قَد ناحَ أَنطونُ سيورٍ مُودّعةٌ
حَثَّت إِلى المَنزلِ الباقي مَطِيَّتُها
Antoun Siour has wailed over a girl taking her leave;
Her mount sped toward the everlasting abode.
بِكرٌ مِن الكامِلاتِ الحُسنِ واأَسَفا
في سِنِّ أَربعَ قَد ذاقَت مَنيَّتُها
A maiden among those consummate in beauty—alas!
At four years old, she tasted her appointed death.
عاشت بِغَيرِ شَقاءٍ في الوَرى وَمَضَت
وَوَصمةُ الذَنبِ لَم تَلحق طويَّتَها
She lived without suffering among mortals, then passed away,
And the stain of sin never touched her inmost soul.
فَقِيلَ إِذ ناظِمُ التأريخِ سَطَّرَهُ
اليَومَ مريمُ قَد زارت سميَّتَها
So, when the composer of the chronogram inscribed it, it was said:
Today Mary has visited her namesake.
Sol 5.6