إِنّا لَفي دارِ تَنغيصٍ وَتَنكيدِ

إِنّا لَفي دارِ تَنغيصٍ وَتَنكيدِ

دارٌ تُنادي بِها أَيّامُها بيدي

دارٌ تُنادي بِها أَيّامُها بيدي

We are indeed in an abode of vexation and misery,

We are in an abode of distress and affliction,

An abode where its days cry out, "Perish!"

An abode where its days call out to it with separation.

لَقَد عَرَفناكِ يا دُنيا بِمَعرِفَةٍ

لَقَد عَرَفناكِ يا دُنيا بِمَعرِفَةٍ

صَحَّت لَنا فَاِنقُصي إِن شِئتِ أَو زيدي

صَحَّت لَنا فَاِنقُصي إِن شِئتِ أَو زيدي

We have indeed come to know you, O world, with an understanding

We have truly known you, O life, with knowledge

That has proved sound for us; so diminish, if you wish, or increase.

That has become certain for us, so decrease or increase as you wish.

نَرى اللَيالِيَ وَالأَيّامَ مُسرِعَةً

نَرى اللَيالِيَ وَالأَيّامَ مُسرِعَةً

فينا وَفيكِ بِتَفريقٍ وَتَبعيدِ

فينا وَفيكِ بِتَفريقٍ وَتَبعيدِ

We see the nights and days hastening

We see the nights and days rushing

Among us and within you, bringing separation and distance.

Upon us and upon you with division and estrangement.

جَدَّ الرَحيلُ عَنِ الدُنيا وَساكِنها

جَدَّ الرَحيلُ عَنِ الدُنيا وَساكِنها

يَرجو الخُلودَ وَلَيسَت دارَ تَخليدِ

يَرجو الخُلودَ وَلَيسَت دارَ تَخليدِ

Departure from the world draws near, yet its dweller

Parting from this world and its inhabitants has become inevitable,

Hopes for immortality, though it is no abode of everlasting life.

Yet one hopes for immortality, though it is no abode of permanence.

يا نَفسُ لِلمَوتِ بي عَينٌ مُوَكَّلَةٌ

يا نَفسُ لِلمَوتِ بي عَينٌ مُوَكَّلَةٌ

في كُلِّ وَجهٍ فَروغي عَنهُ أَو حيدي

في كُلِّ وَجهٍ فَروغي عَنهُ أَو حيدي

O soul, death has an eye assigned to watch me

O soul, unto death my eyes are entrusted,

In every direction; so slip away from it or turn aside.

So turn away from it or deviate if you can.

إِن كانَتِ الدارُ لَيسَت لي بِباقِيَةٍ

إِن كانَتِ الدارُ لَيسَت لي بِباقِيَةٍ

فَما عَنائي بِتَأسيسٍ وَتَشيِيدِ

فَما عَنائي بِتَأسيسٍ وَتَشيِيدِ

If this abode is not to endure for me,

If this abode will not last for me,

Why should I toil at laying foundations and building?

Why should I weary myself with founding and building?

لَم يَكسُني الدَهرُ يَوماً مِن مَسَرَّتِهِ

لَم يَكسُني الدَهرُ يَوماً مِن مَسَرَّتِهِ

إِلّا جَرى مِنهُ مَكروهٌ بِتَجريدِ

إِلّا جَرى مِنهُ مَكروهٌ بِتَجريدِ

Time never once clothed me in its joy

Fate has never clothed me in its happiness

Without some misfortune from it coming to strip me bare.

Without being accompanied by misfortune and loss.

وَلي مِنَ المَوتِ يَومٌ لا دِفاعَ لَهُ

وَلي مِنَ المَوتِ يَومٌ لا دِفاعَ لَهُ

لَو قَد أَتاني لَقَد ضَلَّت أَقاليدي

لَو قَد أَتاني لَقَد ضَلَّت أَقاليدي

And from death a day awaits me that cannot be warded off;

And I have a day of death that has no defense,

Were it to come to me, my keys would surely be lost.

If it came to me, my strategies would surely fail.

الحَمدُ لِلَّهِ كُلُّ الخَلقِ مُنتَقِصٌ

الحَمدُ لِلَّهِ كُلُّ الخَلقِ مُنتَقِصٌ

مُصَرَّفٌ بَينَ خِذلانٍ وَتَأيِيدِ

مُصَرَّفٌ بَينَ خِذلانٍ وَتَأيِيدِ

Praise be to God; all creation is dwindling,

Praise be to God! All creation is imperfect,

Turned about between abandonment and support.

Shifting between abandonment and support.

وَكُلُّ ما وَلَدَتهُ الوالِداتُ إِلى

وَكُلُّ ما وَلَدَتهُ الوالِداتُ إِلى

مَوتٍ تُؤَدّيهِ ساعاتُ المَواليدِ

مَوتٍ تُؤَدّيهِ ساعاتُ المَواليدِ

And all that mothers have borne is bound for

And all that the mothers have given birth to

Death, to which the hours of birth convey it.

Are bound to a death which the hours of birth will fulfill.