أَرَسماً جَديداً مِن سُعادَ تَجَنَّبُ

عَفَت رَوضَةُ الأَجدادِ مِنها فَيَثقُبُ

I draw a new painting of happiness avoiding

The meadow of ancestors has withered in it, it penetrates

عَفا آيَهُ ريحُ الجُنوبِ مَعَ الصَبا

وَأَسحَمُ دانٍ مُزنُهُ مُتَصَوَّبُ

The verse of the southern wind has excused with the morning breeze

And a palm tree leaning, its branches entwined