1. I remember, O Salma, our nights when
Hazwa watered Hazwa with drizzling rain,

2. So generously bless those nights, nights of grace,
And generously bless Hazwa among them as a station.

3. My soul has been sick with excessive yearning
For them, and till this day has not recovered,

4. And I have tried, O Salma, by every means
To console it, but it will not be consoled.

5. I hope for the encounter with death every hour
For my soul is tired of life and fed up.