مِن حُبِّيَ الدُنيا عَلى خُبثِها

مِن حُبِّيَ الدُنيا عَلى خُبثِها

وَطيبِ نَفسي بِأَخابيثَها

وَطيبِ نَفسي بِأَخابيثَها

Such is my love for the world, despite its wickedness,

From my love of this world despite its vileness,

and my soul’s contentment with its foul things,

And my soul's delight in its wickedness,

أَنِّيَ إِن نِمتُ عَلى حالَةٍ

أَنِّيَ إِن نِمتُ عَلى حالَةٍ

لَستُ أَرى إِلّا أَحاديثُها

لَستُ أَرى إِلّا أَحاديثُها

that, if I fall asleep in any state,

Whenever I sleep in one condition,

I see nothing but tales of it.

I see naught but its empty words.