ما لِلمَقابِرِ لا تُجيـ

ما لِلمَقابِرِ لا تُجيـ

ـبُ إِذا دَعاهُنَّ الكَئيبُ

ـبُ إِذا دَعاهُنَّ الكَئيبُ

Why do the graves not answer

What ails the graves, they answer not

when the grief-stricken man calls to them?

When mourner calls, his loss to deplore!

حُفَرٌ مُسَتَّرَةٌ عَلَي

حُفَرٌ مُسَتَّرَةٌ عَلَي

هِنَّ الجَنادِلُ وَالكَئيبُ

هِنَّ الجَنادِلُ وَالكَئيبُ

Covered pits; above

Holes hid, where crawl the worm and gnat,

them are boulders and the grief-stricken man.

And mourner sad, heart-stricken, forlore.

فيهِنَّ وِلدانٌ وَأَطـ

فيهِنَّ وِلدانٌ وَأَطـ

ـفالٌ وَشُبّانٌ وَشيبُ

ـفالٌ وَشُبّانٌ وَشيبُ

In them are young boys and

And graybeards fill the graves' dark holes.

children, young men, and the gray-haired.

Full many a friend I've left inside

كَم مِن حَبيبٍ لَم تَكُن

كَم مِن حَبيبٍ لَم تَكُن

نَفسي بِفُرقَتِهِ تَطيبُ

نَفسي بِفُرقَتِهِ تَطيبُ

How many a beloved—never was

Whose loss has caused my soul to pine.

my soul content with parting from him—

One here I left, shroud-enwrapped, he died,

غادَرتُهُ في بَعضِهِنـ

غادَرتُهُ في بَعضِهِنـ

ـنَ مُجَدَّلاً وَهُوَ الحَبيبُ

ـنَ مُجَدَّلاً وَهُوَ الحَبيبُ

I left him in one of them,

He was my soul's most cherished vine.

laid low—and he was the beloved.

I questioned of him, though I knew

وَسَلَوتُ عَنهُ وَإِنَّما

وَسَلَوتُ عَنهُ وَإِنَّما

عَهدي بِرُؤيَتِهِ قَريبُ

عَهدي بِرُؤيَتِهِ قَريبُ

And I have ceased grieving for him, though

We'd meet again right soon, right true.

it was only recently that I saw him.