أَقيكَ بِنَفسيَ صَرفَ الرَدى
وَحاشاكَ يا أَمَلي أَن تَحينا
With my own life, I shield you from the blows of death;
Far be it from you, my hope, ever to perish.
وَقُدِّمتُ قَبلَكَ نَحوَ الحِمامِ
وَبَعدَ مَماتي فَعِش أَنتَ حِينا
May I be sent before you to meet my doom;
And after I die, may you live on awhile.
Sol 5.6