إذا أحمدُ القَطَّانُ غَنَّى توقَّفَت

إذا أحمدُ القَطَّانُ غَنَّى توقَّفَت

له الطيرُ في جَوِّ السماء تُصيخُ

له الطيرُ في جَوِّ السماء تُصيخُ

When Ahmad al-Qattan sings, they pause—

When Ahmad the singer sings, the birds in the sky's expanse stand still,

the birds in the sky's expanse, listening intently to him.

And nearly every melody and tune and lute and flute into the soil would melt from shyness,

وكاد حياءً كُلُّ لَحنٍ ونغمةٍ

وكاد حياءً كُلُّ لَحنٍ ونغمةٍ

وعودٍ وناي في التراب يَسيخُ

وعودٍ وناي في التراب يَسيخُ

And, out of shame, every melody and note comes close,

My hearing has become impaired from the clangor of his voice,

along with every oud and reed flute, to sinking into the earth.

My joy overflows and my sorrows grow old.

تَقَرَّطَ سَمعِي من جَلاجِلِ صوتِهِ

تَقَرَّطَ سَمعِي من جَلاجِلِ صوتِهِ

فَشَبَّ سُروري والهمومُ تشيخُ

فَشَبَّ سُروري والهمومُ تشيخُ

My hearing wore the ringing bells of his voice as earrings;

so my joy grew young, while cares grow old.