يا مَن لَهُ بَحرٌ مِنَ البِرِّ

يَفرَقُ فيهِ سائِحُ الفَقرِ

O One who has an ocean of kindness

In which the poor wanderer travels

قَد قادَتِ الريحُ مِنَ السُحبِ ما

يَسحَبُ أَرساناً مِنَ القَطرِ

The wind has led from the clouds what

Pulls down banners of rain

وَالرَوضُ مَيدانٌ لِأَمثالِنا

مِنَ الجِيادِ السُبَّقِ الغَرِّ

While the meadow is a racecourse for the likes of us

Of the outstanding, swift, and noble steeds

فَاِجرِ بِنا في طَلَقٍ واحِدٍ

لَعَلَّنا نَلحَقُ بِالشُكرِ

So take us on a pleasant outing

That we may catch up with gratefulness