إِذَا كَانَ فَوْقِي مِنْ نَدَاكَ غَمَامَةٌ

وَحَوْلِيَ رَوْحٌ مِنْ رِضَاكَ وَرَيْحَانُ

When above me there is a cloud from your calling,

And around me a spirit of your pleasure and basil,

فَإِنَّ سُمُومَ الْقَيْظِ عِنْدِيَ نَسْمَةٌ

وَإِنَّ هَشِيمَ الْفَقْرِ عِنْدِيَ بُستَانُ

Then truly the poisons of heat for me are a breeze,

And truly the rubble of poverty for me is a garden.