«إِلَى أَنْ احْتَذَيْنَا الْوَجَى وَاغْتَذَيْنَا الشَّجَى وَاسْتَبْطَنَّا الْجَوَى»
Until foot pain became our shoes, sorrow our nourishment, and inner anguish something we carried within.
Wajā is pain or soreness of the feet, shajā is a choking obstruction and by extension grief, and jawā is deep inward anguish. The verbs iḥtadhaynā, ightadhaynā, istabaṭannā turn afflictions into something worn, consumed and carried internally.
The stranger’s speech continues beyond this point. His account has traced a coherent descent from claimed abundance through losses and household suffering to bodily felt distress. He then presses his appeal further.