صَارَ أَيري دَجاجَةً تَخْصنُ البَيْ

ضَ بِرَغْمي وَعَن قَليلٍ يُنادِي

My air became a hen that lays eggs

In spite of me, and soon will call

المِلاحَ المِلاحَ وَيلي عَلَيْهِ

والمِلاحُ المِلاحُ جُلُّ مُرادِي

Sailor, sailor - woe is me!

Yet a sailor - that is all I desire