1. Oh blessing that was mighty but did not last,
And so are blessings, however great.

2. We lived an age when our lot was divided,
And we were content, unlike the rest.

3. Till we lost it and our pride
Was as abject as wealth is naught.

4. Grief consumes my heart, O Umayma,
That you leave and gladness leaves my soul.

5. What am I in this struggle, who profits?
Why spend my strength and blood in vain?