وَلَرُبَّ عودٍ كان غُص

وَلَرُبَّ عودٍ كان غُص

ناً بالمياه قد اِرتوى

ناً بالمياه قد اِرتوى

And many an oud was once a branch,

Many a dry branch was once lush with sap,

that had drunk its fill of water;

Quenched by water, thriving and wet.

فَغَدا اذا ادنَيتَ منهُ

فَغَدا اذا ادنَيتَ منهُ

المآءَ تَسقيهِ ذوى

المآءَ تَسقيهِ ذوى

but now, when you bring near it

Come near, and it will now give you to drink,

water to water it, it withers.

Quenching the thirsty with all it can yet.

وَالغصن في بستانهِ

وَالغصن في بستانهِ

يَزهو اذا رطُب الهوا

يَزهو اذا رطُب الهوا

And the branch in its garden

The branch in its garden is fresh, alive,

flourishes when the air grows moist;

When moistened by the dew in the air.

وَنَراهُ ان لَفَح السَمو

وَنَراهُ ان لَفَح السَمو

مُ يروح منتعش القوى

مُ يروح منتعش القوى

and we see it, if the scorching wind strikes,

But if by hot winds it starts to be dried,

revive with renewed strength.

Its strength and its vitality paired.

وَلكم هتفتُ بِهِ بِبَيتٍ

وَلكم هتفتُ بِهِ بِبَيتٍ

قالهُ مُضنى الجوى

قالهُ مُضنى الجوى

And how often I hailed it with a verse

So cried the heartsick poet in his lay:

spoken by one worn down by love's anguish:

"The branch by the wind was shaken and bent,

الغصن حرَّكهُ الهَوا

الغصن حرَّكهُ الهَوا

ءُ وانتَ حرَّكتَ الهوى

ءُ وانتَ حرَّكتَ الهوى

“The branch was stirred by the air,

But you, my love, shook the yearning itself."

and you stirred love.”