1. Oh, how delightful are the joys of this life and its play,
And how delightful is the pure, virgin coffee that we drink,

2. Red in the hands of its pourer, preserved,
As if it were the blood of a slaughtered sheep when he pours it.

3. You can see it shimmering in the spout of the pot at night
When its star falls into the cup.

4. And I was alone with it in the face of a beautiful, charming lady
Whose love pleased me and I pleased her.

5. Give me that, my soul, when it needs it,
And turn away from it and let not its desire distract you.

6. And I praise the Father of the Arabs, the hoped for victor,
The best of creation when she traces his lineage,

7. When kings mention us then honor us,
And the best of us is ‘Ateeq al-Azad who makes her Arab.

8. He has fertile orchards of Nabhan that were honored
And pureness spread in the Azd from Qahtan's lineage.

9. He contained all the noble virtues,
And he never ceased containing them and seeking them out

10. With resolution that confronted events erecting its edifice,
And aspiration that exceeded the brightest star in its course,

11. And a nature as pure as the clearness of water,
And tranquility that flooded the tranquil with its downpour.

12. And the mention of him did not cease, exalted and attaining
In the land, its furthest east and its furthest west.

13. May his abode in the honor of his rank last long,
Attaining for him the best and sweetest of this life.