1. When I recall the singing-girl and her lute,
I moan, and the singing-girl and lute make me weep.

2. My heart yearns toward Sanaa, when it saw
The sky of life lightning toward Sanaa.

3. It yearns for a meadow in Sanaa, turned green,
Whose draught of fresh water is never sullied.

4. My heart has learned that it must lose its soul
When it attains the basin of meaning and overflows.

5. It hopes for a companion whose being scintillates with life
Whose swords against his detractors give proof.