يَوَدُّ الفتى لوْ خاضَ عاصِفَةَ الرَّدَى

يَوَدُّ الفتى لوْ خاضَ عاصِفَةَ الرَّدَى

وصَدَّ الخميسَ المَجْرَ والأَسَدَ الوَرْدا

وصَدَّ الخميسَ المَجْرَ والأَسَدَ الوَرْدا

The young man wishes he could plunge into the storm of death

The youth wishes he could brave the storm of turmoil,

The youth yearns to wade through the tempest of doom,

And repel the vast army and the tawny lion,

And block the fierce lion and the Thursday's evil eye,

And repel the vast legions and the tawny lion,

ليُدْرِكَ أَمجادَ الحُروبِ ولوْ دَرَى

ليُدْرِكَ أَمجادَ الحُروبِ ولوْ دَرَى

حقيقَتَها مَا رامَ مِنْ بيْنها مَجْدا

حقيقَتَها مَا رامَ مِنْ بيْنها مَجْدا

To win the glories of war; but if he knew

To attain the glories of war, though if he knew,

To attain the honors of war; yet had he known

Its true nature, he would seek no glory in it.

Its reality, he wouldn't seek glory through it.

Its truth, he would not have sought glory in its midst.

فما المجدُ في أنْ تُسْكِرَ الأَرضَ بالدِّما

فما المجدُ في أنْ تُسْكِرَ الأَرضَ بالدِّما

وتَرْكَبَ في هَيْجَائها فرساً نهْدا

وتَرْكَبَ في هَيْجَائها فرساً نهْدا

For glory lies not in making the earth drunk with blood,

For glory lies not in intoxicating the land with blood,

For glory lies not in making the earth drunk with blood,

And riding a mighty steed amid its battle-fury;

Or riding through its excitement a roaring steed.

Nor in mounting a high steed amidst the fray,

ولكنَّهُ في أَنْ تَصُدَّ بِهمَّةٍ

ولكنَّهُ في أَنْ تَصُدَّ بِهمَّةٍ

عَن العالمِ المرْزُوءِ فيْضَ الأَسى صَدَّا

عَن العالمِ المرْزُوءِ فيْضَ الأَسى صَدَّا

But it lies in resolutely warding off

Rather, it is to repel with determination,

But rather in turning back, with noble resolve,

The flood of sorrow from the stricken world.

The overflow of sorrows in the wretched world like a dam.

The flood of sorrow from a world struck by woe.