دهتنا السماء غداة النجاب — Almikala

The sky assailed us on the morning of al-Nijab,

with a cloud pouring rain across its horizon.

Then it brought thunder with a ringing cry,

like a bereaved mother's wail, though she had lost no child.

And it followed with a downpour exceeding its bounds,

so it became a scourge on the drought-stricken land.

And our companions, through its ravages, came

to the brink of a dreadful, intractable peril.

So some crouched in the space before the wall,

and some sheltered in an abandoned tunnel.

And some sought aid, calling to the drowning man

there, while others cried out and wailed.

And the sky of the roofs poured down upon us

with tears of anguish, not a tear neglected.

As though it were forbidden for it to see

any dry ground that had not been drenched.

And a torrent came on, striking terror,

so everyone turned and fled from the oncoming flood.

It uproots whatever great trees it chooses,

and carries off whatever rock it encounters.

As though within its entrails, when it appeared,

were a pregnant woman's unborn children, though she had not conceived.

So some inhabited land it turned into wasteland,

and some marked places became like trackless wilderness.

Our Lord spared us its calamity;

so thanks are due to the Benefactor.

So tell the sky: “Flash your lightning and thunder,

for we have returned home.”