هويْتُ حصاداً حكَتْ قامتي

مِنْ طولِ ما يهجرُني مِنْجلهْ

I fell, a harvest that my stance narrated

From the length of what his sickle abandoned me

أقولُ والسنبلُ مِنْ حولِهِ

مولايَ أنتَ الشمسُ في السنبلهْ

I say, and the spikes surround it:

My Master, you are the sun amidst the spike