O You who see my tears pouring down like ceaseless rain,

Flowing from both my eyes, while sickness shows upon my body

Do not be amazed, even if I become like lifeless remains,

For a gazelle upon the plain, between the bān trees and the mountain

Has found it licit in forbidden months to shed my blood,

Marvel instead at my condition, for never before

Did I fear hardships, even if they stretched their hands toward me,

But love has rendered me deaf, and my words were spoken in vain

Destiny struck down a lion with the eyes of a young gazelle,

O dweller of the plain, come rescue the dweller of the thicket!

my Beloved assailed my heart with the countless arrows of his piercing glance,

And left me wandering, bereft of all guidance

When he struck me and his arrow weakened my endurance,

I denied the wound and concealed the shaft within my liver

For wounds dealt by the beloved bring me no pain,

Whenever my moon appears, the moon itself is hidden

Long have I spent my nights in thought and wakefulness for love of him,

My soul is his, my blood, my hearing, and my sight

O you who blame me for loving him, love itself is destiny,

Had such longing consumed you, you would neither scold nor blame