يا أَيُّها الشادي المُغَرِّدُ في الضُحى

يا أَيُّها الشادي المُغَرِّدُ في الضُحى

أَهواكَ إِن تُنشِد وَإِن لَم تُنشِدِ

أَهواكَ إِن تُنشِد وَإِن لَم تُنشِدِ

O singer, warbling in the morning light,

O you who sing joyfully in the morning glow

O chanting bird, warbling in the morning light,

I love you whether you sing or do not.

I adore you whether you sing or not

I love you whether you sing or remain silent.

الفَنُّ فيكَ سَجِيَّةٌ لا صَنعَةٌ

الفَنُّ فيكَ سَجِيَّةٌ لا صَنعَةٌ

وَالحُبُّ عِندَكَ كَالطَبيعَةِ سَرمَدي

وَالحُبُّ عِندَكَ كَالطَبيعَةِ سَرمَدي

Art in you is instinct, not artifice,

Artistry in you is innate not acquired

Art within you is instinct, not craft,

And love, for you, is eternal as nature.

And love to you is like eternal nature

And love, for you, is like nature itself—eternal.

فَإِذا سَكَتَّ فَأَنتَ لَحنٌ طائِرٌ

فَإِذا سَكَتَّ فَأَنتَ لَحنٌ طائِرٌ

وَإِذا نَطَقتَ فَأَنتَ غَيرُ مُقَلِّدِ

وَإِذا نَطَقتَ فَأَنتَ غَيرُ مُقَلِّدِ

When you fall silent, you are a flying melody,

So when you're silent, you're a flying melody

When you are silent, you are a melody on the wing,

And when you give voice, you are no imitator.

And when you speak, you're no imitator

And when you voice your song, you imitate no one.

لِلَّهِ دَرُّكَ شاعِراً لا يَنتَهي

لِلَّهِ دَرُّكَ شاعِراً لا يَنتَهي

مِن جَيِّدٍ إِلا صَبا لِلأَجوَدِ

مِن جَيِّدٍ إِلا صَبا لِلأَجوَدِ

How splendid you are—a poet who never finishes

God bless you, a poet with no end

How magnificent a poet you are, never ceasing,

Something fine without yearning for something finer.

In excellence, save youth for the most generous

Turning from the good only to yearn for the best.

مَرَحُ الأَزهارِ في غِنائِك وَالشَذى

مَرَحُ الأَزهارِ في غِنائِك وَالشَذى

وَطَلاقَةُ الغُدران وَالفَجر وَالنَدى

وَطَلاقَةُ الغُدران وَالفَجر وَالنَدى

The flowers' merriment and fragrance are in your song,

The dance of flowers in your singing and the fragrance

The joy of blossoms and their fragrance live in your song,

And the exuberance of pools, dawn, and dew.

And the freedom of the streams, dawn, and dew

As do the fluency of brooks, the dawn, and the dew.

وَكَأَنَّ زَورَكَ فيهِ أَلفُ كَمَنجَةٍ

وَكَأَنَّ زَورَكَ فيهِ أَلفُ كَمَنجَةٍ

وَكَأَنَّ صَدرَكَ فيهِ أَلفُ مُرَدِّدِ

وَكَأَنَّ صَدرَكَ فيهِ أَلفُ مُرَدِّدِ

It is as though your breast holds a thousand violins,

As if your flute has a thousand fingered holes

It is as if your throat holds a thousand violins,

And your chest holds a thousand echoing voices.

And your chest a thousand echoing chambers

And as if your chest contains a thousand choristers.

كَم زَهرَةٍ في السَفحِ خادِرَةِ المُنى

كَم زَهرَةٍ في السَفحِ خادِرَةِ المُنى

سَكَنَت عَلى يَأسٍ سُكونَ الجَلمَدِ

سَكَنَت عَلى يَأسٍ سُكونَ الجَلمَدِ

How many a flower on the slope, its hopes dormant,

How many wilted flowers on the hillside

How many a flower on the hillside, with dormant desires,

Lay in despair, still as a boulder;

Sank into the stillness of the frozen

Lay settled in despair, still as a rock?

غَنَّيتَها فَاِستَيقَظَت وَتَرَنَّحَت

غَنَّيتَها فَاِستَيقَظَت وَتَرَنَّحَت

وَتَأَلَّقَت كَالكَوكَبِ المُتَوَقِّدِ

وَتَأَلَّقَت كَالكَوكَبِ المُتَوَقِّدِ

You sang to it, and it awoke and swayed,

You sang them and they awakened and sighed

You sang to it, and it awoke and swayed,

And shone like a blazing star.

And shone like a flaming star

Shining bright as a burning star.

وَجَرى الهَوى فيها وَشاعَ بَشاشَةً

وَجَرى الهَوى فيها وَشاعَ بَشاشَةً

مَن لَم يُحِبَّ فَإِنَّهُ لَم يولَدِ

مَن لَم يُحِبَّ فَإِنَّهُ لَم يولَدِ

Love coursed through it and spread as gladness;

And passion flowed in them and joy spread

Passion flowed through it, spreading delight;

Whoever has not loved has never been born.

Who hasn't loved, he wasn't born

For he who has not loved has truly never been born.

وَكَأَنَّي بِكَ حينَ تَهتِفُ قائِلٌ

وَكَأَنَّي بِكَ حينَ تَهتِفُ قائِلٌ

لِلزَهرِ إِنَّ الحُسنَ غَيرُ مُخَلَّدِ

لِلزَهرِ إِنَّ الحُسنَ غَيرُ مُخَلَّدِ

And when you call, I seem to hear you saying

And I see you when you cry out saying

It is as if, when you call out, you are saying

To the flowers, “Beauty does not last forever,

To the flowers, beauty does not last

To the flowers: "Beauty is not immortal."

فَاِستَنفِذي في الحُبِّ أَيّامَ الصِبا

فَاِستَنفِذي في الحُبِّ أَيّامَ الصِبا

وَاِستَرشِديهِ فَهوَ أَصدَقُ مُرشِدِ

وَاِستَرشِديهِ فَهوَ أَصدَقُ مُرشِدِ

So spend your youthful days in love,

So spend your days of youth in love

"So spend your days of youth entirely in love,"

And seek its guidance, for it is the truest guide.

And seek its guidance, for it's the truest guide

"And let love lead you, for it is the truest guide."

وَاِستَشهِدي فيهِ فَمِن سُخرِ القَضا

وَاِستَشهِدي فيهِ فَمِن سُخرِ القَضا

أَن لا تَذوقيه وَأَن تُستَشهَدي

أَن لا تَذوقيه وَأَن تُستَشهَدي

And be martyred in it; for one of fate's ironies

And die for it, for by the tyranny of fate

"And become a martyr for it; for it is a mockery of fate"

Is never to taste it, yet to die a martyr.”

You'll neither taste it nor be martyred

"To die without ever having tasted love."

يا فَيلَسوفاً قَد تَلاقى عِندَهُ

يا فَيلَسوفاً قَد تَلاقى عِندَهُ

طَرَبُ الخَلِي وَحَرقَهُ المُتَوَجِّدِ

طَرَبُ الخَلِي وَحَرقَهُ المُتَوَجِّدِ

O philosopher, in whom have met

O philosopher who has found in himself

O philosopher, within whom meet

The carefree one's delight and the impassioned lover's burning anguish,

The madness of ecstasy and burning ardor

The mirth of the carefree and the burning of the passionate.

رَفَعَ الرَبيعُ لَكَ الأَرائِكَ في الرُبى

رَفَعَ الرَبيعُ لَكَ الأَرائِكَ في الرُبى

وَكَسا حَواشيها بُرودَ زَبَرجَدِ

وَكَسا حَواشيها بُرودَ زَبَرجَدِ

Spring has raised couches for you on the hills,

Spring raised the cushions for you in the meadows

Spring has raised couches for you upon the hills,

And clad their borders in cloaks of chrysolite.

And lined them with emeralds

And clothed their borders in cloaks of emerald.

أَنتَ المَليكُ لَهُ الضِياءُ مَقاصِرٌ

أَنتَ المَليكُ لَهُ الضِياءُ مَقاصِرٌ

وَتَعيشُ عَيشَ الناسِكِ المُتَزَهِّدِ

وَتَعيشُ عَيشَ الناسِكِ المُتَزَهِّدِ

You are the king whose chambers are light,

You're the king whose kingdom is endless

You are the king whose palaces are made of light,

Yet you live the life of an ascetic hermit.

Yet you live like an ascetic monk

Yet you live the life of an ascetic hermit.

مُستَوفِزاً فَوقَ الثَرى مُتَنَقِّلاً

مُستَوفِزاً فَوقَ الثَرى مُتَنَقِّلاً

في الدَوحِ مِن غُصنٍ لِغُصنٍ أَملَدِ

في الدَوحِ مِن غُصنٍ لِغُصنٍ أَملَدِ

Poised to spring above the earth, moving about

Tempting over the land, traveling

Poised alert above the earth, moving

Among the great trees, from branch to supple branch,

From branch to branch in the orchard

Among the great trees, from one tender branch to another.

مُتَزَوِّداً مِن كُلِّ حُسنٍ لَمحَةً

مُتَزَوِّداً مِن كُلِّ حُسنٍ لَمحَةً

شَأنَ المُحِبِّ الثائِرِ المُتَمَرِّدِ

شَأنَ المُحِبِّ الثائِرِ المُتَمَرِّدِ

Taking a glimpse of every beauty as your provision,

Taking from every beauty a hint

Gathering a glimpse from every beauty as provision,

Like a lover, rebellious and defiant.

The way of the passionate rebel

Like a lover, revolutionary and rebellious.

وَإِذا ظَفِرتَ بِنَفحَة وَبِقَطرَةٍ

وَإِذا ظَفِرتَ بِنَفحَة وَبِقَطرَةٍ

فَلَقَد ظَفِرتَ بِرَوضَة وَبِمَورِدِ

فَلَقَد ظَفِرتَ بِرَوضَة وَبِمَورِدِ

And if you win a fragrant breath and a drop,

And if you win a whiff or a drop

And if you capture but a breath of scent or a single drop,

You have indeed won a garden and a watering place.

You've won a garden and springs

You have captured a whole garden and a spring.

تَشدو وَتَبهَتُ حائِراً مُتَرَدِّداً

تَشدو وَتَبهَتُ حائِراً مُتَرَدِّداً

حَتّى كَأَنَّكَ حينَ تُعطي تَجتَدي

حَتّى كَأَنَّكَ حينَ تُعطي تَجتَدي

You sing and stand dumbstruck, bewildered and hesitant,

You sing and rave confused and hesitating

You sing, then fall silent, bewildered and hesitant,

So that, even as you give, you seem to beg.

As if when you give you overexert yourself

As if, even while giving, you are pleading for something.

وَتَمُدُّ صَوتَكَ في الفَضا مُتَلَهِّفاً

وَتَمُدُّ صَوتَكَ في الفَضا مُتَلَهِّفاً

في ذَلَّةِ المُستَرحِمِ المُستَنجِدِ

في ذَلَّةِ المُستَرحِمِ المُستَنجِدِ

And you draw out your voice into the open air, yearning,

And you extend your voice into the sky desperately

You stretch your voice across the void, yearning,

With the abasement of one begging for mercy and help.

With the humiliation of one begging and pleading

With the humility of one seeking mercy and aid.

فَكَأَنَّما لَكَ مَوطِنٌ ضَيَّعتُهُ

فَكَأَنَّما لَكَ مَوطِنٌ ضَيَّعتُهُ

خَلفَ الكَواكِبِ في الزَمانِ الأَبعَدِ

خَلفَ الكَواكِبِ في الزَمانِ الأَبعَدِ

As though you had a homeland that I lost,

As if you once had a home you lost

As if you had a homeland that you lost,

Beyond the stars, in the remotest age—

Behind the stars in the furthest time

Beyond the stars, in a time long past.

وَطَنٌ جَميلٌ كُنتَ فيهِ سَيِّداً

وَطَنٌ جَميلٌ كُنتَ فيهِ سَيِّداً

فَمَضى وَدامَ عَلَيكَ هَمُّ السَيِّدِ

فَمَضى وَدامَ عَلَيكَ هَمُّ السَيِّدِ

A beautiful homeland where you were a lord;

A beautiful homeland where you were master

A beautiful homeland where you were once master,

It vanished, but a lord's sorrow stayed with you.

But it's gone and you remain full of a master's worries

That has vanished, though the master's burden remains with you.

طورِدتَ عَنهُ إِلى الحَضيضِ فَلَم تَزَل

طورِدتَ عَنهُ إِلى الحَضيضِ فَلَم تَزَل

مُتَلَفِّتاً كَالخائِفِ المُتَشَّرِدِ

مُتَلَفِّتاً كَالخائِفِ المُتَشَّرِدِ

You were hounded from it to the depths, and still remain

Cast out to the lowest depths yet still

Expelled from there to this low earth, you remain

Looking about like a frightened wanderer.

Looking around like a frightened vagrant

Forever looking back, like a frightened exile.

يَبدو لِعَينِكَ في العَتيقِ خَيالُهُ

يَبدو لِعَينِكَ في العَتيقِ خَيالُهُ

وَتَراهُ في وَرَقِ الغُصونِ المَيَّدِ

وَتَراهُ في وَرَقِ الغُصونِ المَيَّدِ

Its image appears to your eye in ancient things,

It appears to your eye in antiquities its mirage

Its phantom appears to your eye in the twilight glow,

And you see it in the leaves of swaying branches:

And you see it in the leaves' sway

And you see it in the leaves of swaying boughs.

صُوَرٌ مُعَدَّدَةٌ لِغَيرِ حَقيقَةٍ

صُوَرٌ مُعَدَّدَةٌ لِغَيرِ حَقيقَةٍ

كَالآلِ لاحَ لِمُعطِشٍ في فَدفَدِ

كَالآلِ لاحَ لِمُعطِشٍ في فَدفَدِ

Manifold images of something unreal,

Images multiplied with no reality

Manifold images of something unreal,

Like a mirage appearing to a thirsty person on a barren plain.

Like a mirage for a thirsty man in the desert

Like a mirage appearing to the thirsty in a wasteland.

فَتَهُمُّ أَن تَدنو إِلَيه وَتَنثَني

فَتَهُمُّ أَن تَدنو إِلَيه وَتَنثَني

حَتّى كَأَنَّكَ خائِفٌ أَن تَهتَدي

حَتّى كَأَنَّكَ خائِفٌ أَن تَهتَدي

You make to draw near it, then turn back,

So you're eager to approach it and bend down

You move to approach it, then turn away,

As though you feared to find the way.

As if you're afraid to find the way

As if you are afraid to find your way.

وَكَأَنَّهُ حُلمٌ يَصُحُّ مَعَ الكَرى

وَكَأَنَّهُ حُلمٌ يَصُحُّ مَعَ الكَرى

فَإِنِ اِنتَهَيتَ مِنَ الكَرى يَتَبدَّدِ

فَإِنِ اِنتَهَيتَ مِنَ الكَرى يَتَبدَّدِ

And as though it were a dream that comes true in sleep,

As if it's a dream that makes sense with fatigue

As if it is a dream that thrives in slumber,

But if you emerge from slumber, it scatters.

For if you tire of fatigue, it will vanish

But when you wake from sleep, it scatters away.

كَم ذا نُفَتِّشُ في السُفوح وَفي الذُرى

كَم ذا نُفَتِّشُ في السُفوح وَفي الذُرى

وَنقاءُ أَقرَبُ مِنهُ لِلمُتَصَيِّدِ

وَنقاءُ أَقرَبُ مِنهُ لِلمُتَصَيِّدِ

How long we search the slopes and summits,

Why do we search the hillsides and places

How long we search the valleys and the peaks,

Yet a phoenix is nearer to the hunter than it.

When the pure air is closer to the hunter

While purity lies closer than the prey is to the hunter.

يا أَيُّها الشادي المُغرِّدُ في الضُحى

يا أَيُّها الشادي المُغرِّدُ في الضُحى

أَهواكَ إِن تُنشِد وَإِن لَم تُنشِدِ

أَهواكَ إِن تُنشِد وَإِن لَم تُنشِدِ

O singer, warbling in the morning light,

O you who sing joyfully in the morning glow

O chanting bird, warbling in the morning light,

I love you whether you sing or do not.

I adore you whether you sing or not

I love you whether you sing or remain silent.

طوباكَ إِنَّكَ لا تُفَكِّرُ في غَدٍ

طوباكَ إِنَّكَ لا تُفَكِّرُ في غَدٍ

بَدءُ الكَآبَةِ أَن تُفَكِّرَ في غَدِ

بَدءُ الكَآبَةِ أَن تُفَكِّرَ في غَدِ

Blessed are you: you do not think of tomorrow;

Blessed are you who don't think of tomorrow

Blessed are you, for you do not think of tomorrow;

The beginning of sorrow is to think of tomorrow.

The beginning of gloom is to think of tomorrow

The beginning of melancholy is to think of tomorrow.

إِن كُنتَ قَد ضَيَّعتَ إِلفَكَ إِنَّني

إِن كُنتَ قَد ضَيَّعتَ إِلفَكَ إِنَّني

أَبكي طَلى إِلفي الَّذي لَم يوجَدِ

أَبكي طَلى إِلفي الَّذي لَم يوجَدِ

If you have lost your companion, I

If you have lost your intimacy, I

If you have lost your mate, know that I

Weep for my companion who never existed.

Weep for my intimacy that never was

Weep for the phantom of a mate who was never found.