الخُبْزُ فُتَّ وزُبْدُنا قَدْ ذَابَا

فَاهْمَعْ بِقَطْرِكَ لا عُدِمْتَ سَحَابَا

Our bread has crumbled and our butter has melted

So rain down with your droplets, be not devoid of clouds

أَوْ بِالقُطارةِ أَو فَعَجلّ مُرْسَلاً

فَالعَيْشُ أصْبَحَ بَعْدَ حُلْوٍ صَابَا

Or with a drizzle, or send down a heavy rain

For life has become bitter after sweetness

والجَرُّ لَستُ أُحِبُّهُ في مَوْعِدٍ

مَاطَالَ شَيْءٌ في الوُعُودِ فَطَابَا

And waiting I do not like at its time

Nothing is good in promises that have dragged on

أَمْطِرْ نَواحِيَنَا التى قَدْ أَجْدَبَتْ

وَنَدا يَدَيْكَ بِكُلِّ قَطْرٍ صَابَا

Rain down upon our barren valleys

And your hands are called upon with every drop that pours down