وُهَيْبُ نَجْلِي سَقَى الرَّبَابْ

قَبْرَكَ قَلْبِي عَلَيكَ ذَابْ

My son's love watered the lute

Wuhaib, my son, may the white clouds water

Your grave melted my heart for you

Your grave; my heart has melted over you.

بُنَيِّ يَا بُنْيَةَ ارْتِيَاحِي

إِنِّي بُعَيْدَكَ فِي انْتِحَابْ

My son, my daughter, be at peace

My little boy, O foundation of my joy,

For I am in torment without you

Indeed, so soon after you left, I am lost in weeping.

غَرَسْتُ حُبَّكَ فِي فُؤَادِي

لَمَّا غَرَسْتُكَ فِي الترابْ

I planted my love for you in my heart

I planted your love within my heart

When I planted you in the soil

When I planted you within the earth.

فَالحُبُّ يَنْمُو ولسْتَ تَنْمو

وَالقَلْبُ يَصْلَى لَظَى اكْتِئابْ

Love grows though you cannot grow

So my love grows, while you grow no more,

And my heart prays, depressed with gloom

And my heart burns in the blazing fire of grief.

مِتَّ صَغيراً وَإِنَّ وَجْدِي

بِكَ يَجِلُّ عَنِ الْحِسَابْ

You died so young, yet my passion for you

You died so young, yet indeed my anguish

Is too great to calculate

For you is too immense for any reckoning.

فَمَاتَ صَبْرِي الكَبيرُ مَوْتاً

وَإِنَّهُ لِمِنَ اللُّبَابْ

My great patience has died such a death

Thus, my great patience suffered its own death,

Though it was the patience of rationality

Even though it was of the purest essence.

رَيْحَانَ قَلْبِي نَعِمْتَ أَرِّجْ

رَيْحانَ أجْرِي إِلَى الْحِسَابْ

Fragrance of my heart, you brought ease

O sweet basil of my heart, be in bliss, and perfume

Fragrance of my reward, face the Reckoning

The sweet basil of my reward until the Day of Reckoning.

وَسَلْ لِوَالِدِكَ الْمُعَنَّى

مِنْ رَبِّكَ الْوَاهِبِ الثَّوَابْ

And ask your Lord, the Giver of Reward

And ask on behalf of your suffering father,

For your father who was so afflicted

From your Lord, the Bestower of rewards;

قَدْ كَانَ يَقْضِي عَلَيْكَ وَجْداً

لَوْلاَ التَّرَقُّبُ لِلذَّهَابْ

Grieving for you, he would have perished

He would have surely died of sorrow over you,

Had he not awaited his own departure

Were it not for the anticipation of his own departure.

وَرُوحُكَ الَّلتْ زَكَتْ سَقَتْهَا

مِنْ رَوْحِ سَيِّدِكَ الذِّهَابْ

And your soul, made pure, was watered

And may your purified soul be watered

By the soul of your Master, the Everlasting

By the continuous, gentle rains of your Lord's mercy.