اِنظُر إِلى حُسنِ هِلالٍ بَدا

يَهتِكُ مِن أَنوارِهِ الحِندِسا

Behold the beauty of the crescent that appears

Ripping through the veil with its radiant light

كَمِنجَلٍ قَد صيغَ مِن فِضَّةٍ

يَحصُدُ مِن زُهرِ الدُجى نَرجِسا

Like a finely wrought silver sickle

Reaping narcissus flowers from the thickets of night