بَرَقتَ بِالوَعدِ في دُجى أَمَلي

بَرَقتَ بِالوَعدِ في دُجى أَمَلي

وَالغَيثُ لا يُقتَضى إِذا بَرَقا

وَالغَيثُ لا يُقتَضى إِذا بَرَقا

You flashed with promise in the darkness of my hope,

You flashed with promise in the gloom of my hope,

And rain is not demanded when it flashes.

Yet rain is not owed when lightning flashes.

حاشاكَ أَن أَقتَضيكَ مَنقَبَةً

حاشاكَ أَن أَقتَضيكَ مَنقَبَةً

تَسلُكُ مِنها إِلى العُلى طُرُقا

تَسلُكُ مِنها إِلى العُلى طُرُقا

Far be it from you that I should exact a noble deed from you,

Far be it from me to demand you

By which you tread paths to the heights.

Take a path that leads on high from it.

فَاِنهَض لَها إِنَّها الغُلامُ تَجِد

فَاِنهَض لَها إِنَّها الغُلامُ تَجِد

حَبلاً ضَنيناً بِكَفِّ مَن عَلِقا

حَبلاً ضَنيناً بِكَفِّ مَن عَلِقا

So rise to it—“indeed it is the youth” [unclear as written]—you will find

So rise for it - it is a boy who finds

A rope reluctant to release the hand of whoever clings to it.

A rope, well-twisted, in the grip of one who tied.

وَكَم صَريخٍ نَهَضتَ تَنصُرُهُ

وَكَم صَريخٍ نَهَضتَ تَنصُرُهُ

وَالطَعنُ يَستَرعِفُ القَنا عَلَقا

وَالطَعنُ يَستَرعِفُ القَنا عَلَقا

And how many a caller for help you have risen to aid,

And how many a cry you rose to defend,

While thrusting draws clotted blood from the spears’ noses.

While the stab makes the spear timid and attached.

تَرعِ العِدا عَن جَوانِبي بِيَدٍ

تَرعِ العِدا عَن جَوانِبي بِيَدٍ

يَروعُ فيها النُضارُ وَالوَرَقا

يَروعُ فيها النُضارُ وَالوَرَقا

You frighten foes away from my sides with a hand

Repel the foe from my flanks with a hand

In which gold and silver inspire awe.

In which the delicate and leaves tremble.