يا نَسيمَ الرياضِ هَذا عَليلٌ

وَمُحِبّ تُبَلِّغينَ سَلامَه

O breeze of the gardens, here is an ailing man,

a lover—carry his greeting onward.

وَتَلَطَّف في بَذلِ عُذرِ مُحِبّ

وَلتَقُل لِلَّذي يَقول سَلامَه

Be gentle as you offer a lover’s excuse,

and speak to the one for whom he utters his greeting—

الإِمام الهُمامُ بَدرُ الدَياجي

حُجَّةُ العَصرِ شَيخُنا ابنُ سَلامَه

the dauntless imam, the full moon of dark nights,

the proof of the age, our shaykh Ibn Salāma.

فَأَنا في الوَفاءِ مِثلُ يَزيدٍ

حينَ لاموه في هَواهُ سَلامَه

For in faithfulness I am like Yazīd,

when they reproached him for his love of Salāma.

بَشِّري سَيِّدي بِنَيلِ الأَماني

فالتَهاني قَد أَقبَلَت وَالسَلامَه

Give my master glad tidings of attaining his hopes;

for congratulations have come—and well-being too.