سَفَّهني عاذلي عَلَيْهِ

سَفَّهني عاذلي عَلَيْهِ

وقَالَ لي وُدُّه عَلِيْلُ

وقَالَ لي وُدُّه عَلِيْلُ

My reproacher called me foolish over him,

My reproacher reproached me

And told me, “His love is ailing.”

And said his love for me was little

فَقُلْتُ مُعتلٌ اَو صَحِيْحٌ

فَقُلْتُ مُعتلٌ اَو صَحِيْحٌ

يُودِعُه عَيْنَهُ الخليلُ

يُودِعُه عَيْنَهُ الخليلُ

So I said, “Whether ailing or sound,

So I said, sick or healthy,

Al-Khalil lodges it in his ‘Ayn—his eye.”

His eyes bid farewell to his beloved