دُنياكَ تُكنى بِأُمِّ دَفرٍ

لَم يَكنِها الناسُ أُمَّ طيبِ

Your world is nicknamed the mother of misfortune

People do not consider it a kind mother

فَأذَن إِلى هاتِفٍ مُجيدٍ

قامَ عَلى غُصنِهِ الرَطيبِ

So listen to a glorious caller

Who stood on its fresh branch

يَكونُ عِندَ اللَبيبِ مِنّا

أَبلَغَ مِن واعِظٍ خَطيبِ

To the sensible among us

More eloquent than a preaching orator

يَحلِفُ ما جادَت اللَيالي

إِلّا بِسُمٍّ لَنا قَطيبِ

He swears the nights were not generous

Except with poison for us, how terrible