يا باقةً في يميني للرّدى بُذِلَتْ

أذابَ قَلبي عَلَيكِ الحُزْنُ والأسَفُ

O bouquet in my right hand offered to ruin

Grief and sorrow melted my heart for you

أَلَم تَكوني لِتاجِ الحُسْنِ جَوهرةً

لَمّا غَرِقْتِ فَهَلّا صَانَكِ الصّدفُ

Were you not meant as a jewel in the crown of beauty?

When you drowned, why did the oyster not protect you?