موتُ الكرامِ حيَاةٌ فِي مواطنِهمْ

موتُ الكرامِ حيَاةٌ فِي مواطنِهمْ

فإِنْ هُم اِغتربوا ماتوا وما ماتُوا

فإِنْ هُم اِغتربوا ماتوا وما ماتُوا

The death of the noble is life in their homelands.

The death of the noble is life in their dwellings

The death of the noble is life within their homelands, / but if they are exiled, they die even while yet alive.

But if they go into exile, they die without dying.

If they are exiled, they die though they live

O people of my affection, no, by God! My vows remain unbroken, / nor has my love for you ever grown confined.

يا أهلَ ودِّيَ لا واللهِ ما اِنتكثَتْ

يا أهلَ ودِّيَ لا واللهِ ما اِنتكثَتْ

عندِي عُهودٌ ولا ضاقَتْ مودَّاتُ

عندِي عُهودٌ ولا ضاقَتْ مودَّاتُ

O those I love—no, by God, unbroken remain

O people of my love! No, by Allah, my pacts have not been severed

Though you are far, and the sea stands between us, / yet between our souls, in sleep, there are visits.

My pledges, and undiminished my affections.

I have covenants and affections have not narrowed

I sleep only in hope of meeting your phantom, / but where can one exiled from his homeland find true sleep?

لئِنْ بعُدْتُمْ وحالَ البَحْرُ دونَكُمُ

لئِنْ بعُدْتُمْ وحالَ البَحْرُ دونَكُمُ

لبَيْنَ أرواحِنا في النَّومِ زَوْرَاتُ

لبَيْنَ أرواحِنا في النَّومِ زَوْرَاتُ

Though you are far away and the sea bars the way to you,

If you are far, though the sea lies between us

When sickness strikes, we seek solace in your memory, / if only such solace could truly cure our ailments.

Our souls surely visit one another in sleep.

Our souls meet in dreams, in nightly visitations

What harm would befall the wind if it bore its greeting / to you, just as greetings are meant to be conveyed?

مَا نِمْتُ إلّا لكي أَلْقَى خيالكُمُ

مَا نِمْتُ إلّا لكي أَلْقَى خيالكُمُ

وأينَ من نازح الأوطانِ نوماتُ

وأينَ من نازح الأوطانِ نوماتُ

I sleep only to meet your image.

I sleep not, but to meet your image

In my exile, were it not for my concealing silence, / the very earth and heavens would have wept for me.

But where is sleep for one far from his homeland?

Where can sleep be for the expatriate in strange lands?

It is as if I never tasted the harvest in Qayrawan, / nor exchanged gifts with my beloveds, saying 'Here' and 'Give'.

إِذَا اِعتَللنا تعلَّلنا بذِكرِكمُ

إِذَا اِعتَللنا تعلَّلنا بذِكرِكمُ

لو أحسنَت بُرءَ عِلّاتٍ تَعِلّاتُ

لو أحسنَت بُرءَ عِلّاتٍ تَعِلّاتُ

When we fall ill, we console ourselves by remembering you—

When we are ill, it is thoughts of you that make us ill

As if I was never captivated by red cheeks against white skin, / nor by those languid, enchanting Babylonian eyes.

If only consolations knew how to cure ailments.

Were an illness to recover, it would relapse again

After those bright, white days of ours that have passed, / can any morning or evening ever please me again?

ماذا على الرِّيح لو أَهْدَتْ تحيّتَها

ماذا على الرِّيح لو أَهْدَتْ تحيّتَها

إليكمُ مِثْلَ ما تُهْدَى التحيَّاتُ

إليكمُ مِثْلَ ما تُهْدَى التحيَّاتُ

What would it cost the wind to offer its greeting

What use sending greetings on the wind?

I pass by the sea, gazing longingly toward a land, / while my soul perishes, still harboring needs within it.

To you, just as greetings are offered?

Greetings are best conveyed in person

I ask the ships for news of it in desperate hope, / then turn away, my heart burning with anguish.

أَصبحتُ فِي غُرْبتِي لولا مُكاتمتِي

أَصبحتُ فِي غُرْبتِي لولا مُكاتمتِي

بَكَتْنِيَ الأرضُ فيها والسماواتُ

بَكَتْنِيَ الأرضُ فيها والسماواتُ

Such is my state in exile that, had I not kept it hidden,

In my exile, if I did not restrain my tears

Is there a message from a beloved to aid me / against my sickness? For truly, letters can bring a cure.

The earth there and the heavens would have wept for me.

Earth and sky would weep for me

May God water the land of Qayrawan with rain, / as abundant as my own pouring tears.

كأَنَّني لم أذُق بالقيرَوانِ جَنىً

كأَنَّني لم أذُق بالقيرَوانِ جَنىً

ولم أقلْ ها لأحبابي ولا هَاتوا

ولم أقلْ ها لأحبابي ولا هَاتوا

As though I had never tasted fruit in Kairouan,

As if I'd never tasted fruit in al-Qayrawan

For she is the sister of Paradise; her very soil / is scented musk, and her pebbles are precious gems.

Nor said to my loved ones, 'Take this,' or 'Give!'

Or called to friends “Come!” or “Here!”

If her hills hold no blooming, untouched gardens, / then surely the faces of my loved ones are gardens enough.

ولم تَشُقْنِي الخدُودُ الحُمْرُ في يَققٍ

ولم تَشُقْنِي الخدُودُ الحُمْرُ في يَققٍ

ولا العُيونُ المِرَاضُ البابِليَّاتُ

ولا العُيونُ المِرَاضُ البابِليَّاتُ

Nor had red cheeks amid pure whiteness stirred my longing,

As if cheeks flushed red in Jaquq

And if no sweet river flows through her lands, / then her rivers are the generous hands of her people.

Nor languid, Babylonian eyes.

And the doe-eyed beauties of Babel never pierced me

A fertile land with blessed regions; / within her, God has placed proofs and miraculous signs.

أَبَعدَ أيّامِنا البِيضِ الّتِي سَلَفَتْ

أَبَعدَ أيّامِنا البِيضِ الّتِي سَلَفَتْ

ترُوقُنِي غَدَواتٌ أو عَشِيَّاتُ

ترُوقُنِي غَدَواتٌ أو عَشِيَّاتُ

After our bright days that have passed,

After our bright days of old

Let no enemy gloat if she is struck by calamity, / for even the sun must suffer the times of an eclipse.

Can mornings or evenings delight me?

Do dawns and dusks delight me?

The One who holds the world and extends it never ceases / to erase or confirm whatever He wills.

أمُرُّ بالبَحْرِ مُرْتَاحاً إلى بَلَدٍ

أمُرُّ بالبَحْرِ مُرْتَاحاً إلى بَلَدٍ

تَموتُ نفسي وفيها منه حاجاتُ

تَموتُ نفسي وفيها منه حاجاتُ

I pass by the sea, yearning for a land;

I pass the sea at ease, to lands

Is there any hope that Qayrawan will be returned to us, / along with Sabra, al-Mu‘alla, and al-Haniyyat?

My soul dies, still harboring desires for it.

Where my soul dies, needing things found only there

No sooner does the night settle than my sorrow deepens, / and my deep sighs are followed by moans of pain.

وأَسأَلُ السُّفْنَ عن أخبارهِ طَمَعاً

وأَسأَلُ السُّفْنَ عن أخبارهِ طَمَعاً

وأنْثَنِي وبقَلبي منه لَوْعَاتُ

وأنْثَنِي وبقَلبي منه لَوْعَاتُ

And I ask the ships for news of it, in hope,

I ask ships for news, hoping

Nor do I breathe the scent of gardens in the morning light, / without my hidden sorrows revealing themselves.

And turn back with pangs of longing for it in my heart.

I curve in pain, my entrails twisted

This grief is not for the hills of Rabab, / nor do memories of Lubna pursue my heart.

هل من رسالةِ حِبٍّ أستعينُ بها

هل من رسالةِ حِبٍّ أستعينُ بها

على سقامِي فقد تَشفي الرِّسالاتُ

على سقامِي فقد تَشفي الرِّسالاتُ

Is there a letter from a loved one that might help me

Is there no letter of love on which I might lean

How often have I been called to a garden that renewed my pain, / though it was meant to offer consolation.

Against my sickness? For letters can heal.

And cure my sickness, for letters can heal the sick

If you could see me when its nightingales sing; / I complain of my sorrows—if only complaints could avail.

أَلا سَقَى اللهُ أرضَ القيروان حَياً

أَلا سَقَى اللهُ أرضَ القيروان حَياً

كأنَّه عَبَراتِي المُستهلّاتُ

كأنَّه عَبَراتِي المُستهلّاتُ

Oh, may God water the land of Kairouan with life-giving rain,

May God water the land of al-Qayrawan with life

I thirst though rivers flow all around me, / and I burn in the sun though shady trees stand near.

As though it were my streaming tears.

As if with my streaming tears

I see nothing but Death stretching out his hand, / before the captive can find a way to escape.

فإِنَّها لِدَةُ الجَنَّاتِ تُرْبَتُها

فإِنَّها لِدَةُ الجَنَّاتِ تُرْبَتُها

مِسْكِيَّةٌ وحَصاها جَوهرِيّاتُ

مِسْكِيَّةٌ وحَصاها جَوهرِيّاتُ

For it is the twin of Paradise's gardens; its soil

For it is a slice of Eden, its soil

Is musk-scented, and its pebbles are gems.

Musk-scented, its pebbles like gems

إِلّا تَكُن فِي رُباهَا روضةٌ أُنُفٌ

إِلّا تَكُن فِي رُباهَا روضةٌ أُنُفٌ

فإِنَّما أوجهُ الأحباب روْضَاتُ

فإِنَّما أوجهُ الأحباب روْضَاتُ

If no untouched garden lies upon its hills,

Unless it holds a garden grove

Then the faces of loved ones are its gardens.

For lovers’ trysts are in gardens

أوْ لا يَكُنْ نهر عذبٌ يسيلُ بها

أوْ لا يَكُنْ نهر عذبٌ يسيلُ بها

فإِنَّ أنهارَها أَيْدٍ كريماتُ

فإِنَّ أنهارَها أَيْدٍ كريماتُ

Or if no river of sweet water flows through it,

Unless a sweet stream flows through it

Then its rivers are generous hands.

For its rivers are generous hands

أَرضٌ أَريضة أَقطارٍ مباركةٍ

أَرضٌ أَريضة أَقطارٍ مباركةٍ

للّه فيها براهينٌ وآياتُ

للّه فيها براهينٌ وآياتُ

A fertile land with blessed regions,

A gentle land, of blessed regions

In it are God's proofs and signs.

With God's proofs and signs upon it

لاَ يَشمتَنَّ بها الأعْداءُ إِن رُزِئتْ

لاَ يَشمتَنَّ بها الأعْداءُ إِن رُزِئتْ

إنَّ الكُسُوفَ له في الشمس أَوْقاتُ

إنَّ الكُسُوفَ له في الشمس أَوْقاتُ

Let the enemies never gloat over it if calamity strikes;

Let not the foe gloat should it be shamed

For even the sun has times of eclipse.

For the eclipse too has its time upon the sun

ولم يَزَلْ قابضُ الدُّنيا وباسِطها

ولم يَزَلْ قابضُ الدُّنيا وباسِطها

فيما يشاء له مَحْوٌ وإِثْباتُ

فيما يشاء له مَحْوٌ وإِثْباتُ

And He who contracts the world and expands it has always

The Installer and Remover of all things

Had power to erase and establish whatever He wills.

Annuls and affirms as He wills

هل مطمعٌ أن تُرَدَّ القيروانُ لنا

هل مطمعٌ أن تُرَدَّ القيروانُ لنا

وصَبْرَةٌ والمعلّى فالحنيّاتُ

وصَبْرَةٌ والمعلّى فالحنيّاتُ

Is there any hope that Kairouan may be restored to us,

Can we hope al-Qayrawan will be ours again?

And Sabra, and al-Mu‘alla, then al-Haniyyat?

With Sbibra and M'lili and Hunayn?

ما إن سجا اللّيلُ إلّا زادَني شَجَناً

ما إن سجا اللّيلُ إلّا زادَني شَجَناً

فأتبعَتْ زَفراتي فيه أنَّاتُ

فأتبعَتْ زَفراتي فيه أنَّاتُ

Never did night grow still without adding to my sorrow;

No sooner does night fall than my longing grows

Then groans followed my sighs through the night.

My sighs turn to moans in its dark

ولا تنَفَّسْتُ أنْفاً فِي الرِّياضِ ضُحىً

ولا تنَفَّسْتُ أنْفاً فِي الرِّياضِ ضُحىً

إِلّا بدَتْ حَسَراتي المستكنَّاتُ

إِلّا بدَتْ حَسَراتي المستكنَّاتُ

Nor did I take a fresh breath in the gardens at forenoon

I cannot breathe the dawn air in gardens

Without my hidden regrets appearing.

But my suppressed anguish rises

هذا ولم تشْجُ قْلبِي للرَّبابِ رُبىً

هذا ولم تشْجُ قْلبِي للرَّبابِ رُبىً

وَلا تَقَصَّتْهُ من لُبْنَى لُباناتُ

وَلا تَقَصَّتْهُ من لُبْنَى لُباناتُ

All this, though no hills have grieved my heart for al-Rabab,

This, though the lute never stirred my heart to song

Nor have longings for Lubna pursued it.

Nor the pipes of Labana soothed it

وكم دُعِيتُ لبُستانٍ فجدَّد لي

وكم دُعِيتُ لبُستانٍ فجدَّد لي

وَجْداً وإن كان في مَعناه سَلْوَاتُ

وَجْداً وإن كان في مَعناه سَلْوَاتُ

How often I was invited to a garden, and it renewed for me

How often called to a garden, it renews my pain

Longing, though its nature offered consolations.

Though it offers joy, when joy is torment

ولو تَرانِي إذا غَنَّتْ بَلابِلُهُ

ولو تَرانِي إذا غَنَّتْ بَلابِلُهُ

أشكُو البلابلَ لو تُغْني الشَّكِيَّاتُ

أشكُو البلابلَ لو تُغْني الشَّكِيَّاتُ

If only you could see me when its nightingales sing:

Could you but see me when its nightingales sing

I lament my troubles—if only complaints could help!

I complain to the nightingales - if complaining helped

إِنّي لأَظْمَأُ والأنْهارُ جارِيةٌ

إِنّي لأَظْمَأُ والأنْهارُ جارِيةٌ

حَولي وأُضْحي ودُونَ الشَّمس دَوْحَاتُ

حَولي وأُضْحي ودُونَ الشَّمس دَوْحَاتُ

Indeed I thirst, though rivers flow

Lo! I thirst, though rivers run around me

Around me, and I stand in the sun though great trees screen it.

And I sacrifice, with suns circling below

وما أرَى الموتَ إلّا باسطاً يدَهُ

وما أرَى الموتَ إلّا باسطاً يدَهُ

مِن قبْلِ أن يُمْكِنَ المأسور إفْلاَتُ

مِن قبْلِ أن يُمْكِنَ المأسور إفْلاَتُ

And I see Death only stretching out his hand

I see only death extending its hand

Before escape becomes possible for the captive.

To free the prisoner before escape is possible