ما عيدُكَ الفَخمُ إِلّا يَومَ يُغفَرُ لَك

ما عيدُكَ الفَخمُ إِلّا يَومَ يُغفَرُ لَك

لا أَن تَجُرَّ بِهِ مُستَكبِراً حُلَلَك

لا أَن تَجُرَّ بِهِ مُستَكبِراً حُلَلَك

Your grand festival is only the day you are forgiven,

Your lavish feast does not make it a day of pardon

not when you arrogantly trail your fine robes that day.

Unless you drag your garments boastfully

كَم مِن جَديدِ ثِيابِ دينُهُ خَلَقٌ

كَم مِن جَديدِ ثِيابِ دينُهُ خَلَقٌ

تَكادُ تَلعَنُهُ الأَقطارُ حَيثُ سَلَك

تَكادُ تَلعَنُهُ الأَقطارُ حَيثُ سَلَك

How many a man in new clothes has a threadbare faith—

How many garbs of faith are but empty shells

the lands all but curse him wherever he treads!

Cursed from all corners wherever he walked

وَكَم مُرَقَّعِ أَطمارٍ جديدِ تُقىً

وَكَم مُرَقَّعِ أَطمارٍ جديدِ تُقىً

بَكَت عَلَيهِ السَما وَالأَرضُ حينَ هَلَك

بَكَت عَلَيهِ السَما وَالأَرضُ حينَ هَلَك

And how many a man wore patched rags, yet his piety was fresh—

And how many patched cloaks of the pious

heaven and earth wept for him when he died!

The heavens and earth wept when he passed

ما ضَرَّ ذَلِكَ طِمراهُ وَلا نَفَعَت

ما ضَرَّ ذَلِكَ طِمراهُ وَلا نَفَعَت

هَذا حُلاهُ وَلا أَنَّ الرِقابَ مَلَك

هَذا حُلاهُ وَلا أَنَّ الرِقابَ مَلَك

That man's two ragged garments did him no harm, nor did

That did not harm his dignity or help him

this man's finery benefit him, nor his dominion over men's necks.

Neither his attire nor ruling over necks