1. أَيُّها الشَّعْبُ ليتني كنتُ حطَّاباً

    فأهوي على الجذوعِ بفأسي

    O people, if only I were a woodcutter,

    Then I would strike the trunks with my axe.

  2. ليتني كنتُ كالسُّيولِ إِذا سالتْ

    تَهُدُّ القبورَ رمساً برمسِ

    If only I were like torrents when they flow,

    Demolishing graves, tomb by tomb.

  3. ليتني كنتُ كالرِّياحِ فأطوي

    كلَّ مَا يخنقُ الزُّهُورَ بنحسي

    If only I were like the winds, sweeping away

    With my blight, all that chokes the flowers.

  4. ليتني كنتُ كالشِّتاءِ أُغَشِّي

    كلّ مَا أَذْبَلَ الخريفُ بقرسي

    If only I were like winter, covering

    With my frost all that autumn has withered.

  5. ليتَ لي قوَّةَ العواصفِ يا شعبي

    فأَلقي إليكَ ثَوْرَةَ نفسي

    If only I had the strength of storms, my people,

    So I could cast upon you my soul's revolt.

  6. ليتَ لي قوَّةَ الأَعاصيرِ إنْ ضجَّتْ

    فأدعوكَ للحياةِ بنبسي

    If only I had the strength of hurricanes when they roar,

    To call you to life with my voice.

  7. ليتَ لي قوَّةَ الأَعاصير لكن

    أَنْتَ حيٌّ يقضي الحَيَاة برمسِ

    If only I had the strength of hurricanes—but

    You are a living being spending life in a tomb.

  8. أَنْتَ روحٌ غَبِيَّةٌ تكره النُّور

    وتقضي الدُّهُور في ليل مَلْسِ

    You are a foolish soul that hates the light,

    And spends the ages in a pitch-black night.

  9. أَنْتَ لا تدركُ الحقائقَ إن طافتْ

    حواليكَ دون مسٍّ وجَبَّسِ

    You do not grasp truths, even if they circle

    Around you, without touch and feeling by hand.

  10. في صباحِ الحَيَاةِ ضَمَّخْتُ أَكوابي

    وأَترعتُها بخمرَةِ نفسي

    In the morning of life, I perfumed my cups,

    And filled them to the brim with the wine of my soul.

  11. ثمَّ قَدَّمْتُها إليكَ فأَهرقْتَ

    رحيقي ودُستَ يا شعبُ كأسي

    Then I offered them to you, but you spilled

    My nectar and trampled my cup, O people.

  12. فتأَلَّمتُ ثمَّ أسْكَتُّ آلامي

    وكَفْكَفْتُ من شعوري وحسّي

    So I suffered, then silenced my pain,

    And restrained my feeling and sensibility.

  13. ثمَّ نَضَّدْتُ من أَزاهيرِ قلبي

    باقةً لمْ يمسَّها أيُّ إنْسِي

    Then, from the blossoms of my heart, I arranged

    A bouquet that no human being had touched.

  14. ثمَّ قَدَّْمتُها إليكَ فمزَّقْتَ

    ورودي ودُسْتَهَا أَيَّ دَوْسِ

    Then I offered it to you, but you tore apart

    My roses and trampled them utterly.

  15. ثمَّ أَلبسْتَني منَ الحُزْنِ ثوباً

    وبِشَوكِ الجبالِ تَوَّجْتَ رأسي

    Then you clothed me in a garment of sorrow,

    And crowned my head with the thorns of the mountains.

  16. إنَّني ذاهبٌ إلى الغابِ يا شعبي

    لأقضي الحَيَاةَ وحدي بيأسِ

    I am going to the forest, my people,

    To spend my life alone in despair.

  17. إنَّني ذاهبٌ إلى الغابِ علِّي

    في صميم الغاباتِ أَدفنُ بؤسي

    I am going to the forest; perhaps

    In the heart of the woods I may bury my misery.

  18. ثم أنساك ما استطعت فما أنت

    بأهل لخمرتي ولكأسي

    Then forget you as much as I can, for you are not

    Worthy of my wine and my cup.

  19. سوف أَتلو على الطُّيور أَناشيدي

    وأُفضِي لها بأشواقِ نفسي

    I shall recite my songs to the birds,

    And confide to them the longings of my soul.

  20. فَهْي تدري معنى الحَيَاة وتدري

    أنَّ مجدَ النُّفوسِ يَقْظَةُ حِسِّ

    For they know the meaning of life, and know

    That the glory of souls is the awakening of feeling.

  21. ثمَّ أقضي هناكَ في ظلمةِ اللَّيل

    وأُلقي إلى الوُجُودِ بيأسي

    Then I shall die there in the darkness of night,

    And cast my despair into existence.

  22. ثمَّ تحتَ الصّنَوْبَر النَّاضر الحلو

    تَخُطُّ السَّيولُ حُفْرَةَ رمسي

    Then beneath the sweet, verdant pines,

    The torrents will carve the hollow of my grave.

  23. وتظَلُّ الطُّيورُ تلغو على قَبْرِيَ

    ويشدو النَّسيمُ فوقي بهمسِ

    And the birds will keep chattering upon my grave,

    And the breeze will sing above me in a whisper.

  24. وتظلُّ الفُصولُ تمشي حوالَيَّ

    كما كُنَّ في غَضَارَةِ أَمسي

    And the seasons will keep passing around me,

    As they did in the bloom of my yesterday.

  25. أَيُّها الشَّعْبُ أَنْتَ طِفْلٌ صغيرٌ

    لاعبٌ بالتُّرابِ والليلُ مُغْسِ

    O people, you are a little child,

    Playing with dust while night grows dark.

  26. أَنْتَ في الكونِ قوَّةً لو تَسُسْها

    فكرةٌ عبقريَّةٌ ذاتُ بأسِ

    You are a force in the universe—if only it were guided

    By a brilliant idea endowed with might.

  27. أَنْتَ في الكونِ قوَّةً كبَّلتْها

    ظُلُماتُ العُصور مِنْ أمس أمسِ

    You are a force in the universe, shackled

    By the darkness of ages, since yesterday's yesterday.

  28. والشقيُّ الشقيُّ من كانَ مثلي

    في حَسَاسِيَّتي ورقَّةِ نفسي

    And wretched, truly wretched, is whoever is like me

    In my sensitivity and the tenderness of my soul.

  29. هكذا قالَ شاعرٌ ناولَ النَّاسَ

    رحيقَ الحَيَاةِ في خيرِ كأسِ

    Thus spoke a poet who offered people

    The nectar of life in the finest cup.

  30. فأَشاحوا عنها ومرُّوا غضاباً

    واستخفُّوا به وقالوا بيأْسِ

    But they turned away from it and passed by in anger,

    And scorned him and said in despair:

  31. قَدْ أَضاعَ الرَّشادَ في ملعبِ الجِنِّ

    فيا بؤسَهُ أُصيبَ بمَسِّ

    “He has lost his good sense in the playground of the jinn;

    So alas for him—he has been possessed!

  32. طالما خاطَبَ العواطفَ في اللَّيلِ

    وناجى الأَمواتَ مِنْ كلِّ جِنْسِ

    How often he addressed the emotions at night,

    And communed with the dead of every kind.

  33. طالما رافق الظلام إلى الغاب

    ونادى الأرواح من كل جنس

    How often he accompanied darkness into the forest,

    And called upon spirits of every kind.

  34. طالما حدَّثَ الشياطين في الوادي

    وغنَّى مع الرِّياح بجَرْسِ

    How often he spoke with devils in the valley,

    And sang with the winds in ringing tones.

  35. إنَّه ساحرٌ تُعَلِّمُهُ السِّحْرُ

    الشياطينُ كلَّ مَطْلعِ شَمْسِ

    He is a sorcerer, taught magic

    By devils at every sunrise.

  36. فابعِدوا الكافرَ الخبيثَ عن الهيكلِ

    إنَّ الخَبيثَ منبعُ رِجْسِ

    So drive the vile unbeliever away from the temple;

    Indeed, the vile one is a source of defilement.

  37. اطردوه ولا تُصيخوا إليه

    فهو روحٌ شريرةٌ ذاتُ نحْسِ

    Drive him out, and do not listen to him,

    For he is an evil spirit bearing ill fortune.”

  38. هكذا قالَ شاعرٌ فيلسوفٌ

    عاشَ في شعبهِ الغبيِّ بتَعْسِ

    Thus spoke a poet and philosopher,

    Who lived in misery among his foolish people.

  39. جَهِلَ النَّاسُ روحَهُ وأغانيها

    فَسَاموا شعورَهُ سوْمَ بَخْسِ

    The people did not understand his soul and its songs,

    So they valued his feeling at a paltry price.

  40. فهو في مذهبِ الحَيَاةِ نبيٌّ

    وهو في شعبِهِ مُصابٌ بمسِّ

    For in the creed of life he is a prophet,

    Yet among his people he is taken for one possessed.

  41. هكذا قالَ ثمَّ سارَ إلى الغابِ

    ليحيا حياةَ شِعْرٍ وقُدْسِ

    Thus he spoke, then went to the forest

    To live a life of poetry and holiness.

  42. وبعيداً هناكَ في معبد الغاب

    الَّذي لا يُظِلُّهُ أَيُّ بؤْسِ

    And far away, there in the forest's temple,

    Which no misery overshadows,

  43. في ظلال الصَّنَوْبَرِ الحلوِ والزَّيتونِ

    يقضي الحياة حَرْساً بحرْسِ

    In the shade of sweet pines and olive trees,

    He spends his life, one span after another.

  44. في الصَّباحِ الجميل يشدو مع الطَّيرِ

    ويَمْشي في نشوةِ المُتَحَسِّي

    In the lovely morning he sings with the birds,

    And walks in a drinker's rapture,

  45. نافخاً نايَهُ حواليْهِ تهتزُّ

    ورودُ الرَّبيعِ مِنْ كلِّ قنْسِ

    Blowing his flute; around him sway

    Spring's roses, of every kind.

  46. شَعْرُهُ مُرْسَلٌ تُداعِبُهُ الرِّيحُ

    على منكبيْه مثلَ الدُّمُقْسِ

    His hair hangs loose, caressed by the wind,

    Upon his shoulders, like silk.

  47. والطُّيورُ الطِّرابُ تشدو حواليه

    وتلغو في الدَّوحِ مِنْ كلِّ جنْسِ

    And the joyful birds sing all around him,

    And chatter in the great trees, of every kind.

  48. وتراهُ عند الأصيلِ لدى الجدول

    يرنو للطَّائرِ المتحسِّي

    And you see him in late afternoon beside the brook,

    Gazing at the bird as it sips.

  49. أَو يغنِّي بَيْنَ الصَّنَوْبَرِ أَو يرنو

    إلى سُدْفَةِ الظَّلامِ المُمَسِّي

    Or he sings among the pines, or gazes

    Toward the dusk of the evening darkness.

  50. فإذا أَقْبَلَ الظَّلامُ وأَمستْ

    ظلماتُ الوُجُود في الأَرضِ تُغسي

    And when darkness comes and, at evening,

    The shadows of existence deepen over the earth,

  51. كانَ في كوخه الجميل مقيماً

    يَسْأَلُ الكونَ في خشوعٍ وهَمْسِ

    He stays in his beautiful hut,

    Questioning the universe in reverence and whispers

  52. عن مصبِّ الحَيَاةِ أَيْنَ مَداهُ

    وصميمِ الوُجُودِ أَيَّان يُرسي

    About life's estuary—where its furthest reach lies,

    And the heart of existence—when it comes to anchor;

  53. وأَريجِ الورودِ في كلِّ وادٍ

    ونَشيدِ الطُّيورِ حين تمسِّي

    And the fragrance of roses in every valley,

    And the song of birds when evening comes,

  54. وهزيمِ الرِّياح في كلِّ فَجٍّ

    ورُسُومِ الحَيَاةِ من أمس أمْسِ

    And the roar of winds in every mountain pass,

    And life's traces from yesterday's yesterday;

  55. وأغاني الرُّعاة أَيْنَ يُواريها

    سُكُونُ الفَضا وأَيَّانَ تُمْسي

    And shepherds' songs—where they are hidden

    By the stillness of space, and when they pass into evening.

  56. هكذا يَصْرِفُ الحَيَاةَ ويُفْني

    حَلَقَاتِ السِّنينِ حَرْساً بحَرْسِ

    Thus he spends his life and exhausts

    The cycles of years, one span after another.

  57. يا لها مِنْ معيشةٍ في صميمِ الغابِ

    تُضْحي بَيْنَ الطُّيورِ وتُمْسي

    Oh, what a life in the heart of the forest,

    With mornings and evenings spent among birds!

  58. يا لها مِنْ معيشةٍ لم تُدَنّسْهَا

    نفوسُ الوَرَى بخُبْثٍ ورِجْسِ

    Oh, what a life, never defiled

    By human souls with malice and defilement!

  59. يا لها مِنْ معيشةٍ هيَ في الكونِ

    حياةٌ غريبةٌ ذاتُ قُدْسِ

    Oh, what a life—in the universe it is

    A strange life endowed with holiness!