يا مَنْ تَمَلَّكَني بِمَا

يا مَنْ تَمَلَّكَني بِمَا

أَوْلاَهُ من نِعَمٍ وأسْدَى

أَوْلاَهُ من نِعَمٍ وأسْدَى

O you who have made me yours with

O You who owns me with what

the favors you have bestowed and conferred,

You have bestowed on me of blessings and support

أشْكُو إليكَ مُهَنَّداً

أشْكُو إليكَ مُهَنَّداً

هَجَرَ الغُمُودَ وظَلَّ فَردَا

هَجَرَ الغُمُودَ وظَلَّ فَردَا

I complain to you of an Indian-steel sword

I complain to You, exhausted,

that has forsaken its scabbards and remained alone.

Having abandoned clouds and remained solitary

قَدْ كَادَ ممَّا لا يَقِرُّ

قَدْ كَادَ ممَّا لا يَقِرُّ

يَخِدُّ في فَخذَيَّ خَدّا

يَخِدُّ في فَخذَيَّ خَدّا

It has nearly, because it will not keep still,

Almost from what gives me no rest

cut a furrow in my thighs.

My cheek would split on my thigh

فَقِني ذَلاَقَةَ حَدِّهِ

فَقِني ذَلاَقَةَ حَدِّهِ

وأَتِحْ لَهُ بندَاكَ غِمْدَا

وأَتِحْ لَهُ بندَاكَ غِمْدَا

So protect me from the keenness of its edge,

So save me from the sharpness of its edge

and grant it, through your generosity, a sheath.

And open for it Your scabbard, a sheath