إِذَا كَانَ فَوْقِي مِنْ نَدَاكَ غَمَامَةٌ

إِذَا كَانَ فَوْقِي مِنْ نَدَاكَ غَمَامَةٌ

وَحَوْلِيَ رَوْحٌ مِنْ رِضَاكَ وَرَيْحَانُ

وَحَوْلِيَ رَوْحٌ مِنْ رِضَاكَ وَرَيْحَانُ

If above me is a cloud of your bounty,

When above me there is a cloud from your calling,

And around me are comfort from your favor and sweet basil,

And around me a spirit of your pleasure and basil,

فَإِنَّ سُمُومَ الْقَيْظِ عِنْدِيَ نَسْمَةٌ

فَإِنَّ سُمُومَ الْقَيْظِ عِنْدِيَ نَسْمَةٌ

وَإِنَّ هَشِيمَ الْفَقْرِ عِنْدِيَ بُستَانُ

وَإِنَّ هَشِيمَ الْفَقْرِ عِنْدِيَ بُستَانُ

Then midsummer’s scorching wind is to me a breeze,

Then truly the poisons of heat for me are a breeze,

And poverty’s dry brushwood is to me a garden.

And truly the rubble of poverty for me is a garden.