دُنيا تَحولُ بِأَهلِها

دُنيا تَحولُ بِأَهلِها

في كُلِّ يَومٍ مَرَّتينِ

في كُلِّ يَومٍ مَرَّتينِ

The world turns with its people,

Roaming with its people each day

The world transforms with its inhabitants

Twice in every day.

The world spins twice round,

Twice in every single day:

فَغُدوُّها لِتَجَمُّعٍ

فَغُدوُّها لِتَجَمُّعٍ

وَرَواحُها لِشَتاتِ بَينِ

وَرَواحُها لِشَتاتِ بَينِ

So its morning is for gathering,

Its morn gathers them in,

Its morning is for a gathering,

And its evening for scattering apart.

Its eve drives them apart

And its evening for the scattering of separation.