ضربت فجاوبها الهزار بدَوحهِ

ضربت فجاوبها الهزار بدَوحهِ

وَالغصن يَرقص عند تصفيق الورق

وَالغصن يَرقص عند تصفيق الورق

She played, and the nightingale answered her from its leafy grove.

She strummed it, and the strings hummed in response,

And the branch dances to the clapping of the leaves.

While branches danced as leaves clapped in applause.

فرنا إليهِ عودُها واجابُه

فرنا إليهِ عودُها واجابُه

ان كنتَ مَن غنى فاني من نطق

ان كنتَ مَن غنى فاني من نطق

Then her lute gazed at him and answered him:

Her lute leaned close to hear his gentle tones,

“If you are the one who sang, then I am the one who spoke.”

“Though you make music, I alone give voice.”