أَمَرْجُنا المَرْجِيّ أَيّ مَرْجِ
في تِيْنِهِ البالِغِ غَيْرِ الفِجِّ
What a meadow our Marjī meadow is!
What meadow is this, so fragrant and pure,
With its figs fully ripe, not unripe,
With fruits so ripe, and untrod by man's footsteps impure?
يُشْبِهُ في اللَّوْنِ وَرِيحَ الأَرْجِ
نَوَافِجَ المسْكِ وَبَرْدِ الثَّلْجِ
They resemble, in color and fragrant scent,
Its scent is like musk, its hue is like snow,
Musk sacs and the coolness of snow,
Or heads of barley, so black, in a row,
مِثْلَ رُؤوسِ العَلْفِ سُودَ نَسْجِ
أَوْ كَثُدَايا ناهِدَاتِ الزِّنْجِ
Like heads of fodder plants, black in texture,
Or breasts of maidens, with beauty aglow.
Or like the breasts of nubile Zanj women.
Sol 6.1