أَلَسْتَare you not تَرىyou see الضَّنَىwasting illness لَمْdid not يُبْقِleave remaining مِنِّيof me
أَلَسْتَ تَرى الضَّنَى لَمْ يُبْقِ مِنِّي
سِوىexcept شَبَحٍa phantom يَطيرُflies بِكُلِّwith every رِيحِwind
سِوى شَبَحٍ يَطيرُ بِكُلِّ رِيحِ
Do you not see that wasting illness has left of me
Do you not see, grief has left of me
Only a phantom that flies with every wind?
Naught but a specter blown by every wind