دُنيا تَحولُ بِأَهلِها

في كُلِّ يَومٍ مَرَّتينِ

Roaming with its people each day

The world transforms with its inhabitants

The world spins twice round,

Twice in every single day:

فَغُدوُّها لِتَجَمُّعٍ

وَرَواحُها لِشَتاتِ بَينِ

Its morn gathers them in,

Its morning is for a gathering,

Its eve drives them apart

And its evening for the scattering of separation.