وابِأبي رَائِق الشبابِ ويَا

بَهْجَةَ خديهِ ما أُمَيْلِحَهَا

By my father’s youthful radiance, by

The alluring bloom of his cheek, how sweet

كأنني عِنْدَما أُقَبلهَا

أنْفُخُ في ورْدَةٍ لأفْتَحَها

It seems when I kiss that cheek of his,

I’m breathing life into a budding rose.