نَسِيمَ الصَّبَا هَلاَّ تَحَمَّلْتَ مِنْ شَجٍ

سَلاَماً كَأَنْفَاسِ الْحَدَائِقِ مَوْهِنَا

Gentle breeze of the morning, would you carry

O breeze of the East, will you not bear from a grieving soul

Greetings soft as the gardens' breath, serene,

A greeting like the breath of gardens in the deep of night,

وَهُبَّ عَلَى مَنْ حَالَ بَيْنِي وَبَيْنَهُمْ

سَبَاسِبُ أَوْلَتْنِي الْكَآبَةَ وَالضَّنَى

And waft to those from whom fate did me parry

And blow upon those who are parted from me

Solace for the sorrow that remains unseen.

By vast wastelands that have afflicted me with gloom and wasting away.