أَلَم تَرَ لِلدُنيا وَسوءِ صَنيعِها

أَلَم تَرَ لِلدُنيا وَسوءِ صَنيعِها

وَلَيسَ سِوى وَجهِ المُهَيمِنِ ثابِتُ

وَلَيسَ سِوى وَجهِ المُهَيمِنِ ثابِتُ

Have you not looked upon the world and the evil of its deeds?

Have you not seen the evil ways of this world,

And nothing but the face of the Guardian endures.

With nothing lasting except the face of the Omnipotent.

تَخالَفَ بِرساها فَبِرسٌ بِهامَةٍ

تَخالَفَ بِرساها فَبِرسٌ بِهامَةٍ

أُقِرَّ وَبِرسٌ يُذهِبُ القُرَّ نابِتُ

أُقِرَّ وَبِرسٌ يُذهِبُ القُرَّ نابِتُ

Its two cottons differ: one cotton upon a head

It raises some with splendor then casts them down,

has been fixed there, while another cotton grows, dispelling the cold.

While raising others and removing their distress.

مُصَلٍّ وَدَهرِيٌّ وَغاوٍ وَناسِكٌ

مُصَلٍّ وَدَهرِيٌّ وَغاوٍ وَناسِكٌ

وَأَزهَرُ مَكبوتٌ وَأَسوَدُ كابِتُ

وَأَزهَرُ مَكبوتٌ وَأَسوَدُ كابِتُ

One who prays and an atheist, one astray and an ascetic,

The pious, the secular, the misguided and the ascetic -

and a fair-skinned man subdued, and a black man subduing.

A blossoming flower, a pitch-black darkness.

أَيَنَحَلُّ سَبتٌ يَعقِدُ الحَظَّ يَوُمهُ

أَيَنَحَلُّ سَبتٌ يَعقِدُ الحَظَّ يَوُمهُ

فَيَنجَحَ ساعٍ أَم هُوَ الدَهرُ سابِتُ

فَيَنجَحَ ساعٍ أَم هُوَ الدَهرُ سابِتُ

Will a Saturday whose day binds fortune be unbound,

Does fortune take turns binding souls one day,

so that one who strives may succeed—or is Time itself asleep?

Then free the striving, or is it just steadfast fate?