سَلِّ الْهُمُومَ بِتَوْشِيحِي وَأَشْعَارِي

سَلِّ الْهُمُومَ بِتَوْشِيحِي وَأَشْعَارِي

إِنَّ الْمَسَرَّةَ فِي تَزْيِينِ أَوْتَارِي

إِنَّ الْمَسَرَّةَ فِي تَزْيِينِ أَوْتَارِي

Dispel cares with my muwashshah and my poems.

Unburden your worries with my poems and songs

Soothe your sorrows with my tawshih and my poetry,

Indeed, joy lies in adorning my strings.

For my joy lies in plucking the strings of my lute

For true delight lies in the embellishment of my strings.

فَسَطْعَتِي تُنْشِدُ السُّلْوَانَ مَايَتُهَا

فَسَطْعَتِي تُنْشِدُ السُّلْوَانَ مَايَتُهَا

وَرَمْلُهَا يَطْلُبُ الْحُزْنَ بِأَوْتَارِي

وَرَمْلُهَا يَطْلُبُ الْحُزْنَ بِأَوْتَارِي

So my radiance—its Māya sings solace.

My radiance sings of the nightingale's longing

Through my radiant notes, the Maya mode sings of solace,

And its Raml seeks sorrow through my strings.

While my verses seek sorrow in the chords

While the Raml mode calls forth sorrow upon my strings.