1. O father of poetry, say what delights the son and father,
And what else can you say to please them both?

2. And as this world sings a melody for July's birth,
What else can you sing to make them joyful?

3. And if rhymes allow you, whenever you wish, to make
A “guitar” and “flute” weep, what excuse do you have?

4. O father of poetry, you who embraced the earth like a flower,
And it pricked you with thorns, leaving you blood-stained.

5. And you, whom “rebellion” adopted in your youth,
And in your old age, though you lamented rebellion.

6. Sing of “July” so a defiant July arises,
Surpassing the barrenness of ages, exhausting them.

7. Prolonging with it the drought of nights to fertilize them,
And with it the hardship of labor to give birth.

8. And with it came from the east a flood,
Clouds to borrow the setting sun's light.

9. Erecting with it towering ideals upon it,
Purifying it in “the twenties” as an experienced elder.

10. And he stretched out his arms to embrace a nation
That grew up in dreams counting itself on him.

11. And from his ambitions arose, so the nations of ambitions
Seemed small in his eyes, every request humbled.

12. You were blessed, oh leaders of “the Ba’ath”, with prey
That straightens the pace of the hunt, and overcomes.

13. And a gleam from the shining “letter” directs you
With a more fragrant direction than the clouds, and sweeter.

14. And the echoes of “basil” whose soul exuded its fragrance,
And with it the garden of “the poem” flourished and grew green.

15. Greetings from one who entrusted his conscience with goodness,
And charged it with the honesty of loyalty and devotion.

16. You were seasoned with wisdom, leaving no
Young arena except that you made it an arena.

17. You confronted the prominent, and were confronted by them,
And did not ask who would be the defeated.

18. And you inherited “fifty-seven” and did not smear
With anything but the blood of martyrs a guiding star.

19. And you were burdened with two loads, justice and injustice,
And neither knew which was more difficult.

20. And you walked with “July” on a path that tripped up
Memories ― how bitter and how sweet!

21. And you endured “five” whose sorrows,
And “five” with what you carried ― how wondrous!

22. They clashed with history until pages were confused
Over how to be dictated and written.

23. And the sincere narrators were perplexed and there was
No way for a person to believe except by lying.

24. The tyrants were overthrown, and were rolled up
Upon the necks of those who shook and terrified the tyrants.

25. And it tolled the bells of salvation, so it blocked
Those who called for the day of salvation and brought it closer.

26. And it changed an inferior epoch for a new one,
Though the new one distorted the face and made it hunchbacked.

27. And with it grudges boiled, in cowardice, betrayal,
Vileness, recklessness, and heated partisanship.

28. And soft skins showed their cores, so they were
“Hyenas”, hungry “wolves”.

29. And “prisons” clamored with a mishmash of dissidents
As a “hostel” crowds with estranged lodgers.

30. They met in confusion and immorality,
As the darkness of night gropes about destroying.

31. And there appeared to “July” visions of a single mother
Who had surrendered him to the midwives to be crucified.

32. And an uncle was heedless of the wanton ones leading him,
While an aware one avoided his share, so he escaped.

33. And one who never knew “the monastery” his whole life
“Sufi-fied”, when abandonment made him a monk.

34. And a steadfast one drank the cup of death with patience,
Emptying from its veins whatever settled.

35. And you slept on the embers of rage, cradling them
In “zero hour”, fearing they would slip away.

36. And you ventured: death is like an aim ―
The plains of glory are fit to be sought out.

37. Never did the like of it flutter upon a hearing
Of whoever loved or assumed authority.

38. All people came together over it, leaving no
Home whose ropes were not pulled and ropes pulled.

39. And it rang out, though the tongues were tired, consciences
That overflow upon the cheeks of faces to Arabize them.

40. You turned after a curse had almost
Veered away from the deceits of dreams.

41. And you unleashed from it abundant springs
Of generosity, leaving no past spring for it.

42. And you revived in it the visions of “tomorrow” after
“A setting vulture” had carried away what it granted.

43. And you brought a fiery, defiant “July”
That regrets what is past, angry at what was lost.

44. So it unveiled “ten” whose glow was like the dawn
Breaking the night that had prolonged its darkness.

45. The dawn except a cloud, then scattering,
And ashes, then scattered by the winds.

46. You uncovered with it what gloom had covered of its face,
And straightened what rigidity had hardened of its trunk.

47. And you replaced those losses with gain,
And those failures with profit.

48. And you poured heart into heart, so it flourished,
And bent the stubborn and forced the unwilling, so they companied.

49. And you said: Good tidings to “Zab” and “Tigris”,
And to the palm tree and olive tree: Greetings and welcome!

50. And you freed thousands, so that the affliction
Of oppressive prisons rose above them and was rectified.

51. And you involved in the rule of a beloved “party”
A trusted brother “party”, intimate and beloved.

52. Oh father of “Haytham”, who expanded people's dreams
So its shade covered them and they huddled.

53. And oh son of the magnificent “Hussein”, bold and lion-like,
Awe-inspiring, a mountain before he could be moved.

54. And oh match of “the two armies”, a drop, and a nation
Who grew from their glory what branched out.

55. A candid call that avoided arrogance in itself
Though it poured with glories, admiring.

56. It chose the love of people and goodness as a creed,
And distributed its spirit among them, so it branched out.

57. The sweetness of your rhetoric led odes
Of such charm, they almost flowed to be drunk.

58. You licked away filth as a morning breeze licked
The drops of dew, so they melted away.

59. Armies of chosen rows that came together
While you were upon a “colonizer”, and came together.

60. And they and you remained for thirty argumentations
Raiding the enemy, striking him.

61. And you both refused to leave a tail for your hands
Until you cut off the tail of the one with a tail.

62. Their tyranny overtook them, and they were tortured
With the whips of “torturers” tortured by you.

63. And the harm that afflicted you afflicted them,
And they endured as you endured the harm head on.

64. And their loved ones roamed the length and breadth of the countries,
Traveling east and west.

65. Your arms on the day of struggle and your heroism
When an arm tried and became courageous.

66. And between you two, as yesterday for the meeting place, tomorrow remains
Nearer to an hour and closer.

67. And the brave miss their armor
Even if they do not fight, fearing to be stripped.

68. So do not take them in languor and her sister,
For who has not recognized a flaw in it?

69. And who is it that repelled sins, aloof,
And overcame humanity in “their clay” and its wetness?

70. It is enough for the youth that his languor
Overcomes his discipline, until he returns disciplined.

71. And a people's good friend is one who, if
Reasons between them and him were severed one day,

72. Caused them pain for the sake of devotion alone,
Not blaming, or finding fault, but gently scolding.

73. So do not abandon a “close ally” among them,
Nor gloat over them and yourselves, kept safe.

74. Bring “July” to cast its hearts
Upon love, a “peacock” beautifully spreading its tail.

75. And add to what your efforts have colored of its beauty
A color from goodness, saturated.

76. Oh “July holiday”, eternal glory to you,
You remain a question for the masses, and a sanctuary.

77. Neither have incidentals weighed you down with their burden,
Nor have they shaken your solid pillar.

78. Nor have unworthy palms disturbed the sweet spring,
Nor muddled its clear drinking place.

79. The plains of the “two rivers” have taken refuge in you, and never
After this day have your banks become death's playground.

80. Nor have you become a rubbish heap, a procession
Colliding with its rubbish, corpses with corpses.

81. Nor from you have the houses darkened, nor has
A “bent” dagger ignited there, or divorces blazed.

82. O father of poetry, say what delights the son and father,
And what else can you say to please them both?