يا كَنَّةً ما كُنتِ غَيرَ لَئيمَةٍ

بَيضاءَ مِثلَ الرَوضَةِ المِحلالِ

O owl, you have never been anything but vile,

White like a blossoming meadow,

ما إن تُبيتينا بِصَوتٍ صُلَّبٍ

فَيِبيتَ مِنهُ القَومُ في بَلبالِ

You hoot at us in a raspy voice,

Leaving people restless all night,

وَلا تَبادِرُ بالشِتاءِ وَلِيدَنا

القِدرَ تُنزِلُها بِغَيرِ جِعالِ

Do not pounce on our newborn in winter,

Destiny brings that without needing you.