وَإِنَّ شِفَائِي عَبْرَةٌ مُهْرَاقَةٌ
فَهَلْ عِنْدَ رَسْمٍ دَارِسٍ مِنْ مُعَوَّلِ
Indeed, my relief is a tear poured out; yet can one find anything to rely upon at a fading, long-abandoned trace?
The companions recommend restraint, but the poet experiences crying as an immediate release of grief. Shifāʾī, “my cure,” is not medical treatment here, but an image of emotional relief.
The second hemistich complicates the first: tears are possible, but can a deserted site restore the lost relationship? The question provides a reflective close to the opening scene.