قَد زارَني الحِبُّ في تمّوزَ يا فَرحي

والدَّمعُ من مُقلَتي يَجري بِإِفراطِ

Love visited me in July, O my joy

And tears from my eyelids flow copiously

فَالشَّمسُ طالِعَةٌ وَالغيثُ مُنهمِلٌ

وَمِثلُ ذا لَم يَكُن في غَيرِ أَشباطِ

The sun is rising and the rain is pouring down

The like of this has not been, save in February