إِلى اللَهِ أَشكو الشَوقَ لا إِن لَقيتُهَ

إِلى اللَهِ أَشكو الشَوقَ لا إِن لَقيتُهَ

يَقِلُّ وَلا إِن بِنتُ يُخلِقُهُ الدَهرُ

يَقِلُّ وَلا إِن بِنتُ يُخلِقُهُ الدَهرُ

To God I complain of longing: not even if I meet him

I complain to God of longing, yet meeting does not decrease it

does it lessen, nor, if I am parted, does time wear it away.

Nor does the passage of time breed it.

مُقيمٌ عَلى الأَحشاءِ قَد قُطِّعَت بِهِ

مُقيمٌ عَلى الأَحشاءِ قَد قُطِّعَت بِهِ

فَساعَتُهُ يَومٌ وَلَيلَتُهُ شَهرُ

فَساعَتُهُ يَومٌ وَلَيلَتُهُ شَهرُ

It dwells in my entrails, already torn apart by it;

It dwells in my very flesh, which is broken by its pangs.

so its hour is a day, and its night a month.

Its hours are a day, its moments a month.