لَو كانَ قَلبي عَنِ الأَشغالِ مُنتَزِحاً

نادى لِفَقدِ حَبيبِ النَفسِ وَاِحرَبا

If my heart were free from all cares

It would cry out from missing my soul's beloved, and grieve,

لَكِنَّما شُغلُهُ بِالمَجدِ مُجتَهِداً

يُلهيهِ عَن حُبِّهِ من بانَ أَو قَرُبا

But it is occupied with aspiring to glory, striving

Its passion makes it forget those near or far, its love.