وَيْحَalas for الطَّبيبِthe physician الذيwhose جَسَّتْfelt يَداهُhis two hands يَدَكْyour hand
وَيْحَ الطَّبيبِ الذي جَسَّتْ يَداهُ يَدَكْ
ماhow كانَwas أَغْفَلَهُheedless he was عَمَّاof what بِهِwith it اعْتَمَدَكْhe approached you
ما كانَ أَغْفَلَهُ عَمَّا بِهِ اعْتَمَدَكْ
Alas for the physician whose two hands felt your hand!
Woe to the doctor whose hand touched your hand,
How heedless he was of what he approached you with!
He did not neglect what made you rely on him.
لَوْif أَنَّthat أَلْحاظَهُhis glances كانَتْwere مَباضِعَهُhis lancets
لَوْ أَنَّ أَلْحاظَهُ كانَتْ مَباضِعَهُ
ثُمَّthen انْتَحاكَhe aimed at you بهاwith them مِنْbecause of رِقَّةٍdelicacy فَصَدَكْhe drew your blood
ثُمَّ انْتَحاكَ بها مِنْ رِقَّةٍ فَصَدَكْ
Had his glances been his lancets,
If only his glances were his pillows,
Then aimed at you, they would have drawn your blood, so delicate are you.
Then he caressed you gently and turned you away.