1. To whom does the caravan in the valley of Qubaa belong,
With tender young maidens swaying gracefully among them.

2. They are shining lights in the dark night,
With radiant faces outshining the falling stars.

3. When the wind blows by them, it carries the scent of musk and breaths of ambergris.
They find their way in the darkness by the light of a moon that shines through the gloom.

4. They marched on, driving their camels with a tinkling sound amidst the howling winds.
Behind the caravan, folded with grief, is one

5. Whose heart burns with sorrow.
With tearful eyes he follows their trail,

6. And a heart pierced with the arrow of youth.
They have departed the land of green grass, and their grazing ground

7. Has been watered by my tears.
They descended the slopes - Oh my eyes, weep

8. For the beloved ones a flood of tears.
The sun of our meeting has set far from them,

9. So stay awake through the night and watch the shooting stars.