فَما زالَ بَردي طَيِّباً مِن ثِيابِها

فَما زالَ بَردي طَيِّباً مِن ثِيابِها

إِلى الحولِ حَتّى انهَج البَرد بالِيا

إِلى الحولِ حَتّى انهَج البَرد بالِيا

So my cloak stayed fragrant from her clothes

So my robe still kept the scent of her garments

For a year, until the cloak grew threadbare and worn.

A whole year through, until its very wool took on the perfume again.