ضَرِيحٌ لِابْنِ حِرْزِ النَّاسِ حِرْزِي

وَمَوْئِلُ بُغْيَتِي وَمَلاَذُ عِزِّي

A tomb for the son, protector of mankind

The shrine of the son of the people's sanctuary is my own sanctuary,

My shelter from tyranny, refuge of my honor

The destination of my quest and the haven of my glory.

أَلُوذُ بِهِ إِذَا الْأَهْوَالُ جَاشَتْ

بَلاَبِلُهَا التِي أَبْدَيْنَ عَجْزِي

I take refuge in it when terrors surge

I seek shelter within it when terrors surge,

With their endless storms that expose my frailty

With their turmoils that lay bare my helplessness.