يا لَيتَ شِعري وَلَيتَ الطَيرَ يُخبِرُني

يا لَيتَ شِعري وَلَيتَ الطَيرَ يُخبِرُني

هَل أَدخُلُ القُبَّةَ الخَضراءِ مِن أُدُمِ

هَل أَدخُلُ القُبَّةَ الخَضراءِ مِن أُدُمِ

If only I knew, and if only the birds would tell me

Oh, would that my poetry could take wing and tell me

whether I shall enter the green tent made of hides.

If I might enter the verdant dome made from red leather

أَسلَمَني أُسرَتي طُرّاً وَحاشِيَتي

أَسلَمَني أُسرَتي طُرّاً وَحاشِيَتي

حَتّى كَأَنّي مِن عادٍ وَمِن إِرَمِ

حَتّى كَأَنّي مِن عادٍ وَمِن إِرَمِ

My family and my retinue have all abandoned me,

My family have left me bare, even my courtiers,

until it is as though I belonged to ʿĀd and Iram.

As if I were from 'Aad or from Iram of the columns