تَغَنّى عَلى المِزمارِ بَدرُ مَحاسِنٍ

فَحَلَّ بِقَلبِ المُستَهامِ شِفاءُ

A full moon of graces sang to the flute’s accompaniment,

and healing came to dwell in the lovesick heart.

وَقَد قالَ لي المِزمارُ روحك مَن هَوى

وَروحي وَلا يَخفى عَلَيكَ هَواءُ

The flute said to me, “Yours is the soul of one who has loved,”

“and so is mine; nor is the air hidden from you.”