مرِضتَ فأمر ضَت شكواكَ قلبي

مرِضتَ فأمر ضَت شكواكَ قلبي

وكنت أنامُ فاستعصي منَامِي

وكنت أنامُ فاستعصي منَامِي

You fell ill, and your ailment sickened my heart.

You fell ill, so your complaints controlled my heart,

And I used to sleep, but my sleep eluded me.

And I would sleep, but my sleep refused.

ولو كان المريضُ يَزيدُ حُسناً

ولو كان المريضُ يَزيدُ حُسناً

كما تزدادُ أنت على السَّقامِ

كما تزدادُ أنت على السَّقامِ

And were a sick person to grow in beauty

If the sick man gained more beauty,

As you do despite illness,

As you gain more with illness,

لما عِيدَ المريضُ أذن وعُدتْ

لما عِيدَ المريضُ أذن وعُدتْ

له الشكوى من النِعَمِ العِظامِ

له الشكوى من النِعَمِ العِظامِ

Then the sick would not be visited, and counted

The sick man would never be cured, so he could complain

Among his great blessings would be his ailment.

Of the greatest blessings.