1. You have brought us glad tidings of a renewed life,
From the meadow, the breaths of spring breeze blow,

2. So we walked while the valleys’ twigs blossomed,
Growing bracelets for the forearms clearly show,

3. Life in us turns green and stretches far,
On the meadow’s pages, those theatres,

4. We stayed while the fountains’ ardour paled,
Humming spring, and the pond brimming overflows,

5. We draw near it with measured steps, and the bower is rapt,
And we pluck bunches of flowers and fragrant bloom,

6. And we make of it green, shade, and thickets,
On its fertile land, and the river meandering flows,

7. We create pleasures, and the air grows darker,
With the blood of hunted game and prey gushing flows,

8. And we listen to the commotion of the stags,
To the songs of birds and the far call echoes,

9. To the lute answering the reed pipe’s voice,
And the voice of doves to the turtle dove responds,

10. Conversing with a moonlike gazelle sadly cries,
And there a son of Warka alone on the branch,

11. Playing with the edge of the streams loudly laughs,
And an Iraqi there finding fresh dewberry,

12. Dear morsel from what makes the wings flutter,
Doves on the branch of Arak wood paired,

13. Yet for hearts they are but meaning’s fleshrippers.