As your door is pinned on hope,
Behind it is soluble like al-Muzan water
If I come to you in honour,
I came back carrying land, unacceptable
Today I earn myself a slanderous intention,
About my illness with falsehoods
If I wanted you to expose the Messenger to what
I am afraid of the response, and I sought permission from Mel
Do you not see the rain pouring on the liver?
Free from the land of breadth and length
And the wind is angry with us for what you blame us,
So divide for us a branch from that Nile