1. How hard is disgrace, where do I start with disgrace
And how do I recite, O history, what has happened

2. Where can I find a language, to carry
My concerns, so it bears the ice and fire for me

3. Where, O nation I perfected, do I find
I quenched it with the ripe juice of my youth as rivers

4. I gave it a free, throbbing heart and rhyme
And rhymes of poetry were chaste

5. It was roaring with “Omar Al Mukhtar”
But after him, it did not find a chosen one among the people

6. It was blossoming on the thresholds of the house
And today the horsemen of love lost the house

7. O my letters, do not blame me, I am human
I see the wall that did not collapse from it

8. I see sorrow in people’s faces that I hold back
A ire that travels in my heart and claws

9. So how can I be silent about a wound that hurts me
And how can I write excuses afterwards

10. Where do I start, all the earth is dreary
Its horizons stretch, shadow and curtains

11. The faces of the green pastures have become arid
After the meadows, the vegetation has become yellow

12. I did not deceive you with love, I did not hide
My poems from the companions of the road, secrets

13. It tended to your wound, enraptured
And drew from it dreams and ideas

14. The violent winds blow hard, O my homeland
And the promises of your white tent did not last

15. A sword and a minaret did not protect it
They were its supporters in the nights of tremors

16. They used to say, and the brutal gale was painful:
“If you are wind, you have met a storm”

17. The steed stumbles, and there is confusion in its eyes
It starts again on the tragedy, a journey

18. It returns knowing that fate never joined
Its conquests, prosperity begets decline

19. My nation, the tyrants sow in my plains
A sword, and I sow rebels over the sword

20. Their insistence intensified only to make me
More stubborn than the waves of darkness, insistence

21. And the more tyranny increased in its domination
The more I increased in the eyes of the tyrants, defiance

22. Yes, I have lain low, and this is the dawn of my caravan
To wash away from me the shame and disgrace

23. One day I forgot my fortifications and my map
But I never forgot the wound and revenge