إِذا ما أَتَتنا الرّيحُ مِن نَحوِ أَرضِهِ

أَتَتناه بِريّاه مطاب فَطابَ هبوبُها

When the wind blows to us from the direction of his land

It comes to us bearing the scent of his radiant meadows, so its blowing is pleasant

أَتَتنا بِعَرفٍ خالِد المِسك عَنبرٍ

وَريحِ خُزامى باكَرتهُ جنوبُها

It comes to us with an eternal, musky fragrance, with ambergris,

And the south wind of Khuzama in its prime

أَحنّ لِذكراهُ إِذا ما ذَكَرتُهُ

وَتَنهل عَبراتٌ تَفيض غُروبها

I yearn for his memory when I remember him

And tears well up and flow with their sadness

حَنينُ أَسيرٍ نازحٍ شدّ قَيدهُ

وَأَعوال نَفسٍ غابَ عَنها حَبيبها

The longing of a displaced captive whose chains are drawn tight

And the lament of a soul whose beloved has left her