إِذا الحَرب جالَت بِهِم جَولَة

إِذا الحَرب جالَت بِهِم جَولَة

وصالَ بِهِم دَهرهم صَولَه

وصالَ بِهِم دَهرهم صَولَه

When war whirls them about,

Softly the west wind sighs,

and their fate assails them with an onslaught,

Gently night's shadows fall;

فلِلَّهِ دَرّك أَيّ اِبن يَوم

فلِلَّهِ دَرّك أَيّ اِبن يَوم

وَدَرّك أَيّ اِبن ما لَيلَه

وَدَرّك أَيّ اِبن ما لَيلَه

then God bless you—what a son of a day!

Peace broods over all,

And bless you—what a son of a night!

Calm shall my spirit be.