أَيري وَأَيرُكَ يا كُوَي

رَةَ في حِرِ اِمِّكَ ما أَرَكَّك

I see and I don't see, oh dove

In the heat of your passion how restless you are

بِعتَ الغُلامَ فَمَن يَحُك

كُ غَداً حَتارَكَ إِن أَحَكَّك

You sold the boy, so who will caress you

Tomorrow when passion perplexes you