الغَيمُ يَخلِطُ نَوحَهُ بِبُكائِهِ

فَاِشرَب عَلى العَبَراتِ مِن أَندائِهِ

The clouds mix their wailing with their weeping,

So drink the tears from their cries.

ذَهَباً إِذا ذَهَبَت إِلَيهِ مُقلَةٌ

وَقَفَت تُمَتِّعُ لَحظَها بِصَفائِهِ

Gold, when a weeping eye turns to it,

Stands still, delighting its gaze with its purity,

مَعَ ذي دلالٍ ما نَحَوتُ مَسَرَّةً

حَتّى يَسيرَ بِنا دَليلُ غِنائِهِ

With one who points the way I never looked for joy

Until the guide of his singing led us on.

مِن قَبلِ أَن يَبدو وَالثَرى لَكَ عاطِلاً

مِن تِبرِ عَبهَرِهِ وَفَضَّةِ مائِهِ

Before the ground appears to you barren

Of the perfume of its dust and the silver of its water.