Oh Lord, help Rima to sleep, may she become sleepy
May she grow loving to pray and to fast

Oh God make her healthier each day
May she go to sleep and I will cook a delicious pigeon

Go pigeon bird, don't believe what I am saying,
I just say it so that Rima will sleep

Rima, Rima, beautiful rose of the prairies, you have shining blond hair
The one who loves you shall kiss, and the one who hates you will go away

Oh merchants of grapes and of jujube, tell my mother and my father
the gypsies have kidnapped me from below the tent of Majdaliyyeh

I will take you on a little trip, to place where there are prunes under the apricot tree
And each time the wind blows, I will pick an apricot for Rima

Hey Lina, lend us you kettle and you bowl
So that we wash the clothes of Rima, and hang them up on the jasmine tree