نَبتَ العِذارُ عَلى مُحيّا فاتِني

نَبتَ العِذارُ عَلى مُحيّا فاتِني

Cheek-down has sprouted on my charmer's face,

The wildflowers have blossomed on the cheeks of a beautiful maiden

With tender, delicate growth, smooth to the touch

نَبتاً لَطيفاً ناعِماً في اللّمسِ

نَبتاً لَطيفاً ناعِماً في اللّمسِ

A delicate growth, soft to the touch.

Those passionate with love flock to gather them

Offering their souls to pluck this treasure

هِيموا بِهِ أَهلَ الغَرامِ صَبابَةً

هِيموا بِهِ أَهلَ الغَرامِ صَبابَةً

Be mad for him, O people of love, with yearning,

So if you're drawn to the silk of her wildflowers

Cling beautifully to the ropes of sunlight

وَتَعلَّقوهُ فَديتهُ بِالنّفسِ

وَتَعلَّقوهُ فَديتهُ بِالنّفسِ

And cling to him—I would ransom him with my life.

فَإِذا تَعَلّقتُم حَريرَ عِذارِهِ

فَإِذا تَعَلّقتُم حَريرَ عِذارِهِ

So when you cling to the silk of his cheek-down,

حسنَ التّعلّقِ في حِبالِ الشّمسِ

حسنَ التّعلّقِ في حِبالِ الشّمسِ

Lovely is the clinging to the cords of the sun.