يَمُرُّ بي وَفدُ الصِبا
وَاللَيلُ يَقضي نَحبُهُ
Youth’s procession passes me by
as night fulfills its appointed term.
مَرَّ بِرَوضٍ زاهِرٍ
ذَرَّ عَلَيهِ عُشبُهُ
It passed through a meadow in bloom;
the meadow’s grass showered it with scent.
فَخِلتُهُ مِن طيبِهِ
نَشوَةَ مَن أُحِبُّهُ
So, from its perfume, I fancied it
the rapture of the one I love.
Sol 5.6