دوالَيْكَ من دهرٍ يواليكَ بالنُّجْحِ

دوالَيْكَ من دهرٍ يواليكَ بالنُّجْحِ

ففتحٌ إِلَى عيدٍ وعيدٌ إِلَى فتحِ

ففتحٌ إِلَى عيدٍ وعيدٌ إِلَى فتحِ

One turn after another comes to you from an age that favors you with success;

Your fortunes follow you through the ages with success,

So a conquest leads to a festival, and a festival to a conquest.

Opening into a festival, a festival opening into triumph,

كما بَشَّرَتْ بالغيثِ بارِقَةُ الحَيا

كما بَشَّرَتْ بالغيثِ بارِقَةُ الحَيا

ووأَسفر عن شمسِ الضحى فَلَقُ الصُّبْحِ

ووأَسفر عن شمسِ الضحى فَلَقُ الصُّبْحِ

As rain-bearing lightning heralded the rain,

As lightning heralds the rain, dawn discloses the sun,

And daybreak unveiled the midmorning sun.

And morning’s breeze disperses the darkness.

وريحٌ من الإِقبالِ تعصِفُ بالعِدى

وريحٌ من الإِقبالِ تعصِفُ بالعِدى

وتنشأُ للإِسلامِ بالوابِلِ السَّحِّ

وتنشأُ للإِسلامِ بالوابِلِ السَّحِّ

And a wind of good fortune storms against the foes,

By the abundant rain Islam thrives anew,

And rises for Islam bearing a streaming downpour.

Through you, O reviver of religion and guidance!

حياً منكَ يَا يحيى عَلَى الدينِ والهدى

حياً منكَ يَا يحيى عَلَى الدينِ والهدى

بوارِقُهُ فِي الكفرِ خاطفَةُ اللَّمْحِ

بوارِقُهُ فِي الكفرِ خاطفَةُ اللَّمْحِ

Life-giving rain from you, O Yahya, upon religion and guidance,

Its gleaming banners in the infidels’ darkness

Its lightning flashes amid unbelief, snatching away sight.

Are like the wings the Yemen’s birds spread in exultation.

جديرُ الندى أن تُتْبِعَ المَنَّ بالمُنى

جديرُ الندى أن تُتْبِعَ المَنَّ بالمُنى

وسُمُّ العِدى أَن تنكأَ القرحَ بالقرحِ

وسُمُّ العِدى أَن تنكأَ القرحَ بالقرحِ

It befits your generosity to follow favors with wishes fulfilled,

It sails on every tumultuous sea

And it is poison to foes when you reopen wounds with wounds.

With glorifiers praising the name of its Lord.

فَوُفِّيتَ من سعْيِ الجهادِ تجارةً

فَوُفِّيتَ من سعْيِ الجهادِ تجارةً

مضاعَفَةَ الأَضعافِ نامِيَةَ الرِّبْحِ

مضاعَفَةَ الأَضعافِ نامِيَةَ الرِّبْحِ

So you were fully rewarded for your striving in jihad with a trade,

In the fray, amidst the havoc of war,

Multiplied many times over, with ever-growing profit.

The heroes are reminded of Bilqis in her lofty palace,

كما بشّرت بالغيثِ بارقة الحيا

كما بشّرت بالغيثِ بارقة الحيا

ووأَسفرَ عن شمس الضحى فلقُ الصبحِ

ووأَسفرَ عن شمس الضحى فلقُ الصبحِ

As rain-bearing lightning heralded the rain,

While your sword serves the necks and markets,

And daybreak unveiled the midmorning sun.

Like Solomon’s blade enforcing God’s writ,

رفعتَ لَهَا أَعلامَ نَصرٍ كَأَنَّما

رفعتَ لَهَا أَعلامَ نَصرٍ كَأَنَّما

كستها طيورُ اليُمْنِ أَجنِحَةَ النُّجْحِ

كستها طيورُ اليُمْنِ أَجنِحَةَ النُّجْحِ

You raised for it banners of victory, as though

Flashing in the battle’s heat a deadly stroke

Birds of good fortune had clothed them in the wings of success.

That cleaves the devil’s liver with a gaping wound.

تمورُ بِهَا فِي كُلِّ بحرٍ من الوغى

تمورُ بِهَا فِي كُلِّ بحرٍ من الوغى

سوابِحُ محمودٌ لَهَا شِيَمُ السَّبْحِ

سوابِحُ محمودٌ لَهَا شِيَمُ السَّبْحِ

With them, in every sea of battle, surge

In black night’s wings you made it shine at dawn,

Swimming steeds, praised for their swimming ways.

Dispelling the night of sorrow brooding low.

إِذِ الحربُ بالأَبطالِ فِي لُجَّةِ الرَّدى

إِذِ الحربُ بالأَبطالِ فِي لُجَّةِ الرَّدى

تُذَكِّرُهُمْ بَلْقيسَ فِي لُجَّةِ الصَّرْحِ

تُذَكِّرُهُمْ بَلْقيسَ فِي لُجَّةِ الصَّرْحِ

When war, with its champions in death's abyss,

What mother of unbelief have you not vanquished

Reminds them of Bilqis in the palace's watery depths.

Striking her sons, victorious, in the highlands?

وسيفُكَ فِي الأعناقِ والسُّوقِ مُقْتَدٍ

وسيفُكَ فِي الأعناقِ والسُّوقِ مُقْتَدٍ

بسيفِ سليمانَ المُوَكَّلِ بالمَسْحِ

بسيفِ سليمانَ المُوَكَّلِ بالمَسْحِ

And your sword, among necks and shanks, follows the example

How many infidels’ nests were laid waste

Of Solomon's sword, entrusted with hewing.

By your blows, when hands proffered nothing!

لَمَعْتَ بِهِ فِي جوِّ ناجِرَ لمعةً

لَمَعْتَ بِهِ فِي جوِّ ناجِرَ لمعةً

ثَنَتْ كَبِدَ الشيطانِ دامِيَةَ الجُرْحِ

ثَنَتْ كَبِدَ الشيطانِ دامِيَةَ الجُرْحِ

You flashed it through Najir's air, a flash

You ignored equals, though faces paraded their charms,

That bent Satan's liver, its wound bleeding.

Grew deaf to suitors, though they rode high.

وصبَّحْتَها فِي جنح ليلٍ من القَنا

وصبَّحْتَها فِي جنح ليلٍ من القَنا

أَحَلَّ بِهَا ليلَ الأَسى مُطْبِقَ الجُنْحِ

أَحَلَّ بِهَا ليلَ الأَسى مُطْبِقَ الجُنْحِ

And you raided it at dawn beneath the wing of a night of spears,

Soon you displayed them, marching to war unfurled,

That brought upon it grief's night, its wings shut tight.

As beauties who rise to make dawn glow,

فأَيَّةُ أُمٍّ للضلالِ قَهَرْتَها

فأَيَّةُ أُمٍّ للضلالِ قَهَرْتَها

بَنِيها بضربٍ فِي الطُّلى فائِزِ القِدْحِ

بَنِيها بضربٍ فِي الطُّلى فائِزِ القِدْحِ

So what a mother of error you subdued—

Canopied by banners as though they were gazelles

Her sons—with neck-strikes that drew the winning lot!

Grazing freely in a meadow’s shade.

وبيضةِ كفرٍ كم وكم لكَ أَسْمَحَتْ

وبيضةِ كفرٍ كم وكم لكَ أَسْمَحَتْ

ببيضةِ خِدْرٍ لا تُواتي يَدَ السَّمحِ

ببيضةِ خِدْرٍ لا تُواتي يَدَ السَّمحِ

And many, many an egg of unbelief freely yielded you

Not houris, but planets whose brilliance

A bower's egg—a maiden no generous hand could win.

You eclipsed with the sword and spear’s ray.

جَلَلْنَ عن الأَكفاءِ قدراً وأَوجُها

جَلَلْنَ عن الأَكفاءِ قدراً وأَوجُها

فأُصْمِمْنَ عن خِطْبٍ وأُخْرِسْنَ عن نِكْحِ

فأُصْمِمْنَ عن خِطْبٍ وأُخْرِسْنَ عن نِكْحِ

They surpassed their peers in rank and countenance,

Their eyes in return rain down upon us from your arrows

So they were made deaf to suitors and mute to marriage matches.

Love’s shafts, which promise union and peace.

فسرعانَ مَا أَبرزْتَ منهنَّ للفلا

فسرعانَ مَا أَبرزْتَ منهنَّ للفلا

غدائِرَ تُمْسِي فِي سنا أَوْجُهٍ تُضْحِي

غدائِرَ تُمْسِي فِي سنا أَوْجُهٍ تُضْحِي

So how swiftly you brought forth from among them into the wastes

They reveal, beneath the blood their swords shed,

Braids growing dusky in the glow of faces brightening into morn,

Beauty’s essence, all grace and loveliness.

مُظَلَّلَةً بالخافِقاتِ كَأَنَّها

مُظَلَّلَةً بالخافِقاتِ كَأَنَّها

ظِباءٌ تَهادى فِي ذرَا الأَيْكِ والطَّلْحِ

ظِباءٌ تَهادى فِي ذرَا الأَيْكِ والطَّلْحِ

Shaded by fluttering banners, as though they were

This mother of unbelief, after her routing,

Gazelles swaying gracefully in the shelter of groves and acacias.

Is darkness without stars, night without dawn.

كواعِبُ إِلّا أَنَّهُنَّ كواكِبٌ

كواعِبُ إِلّا أَنَّهُنَّ كواكِبٌ

جَلَوْتَ سناها من سَنا السيفِ والرُّمْحِ

جَلَوْتَ سناها من سَنا السيفِ والرُّمْحِ

Budding-breasted maidens—yet they are stars,

Clad in glory’s raiment, you left her

You brought their radiance forth from the gleam of sword and spear.

Huddled in rags, vile, scorned, abased,

تردُّ إِلينا عن سهامِكَ فِيهِمُ

تردُّ إِلينا عن سهامِكَ فِيهِمُ

سهامَ عيونٍ حربُها موشِكُ الصُّلحِ

سهامَ عيونٍ حربُها موشِكُ الصُّلحِ

They send back to us, in exchange for your arrows among them,

Weeping for the nobles whose lives your blades took—

Arrows of eyes whose war will soon give way to peace.

Swords that rent beauty and wit asunder.

وتُسْفِرُ عن أَشباهِ مَا نَضَحَتْ بِهِ

وتُسْفِرُ عن أَشباهِ مَا نَضَحَتْ بِهِ

سيوفٌ سَبَتْهَا من دَمٍ شَرِقِ النّضْحِ

سيوفٌ سَبَتْهَا من دَمٍ شَرِقِ النّضْحِ

And reveal likenesses of what was splashed by

Every mourning woman casting her eye

The swords that captured them—a brimming spray of blood.

Toward the horizon hears only, “Begone!”

فهاتيكَ أُمُّ الكفرِ ناجِرُ بَعْدَها

فهاتيكَ أُمُّ الكفرِ ناجِرُ بَعْدَها

ظلاماً بلا نجمٍ وليلاً بلا صُبحِ

ظلاماً بلا نجمٍ وليلاً بلا صُبحِ

So there is Najir, mother of unbelief, after that:

And every aborted nest of sedition

Darkness without a star, and night without a dawn.

Will be left, thanks to you, wrecked shells.

لبستَ بِهَا ثوبَ الفخارِ مُجَدَّداً

لبستَ بِهَا ثوبَ الفخارِ مُجَدَّداً

وغادَرْتَها تلتفُّ فِي خَلَقِ المِسْحِ

وغادَرْتَها تلتفُّ فِي خَلَقِ المِسْحِ

There you donned the robe of glory anew,

Consider the swelling poison you quenched

And left it wrapping itself in threadbare sackcloth.

At every spring, curing thirst’s burning pangs,

تُباكِي صَدى الهامِ الَّتِي تَرَكَتْ بِهَا

تُباكِي صَدى الهامِ الَّتِي تَرَكَتْ بِهَا

سيوفُكَ عن ذاتِ المحاسِنِ والمِلْحِ

سيوفُكَ عن ذاتِ المحاسِنِ والمِلْحِ

She weeps with the owl-cries of the skulls left there

Though opened away from its source, the Nile

By your swords in place of a woman of beauty and charm.

Denied it, the lion baring its deadly fangs.

وعَبْرَةِ ثكلى مَا تقلِّبُ ناظِراً

وعَبْرَةِ ثكلى مَا تقلِّبُ ناظِراً

إِلَى أُفُقٍ إِلّا يقولُ لَهَا سُحِّي

إِلَى أُفُقٍ إِلّا يقولُ لَهَا سُحِّي

And a bereaved mother's tears—she never turns her gaze

What guide led you to each watering place?

Toward a horizon but it tells her, 'Pour forth!'

To what goal did you march each army?

وينعى إِليها كلَّ بيضَةِ فِتْنَةٍ

وينعى إِليها كلَّ بيضَةِ فِتْنَةٍ

ستترُكُها قَيْضاً هشِيماً بلا مُحِّ

ستترُكُها قَيْضاً هشِيماً بلا مُحِّ

And proclaims to her the doom of every egg of strife

They are homeless throngs no shower can succor,

That you will leave a shattered eggshell, without yolk,

Parched men the dew’s sprinkling cannot revive.

بما قَدْ رأَى فِي كلِّ ماءٍ أَمَمْتَهُ

بما قَدْ رأَى فِي كلِّ ماءٍ أَمَمْتَهُ

لتشْفِيَ منها غُلَّة الظَّمَأِ البَرْحِ

لتشْفِيَ منها غُلَّة الظَّمَأِ البَرْحِ

For what it has seen at every water you have sought

To quench with it the burning of tormenting thirst,

وإِن أُشْرِعَتْ من دونِ مشربِهِ القنا

وإِن أُشْرِعَتْ من دونِ مشربِهِ القنا

وكاشَرَ عَنهُ الأسدُ دامِيَةَ الأَلْحِي

وكاشَرَ عَنهُ الأسدُ دامِيَةَ الأَلْحِي

And even if spears were leveled before its drinking-place,

And lions bared their teeth in its defense, their jaws bloodied.

فأَيُّ دلاءِ فِيهِ أَدلَيْتَ ماتِحاً

فأَيُّ دلاءِ فِيهِ أَدلَيْتَ ماتِحاً

وأَيَّةَ أَشْطَانٍ مَدَدْتَ إِلَى المَتْحِ

وأَيَّةَ أَشْطَانٍ مَدَدْتَ إِلَى المَتْحِ

Then what buckets you lowered into it, drawing water,

And what ropes you stretched to draw it up!

هوائِمُ بِيضٌ لا يُصَدُّ بِهَا الرِّوى

هوائِمُ بِيضٌ لا يُصَدُّ بِهَا الرِّوى

وسُمْرٌ ظِماءٌ لا يُعَلَّلْنَ بالنَّشْحِ

وسُمْرٌ ظِماءٌ لا يُعَلَّلْنَ بالنَّشْحِ

Thirst-maddened white blades, with which a full draught cannot be barred,

And thirsty brown spears, not appeased by scant drops.