وَمُلهٍ لَهَونا بِهِ عِندَما

تَغَنّى بِصَوتٍ لَهُ أَهوَجِ

A plaything we have made of him when

He sang in a voice that enthralled

إِذا ما الصَوابُ غَدا مَنهَجاً

تَعَرَّجَ عَن ذَلِكَ المَنهَجِ

Yet when right becomes the path

He swerves from that path

وَيَخرُجُ في كُلِّ إِيقاعِهِ

فَأَوقَعَهُ اللَهُ في المَخرَجِ

And comes out in every rhythm

So God made him end in ruin