كانَ في قلبيَ فَجْرٌ ونُجُومْ

كانَ في قلبيَ فَجْرٌ ونُجُومْ

وبِحارٌ لا تُغَشِّيها الغُيُومْ

وبِحارٌ لا تُغَشِّيها الغُيُومْ

There were dawn and stars in my heart,

There was a dawn and stars in my heart,

Once, deep within my heart, were dawn and stars,

And seas that clouds did not shroud,

And seas no clouds would veil,

And boundless seas unshadowed by the clouds,

وأَناشيدٌ وأَطْيارٌ تَحُومْ

وأَناشيدٌ وأَطْيارٌ تَحُومْ

وَرَبيعٌ مُشْرِقٌ حُلْوٌ جَميلْ

وَرَبيعٌ مُشْرِقٌ حُلْوٌ جَميلْ

And songs and circling birds,

And songs and hovering birds,

And soaring birds, and hymns of joy afar,

And a radiant spring, sweet and beautiful.

And a shining, sweet, beautiful spring.

And radiant spring, sweet and beautiful.

كانَ في قلبيَ صَبَاحٌ وإياهْ

كانَ في قلبيَ صَبَاحٌ وإياهْ

وابتِساماتٌ ولكنْ واأَسَاهْ

وابتِساماتٌ ولكنْ واأَسَاهْ

There were morning and its radiance in my heart,

There was a morning in my heart, and it -

There was a morning in my heart, and light,

And smiles—and yet, oh, the sorrow!

And smiles, but alas, the tempest of life:

And gentle smiles—but oh, the tragedy!

آه مَا أَهولَ إعْصَارَ الحياهْ

آه مَا أَهولَ إعْصَارَ الحياهْ

آه مَا أَشقى قُلُوبَ النَّاسِ آه

آه مَا أَشقى قُلُوبَ النَّاسِ آه

Ah, how terrifying life's hurricane is!

Oh, how wretched are people's hearts!

Ah, how terrifying is the hurricane of life,

Ah, how wretched people's hearts are—ah!

There was a dawn and stars in my heart,

Ah, how wretched are the hearts of men, ah me!

كانَ في قلبيَ فجرٌ ونجومْ

كانَ في قلبيَ فجرٌ ونجومْ

فإذا الكلُّ ظلامٌ وسَدِيمْ

فإذا الكلُّ ظلامٌ وسَدِيمْ

There were dawn and stars in my heart,

And now all is darkness and mist.

Once, deep within my heart, were dawn and stars,

Then, behold, all was darkness and haze.

There was a dawn and stars in my heart -

But now, all is darkness and gray mist,

كانَ في قلبيَ فجرٌ ونُجومْ

كانَ في قلبيَ فجرٌ ونُجومْ

يا بني أُمِّي تُرى أَيْنَ الصبَّاح

يا بني أُمِّي تُرى أَيْنَ الصبَّاح

There were dawn and stars in my heart.

O, sons of my mother, where is the morn?

Once, deep within my heart, were dawn and stars,

O sons of my mother, where, I wonder, is the morning?

Life is done, and dawn is far,

O my brethren, where, I wonder, is the morn?

قَدْ تقضَّى العُمْرُ والفَجْرُ بعيدْ

قَدْ تقضَّى العُمْرُ والفَجْرُ بعيدْ

وطَغَى الوادي بمَشْبوبِ النواحْ

وطَغَى الوادي بمَشْبوبِ النواحْ

Life has run its course, and dawn is far away,

The valley is flooded with cries of grief,

Life has ebbed away, and dawn remains afar,

And the valley overflowed with blazing lamentation,

The song of the happy season has ended,

And the valley floods with burning cries of grief,

وانقَضَتْ أُنشودَةُ الفَصْل السَّعيدْ

وانقَضَتْ أُنشودَةُ الفَصْل السَّعيدْ

أَيْنَ نايي هل تَرَامَتْهُ الرِّياحْ

أَيْنَ نايي هل تَرَامَتْهُ الرِّياحْ

And the song of the happy season ended.

Where is my flute? Did the winds scatter it?

And the anthem of the joyous season ends.

Where is my flute? Have the winds tossed it about?

Where is my love? Where is the place of worship?

Where is my flute? Have the winds tossed it aside?

أَيْنَ غابي أَيْنَ محراب السُّجُودْ

أَيْنَ غابي أَيْنَ محراب السُّجُودْ

خبِّروا قلبي فما أَقسى الجراح

خبِّروا قلبي فما أَقسى الجراح

Where is my forest? Where is the sanctuary of prostration?

Tell my heart, for sore are its wounds -

Where is my forest? Where, my shrine of prayer?

Tell my heart—for how cruel the wounds are—

How the joy of good living has flown!

Tell my heart—for how cruel are these wounds—

كيف طارتْ نشوَةُ العيشِ الحَميدْ

كيف طارتْ نشوَةُ العيشِ الحَميدْ

يا بني أُمِّي تُرى أَيْنَ الصَّباح

يا بني أُمِّي تُرى أَيْنَ الصَّباح

How the rapture of pleasant living flew away.

O sons of my mother, where is the morn?

How the rapture of a blissful life has flown.

O sons of my mother, where, I wonder, is the morning?

Beyond the sea? Behind existence?

O my brethren, where, I wonder, is the morn?

أَوَراءَ البَحْرِ أَمْ خلفَ الوُجُودْ

أَوَراءَ البَحْرِ أَمْ خلفَ الوُجُودْ

يا بني أُمِّي تُرى أَيْنَ الصَّباحْ

يا بني أُمِّي تُرى أَيْنَ الصَّباحْ

Is it beyond the sea, or behind existence?

O sons of my mother, where is the morn?

Does it lie beyond the sea, or past all being?

O sons of my mother, where, I wonder, is the morning?

Would that I knew: will tomorrow console me

O my brethren, where, I wonder, is the morn?

ليتَ شِعري هلْ ستُسْليني الغداةْ

ليتَ شِعري هلْ ستُسْليني الغداةْ

وتعزِّيني عن الأَمسِ الفَقيدْ

وتعزِّيني عن الأَمسِ الفَقيدْ

Would that I knew: will the morning comfort me,

And comfort me for the departed yesterday?

If I but knew: will the morrow bring me solace,

And console me for yesterday, now lost,

Will it show me that life's joys

And comfort me for the yesterday I lost?

وتُريني أنَّ أَفراحَ الحَيَاةْ

وتُريني أنَّ أَفراحَ الحَيَاةْ

زُمَرٌ تمضي وأَفواجٌ تَعودْ

زُمَرٌ تمضي وأَفواجٌ تَعودْ

And show me that life's joys

Are groups that pass and crowds that return?

And show me that the fleeting joys of life

Are bands that pass and throngs that return,

Then my heart again is morning and it -

Are troops that vanish and crowds that return?

فإذا قلبي صَباحٌ وإياه

فإذا قلبي صَباحٌ وإياه

وإذا أَحلاميَ الأولى وُرُودْ

وإذا أَحلاميَ الأولى وُرُودْ

Then, behold, my heart is morning and its radiance,

And my early dreams are roses,

Until my heart becomes morning once again,

And behold, my first dreams are roses,

And the thrush has melodious tunes

And my early dreams turn into blooming roses,

وإذا الشُّحْرورُ حُلْوُ النَّغمات

وإذا الشُّحْرورُ حُلْوُ النَّغمات

وإذا الغابُ ضِياءٌ وَنَشيدْ

وإذا الغابُ ضِياءٌ وَنَشيدْ

And behold, the blackbird's notes are sweet,

And the wood is radiance and song.

And the blackbird sings its sweet, melodious tunes,

And behold, the forest is light and song?

Would that I knew: will tomorrow console me

And the forest fills with light and sacred song?

ليتَ شِعري هلْ ستُسْليني الغداةْ

ليتَ شِعري هلْ ستُسْليني الغداةْ

أم سَتَنْسَاني وتبقيني وَحيدْ

أم سَتَنْسَاني وتبقيني وَحيدْ

Would that I knew: will the morning comfort me,

Or forget me and leave me alone?

If I but knew: will the morrow bring me solace,

Or will it forget me and leave me alone?

Would that I knew: will tomorrow comfort me?

Or will it forget me, and leave me all alone?

ليتَ شِعري هل تُعَزِّيني الغَدَاةْ

ليتَ شِعري هل تُعَزِّيني الغَدَاةْ

Would that I knew: will the morning console me?

If I but knew: will the morrow offer comfort?