أَلا يا غُرّةَ السَعدِ

وَقُرّةَ ناظِرِ المَجدِ

O you, the joy of fortune,

And delight of glory's watcher,

وَمَوالايَ الَّذي مازا

لَ يَسحَبُ حُلَّةَ الحَمدِ

My master who has never ceased

To don the robe of praise,

لِعَبدِكَ هِمَّةٌ هامَت

بِرَكضِ الضُمَّرِ الجردِ

Your servant's spirit soars

With the gallop of the bare intent.

وَيَرغَبُ ضارِعا مِنها

إِلى عَلياكَ في الوَردِ

And from it he longs, pleading,

For your lofty meadows.

وَإِن تَقبضهُ مِن عَبدٍ

تَمُنُّ بِهِ عَلى عَبدِ

And if you take him for a servant,

You bestow on a servant favor.