1. فسحوا في محفل الشِّعر لنا،

    نحن من لبنانَ، من عليا الدُّنى

    Make room for us in poetry's assembly,

    We are from Lebanon, from the loftiest of worlds,

  2. جيرةُ الأرزِ، وضاحي ظِلّه،

    والرُّبى الخضرِ، ووشي المنحنى

    Neighbors of the cedar and the open reaches of its shade,

    And of green hills and the winding valley's embroidery.

  3. في الجمال الزَّهوِ، والحقِّ الهدى،

    مكَّن اللهُ لنا ما مكَّنا

    In resplendent beauty and in guiding truth,

    God has so firmly established us.

  4. إن يكن غنَّى «أبو تمّامكم»،

    فاسأَلوا عن شدوه لبناننا

    If your Abu Tammam has sung,

    Then ask our Lebanon about his song.

  5. كم تحنَّتْ، وتمَّنتْ أزمُناً

    فأتينا، وأَعدنا الأَزمُنا

    How often she yearned and wished for bygone times!

    Then we came and brought those times back.

  6. بشِّروا «جلَّقَ» في سامرها،

    واهتفوا، «فابن عُنَينٍ» بيننا

    Bring Jilliq glad tidings at her evening gathering,

    And cry out, for Ibn ʿUnayn is among us!

  7. مُدَّ للشِّعر بساطٌ حافلٌ

    لو مشى ذو التاج فيه لانحنى

    A sumptuous carpet has been spread for poetry;

    Were the wearer of the crown to walk upon it, he would bow.

  8. «بحبيب» الشعرِ قد عاد الهوى

    وعلى ذكراه هَزُّوا السَّوسنا

    Through poetry's Habib, love has returned;

    And in his memory, wave the irises.

  9. أيقولون قديمٌ؟ ويحَهم!

    من يظنُّ الشَّمسَ هانت مَعدِنا

    Do they say, 'It is old'? Woe to them!

    Who thinks the sun's substance has lost its worth?

  10. كلَّما لاح شعاعٌ في الضُّحى

    كان في العين الجديدَ، الأَحسنا

    Whenever a ray gleams in the forenoon,

    It is new and most beautiful to the eye.

  11. هكذا الشَعرُ، وهذا دأْبُه

    صدقَ الآباءُ، يا أبناءنا

    Such is poetry, and this is its way.

    The forefathers spoke truly, O our sons!

  12. زعمَ الشِّعرَ لكم أُلهيَّةً

    زاعمٌ لم يدرِ ما طعمُ العنا

    Poetry was called a diversion for you

    By one who knew not the taste of suffering.

  13. بين صدري، وفمي، لو نظروا

    مضضُ الوحي لردُّوا الأَعيُنا

    If they looked between my breast and my mouth,

    At inspiration's anguish, they would avert their eyes.

  14. إنَّ هذا الشِّعر في رونقهِ

    هو ما جاء به هذا الضَّنى

    Indeed, this poetry, in its splendor,

    Is what this wasting sickness has brought forth.

  15. رحمةً في الوحي للخالي به

    إنَّه بين المنايا، والمن

    Mercy, amid inspiration, for the one alone with it!

    For he is between deaths and grace.