سَقى اللَهُ أَرضَ الغوطَتَينِ وَأَهلَها

فَلي بِحَنوبِ الغَواطَتَينِ جُنونُ

May God water the land of the two Ghoutas and its people.

For the south of the two Ghoutas, a madness is mine.

وَما ذَكَرَتها النَفسُ إِلّا اِستَفَزَّني

إِلى صيبِ ماءِ النَيرَبَينِ حَنينُ

Whenever the soul remembers her, I am stirred

toward the downpour of the two Nayrabs’ water—driven by longing.

وَقَد كانَ شَكّيفي الفِراقِ مُرَوِّعي

فَكَيفَ أَكونُ اليَومَ وَهوَ يَقينُ

Once, even doubt of separation was what terrified me;

how am I to be today, now that it is certain?