كأنما باب استها

شكلة كافٍ مطلقه

As if the door of complaint

A complete released shape

بين سطور كاتبِ

حروفه محققه

Between the lines of a writer

Whose letters are verified

يصكًّ لي بين يدي

سيدنا في ورقه

He pounds for me in front of

Our Master in a paper

باللحم والخبز الذي

روحي به معلقه

With the flesh and bread in which

My soul is suspended

يا من به قد فتحت

أبواب رزقي المغلقة

O You through Whom

The doors of my locked sustenance opened

وقع لمن علمه

جودك حذق العقعقه

Bestow upon the one who taught me

Your generosity, the skill of the lapwing