
فلمbut did not يجدنيavail me نفعاًany good وضاعتand were wasted مدامعيmy tears
فلم يجدني نفعاً وضاعت مدامعي
فواand alas طولthe length of حزنيmy sorrow منfrom ضياعthe loss of نفيسينِtwo precious things
فوا طول حزني من ضياع نفيسينِ
But it did me no good, and my tears were wasted—
But my weeping helped naught, and was in vain
And alas, how long my sorrow at the loss of two precious things!
Oh, my deep sorrow for losing two treasures