1. يا صاحِبَ الجَدَثِ الَّذي نَفَثَت بِهِ

    فَاِستَرجَعَتهُ بِرُغمِنا الأَزمانُ

    O dweller of the grave, breathed forth

    And then reclaimed against our will by the ages.

  2. نَبكيكَ لَو يُثنى بِأَدمُعِنا الرَدى

    أَو يَرعَوي لِبُكائِنا الحِدثانُ

    We would weep for you, if our tears could turn death aside,

    Or if time’s calamities would relent at our weeping.

  3. أُنزِلتَ أَقرَبَ مَنزِلٍ مِنّا فَلِم

    بَعُدَ المَدى وَتَعَذَّرَ اللُقيانُ

    You were laid in the nearest dwelling to us—so why

    Has the distance grown so great, and meeting become impossible?

  4. لَولا هَجيرُ الدَمعِ بَلهَجُرُ الكَرى

    دَفَنَتكَ في أَحشائِها الأَجفانُ

    Were it not for tears’ scorching heat—nay, for the loss of sleep—

    The eyelids would have buried you in their innermost depths.