أَوَ ما ترى طرب الغدير

إِلى النسيم إِذا تحرّكْ

Do you not see the pond’s delight

When breezes stir its surface bright?

بل لو رأَيت الماء

يلعب في جوانبه لَسَرَّكْ

And water playing round its banks

Would cheer you with its pranks.

وإِذا الصَّبا هبّتْ عليه

أَتاك في ثوبٍ مُفَرَّكْ

When dawn wind blows across its face

It comes to you in rippled grace.