مولاي روض الحظِّ ما يبسا

وحمى الصفا والجود ما درسا

My Master, the garden of joy has not withered,

Nor has the zeal for excellence and generosity diminished,

والراح ما زالت مشعشعة

تجلو لنا من نورها قبسا

And the wind is still gloriously blowing,

Shedding some of its light upon us,

فاسرع لنحسوها معتَّقةً

ديريةً لا تعرف الدنسا

So let us hurry to inhale its free air,

A monastery that knows no impurity.

لو ذقت يا مولاي ريقتها

لحسبتها من طيبها لعسا

If you were to taste it, my Master,

You would think it honeycomb from its sweetness.

إن الوزير رأى يوظفني

ويفيدني مع ذلك النفسا

The minister wants to employ me

And benefit me, refreshing my soul,

فاليوم تأتي ماشياً وغداً

إن كان يصدق تركب الفرسا

So today I come on foot, and tomorrow,

If he is true, I shall ride a steed.