1. أُسيغُ الغَيظَ مِن نُوَبِ اللَيالي

    وَما يَشعُرنَ بِالحَنَقِ المَغيظِ

    I swallow anger at the calamities of the nights,

    Yet they are unaware of my embittered rage.

  2. أُرَجِّيَ الرِزقَ مِن خُرتٍ دَقيقٍ

    يُسَدُّ بِسِلكِ حِرمانٍ غَليظِ

    I hope for sustenance from a tiny opening,

    Blocked by a thick thread of deprivation.

  3. وَأَرجِعُ لَيسَ في كَفَّيَّ مِنهُ

    سِوى عَضِّ اليَدَينِ عَلى الحُظوظِ

    And I return, with nothing of it in my palms

    Save biting both hands over my lot.