أَلا يا غُرابَ البَينِ فيمَ تَصيحُ

أَلا يا غُرابَ البَينِ فيمَ تَصيحُ

فَصَوتُكَ مَشنِيٌّ إِلَيَّ قَبيحُ

فَصَوتُكَ مَشنِيٌّ إِلَيَّ قَبيحُ

Ah, crow of parting, why do you cry?

Alas! O crow of separation, why do you cry?

For your voice is hateful to me, ugly.

Your voice is ugly and hateful to me.

وَكُلُّ غَداةٍ لا أَبا لَكِ تَنتَحي

وَكُلُّ غَداةٍ لا أَبا لَكِ تَنتَحي

إِلَيَّ فَتَلقاني وَأَنتَ مُشيحُ

إِلَيَّ فَتَلقاني وَأَنتَ مُشيحُ

And every morning—may you have no father—you make your way

Each morning you swoop down relentlessly,

toward me, and meet me, resolute.

Coming to me while you are complaining.

تُحَدِّثُني أَن لَستُ لاقي نِعمَةٍ

تُحَدِّثُني أَن لَستُ لاقي نِعمَةٍ

بَعِدتَ وَلا أَمسى لَدَيكَ نَصيحُ

بَعِدتَ وَلا أَمسى لَدَيكَ نَصيحُ

You tell me that I shall find no blessing.

You tell me that I will never again find joy,

Away with you, and may no well-wisher spend the evening with you!

You have gone far from me, with no sound advice.

فَإِن لَم تَهِجني ذاتَ يَومٍ فَإِنَّهُ

فَإِن لَم تَهِجني ذاتَ يَومٍ فَإِنَّهُ

سَيَكفيكَ وَرقاءُ السَراةِ صَدوحُ

سَيَكفيكَ وَرقاءُ السَراةِ صَدوحُ

For if one day you do not stir my sorrow, then

But if you do not rouse me on any day,

a loud-voiced, gray-backed dove will suffice in your stead.

then the bleating of camels at dawn will suffice.