نتألّمُ في ليل ِالمِحَن ِ

نتألّمُ في ليل ِالمِحَن ِ

ونذوبُ على سفح ِالزَّمَن ِ

ونذوبُ على سفح ِالزَّمَن ِ

We suffer in the night of trials.

We suffer on the night of ordeals

And we melt upon the slope of time.

And melt on the decline of time

نَنْسابُ لحوناً مُرهَفَةً

نَنْسابُ لحوناً مُرهَفَةً

ما بينَ المِلَّةِ والوَطَن ِ

ما بينَ المِلَّةِ والوَطَن ِ

We flow as delicate melodies

We flow colors exquisitely

Between faith and homeland.

Between creed and homeland

غنينا في الصَّحْو ِوقُلنا

غنينا في الصَّحْو ِوقُلنا

وكتبْنَا في عين ِالوَسن ِ

وكتبْنَا في عين ِالوَسن ِ

We sang in wakefulness and spoke,

We sang at dawn and said

And wrote in the eye of drowsiness.

And wrote in the eye of time

من أرض ِالغبراءِ عَدَوْنَا

من أرض ِالغبراءِ عَدَوْنَا

بالحرفِ إلى قلبِ اليمن ِ

بالحرفِ إلى قلبِ اليمن ِ

From the dusty earth we ran

We came from the dusty land

With the written word to the heart of Yemen.

With letters to the heart of Yemen

وخرجْنا من قَفَص ِالدُّنْيَا

وخرجْنا من قَفَص ِالدُّنْيَا

كخروج ِالروح ِمن البَدَن ِ

كخروج ِالروح ِمن البَدَن ِ

And we emerged from the cage of the world

And we came out of the cage of life

As the soul leaves the body.

Like the soul's exit from the body

نَشدو فنُشِّيدُ تاريخاً

نَشدو فنُشِّيدُ تاريخاً

ونجوبُ الأرضَ بلا سكن ِ

ونجوبُ الأرضَ بلا سكن ِ

We sing, and so we build a history,

We compose so we eulogize history

And roam the earth without a home.

And roam the earth without residence

صهواتُ الشِّعر ِمَنازِلُنا

صهواتُ الشِّعر ِمَنازِلُنا

وظهورُ البهجةِ والحَزَن ِ

وظهورُ البهجةِ والحَزَن ِ

The saddlebacks of poetry are our homes,

The plateaus of poetry are our homes

And the backs of joy and sorrow.

And the emergence of joy and sorrow

فالشعرُ مشّقةُ من عَقِلوا

فالشعرُ مشّقةُ من عَقِلوا

والأرضُ مُقامُ الممتَحَنِ

والأرضُ مُقامُ الممتَحَنِ

For poetry is the hardship of those who understand,

So poetry is an ordeal for the rational

And the earth is the abode of the one put to the test.

And the earth is the abode of the tested

شُعراءَ الأرض ِهل انغمرتْ

شُعراءَ الأرض ِهل انغمرتْ

جمراتُ الصحوةِ في الوهنِ

جمراتُ الصحوةِ في الوهنِ

Poets of the earth, have they been submerged—

Poets of the earth, did the embers

The embers of awakening—in weakness?

Of awakening drown in weakness?

شعراءَ الأرض ِهل انسلختْ

شعراءَ الأرض ِهل انسلختْ

مدُن الأحرار ِمن المدن ِ

مدُن الأحرار ِمن المدن ِ

Poets of the earth, have they peeled away—

Poets of the earth, did the cities

The cities of the free—from the cities?

Of the free secede from cities?

شامٌ يتمزَّقُ في شام ٍ

شامٌ يتمزَّقُ في شام ٍ

عدنٌ يشتاقُ إلى عَدَن ِ

عدنٌ يشتاقُ إلى عَدَن ِ

Sham is torn apart within Sham.

A Levant torn in a Levant

Aden longs for Aden.

Aden longing for an Aden

وخليجٌ يبحثُ عن وجهٍ

وخليجٌ يبحثُ عن وجهٍ

ثانٍ للبيع ِبلا ثَمَن ِ

ثانٍ للبيع ِبلا ثَمَن ِ

And a Gulf searches for a face,

And a Gulf searching for another face

A second one, for sale without a price.

To sell without a price

وشهيدُ القدس ِعلى صَدْري

وشهيدُ القدس ِعلى صَدْري

موؤودٌ يحلُمُ بالكَفَن ِ

موؤودٌ يحلُمُ بالكَفَن ِ

And Jerusalem's martyr, upon my chest,

And Jerusalem's martyr in my chest

Is buried alive, dreaming of a shroud.

A beloved dreaming of shroud

قد جِئتُ من الماضي حُرّاً

قد جِئتُ من الماضي حُرّاً

لكن الحاضِرَ قَيَّدَني

لكن الحاضِرَ قَيَّدَني

I have come from the past, free,

I came from the past free

But the present has shackled me.

But the present shackled me

أبكي أتمزّقُ أشلاءً

أبكي أتمزّقُ أشلاءً

باليأس ِفمن ذا يجمعُنِي

باليأس ِفمن ذا يجمعُنِي

I weep; I am torn to pieces

I cry, torn to pieces

By despair—so who will gather me?

With despair, who will unite me?

من ذا يتفحَّصُ في صَدْرِي

من ذا يتفحَّصُ في صَدْرِي

في رَأسي, من ذا يفهمُنِي

في رَأسي, من ذا يفهمُنِي

Who looks closely within my chest,

Who will examine my chest

Within my head—who understands me?

My head, who will understand me?

يحصُدُني قَوْمي وا أَسفي

يحصُدُني قَوْمي وا أَسفي

من أرضي, من ذا يَزْرَعُني

من أرضي, من ذا يَزْرَعُني

My people reap me—oh, my grief!

My people reap me, oh my sorrow

From my land—who will sow me?

From my land, who will cultivate me?

عَلّمَنِي حُبَّ الأرضِ أَبى

عَلّمَنِي حُبَّ الأرضِ أَبى

يا ليتَ أبي ما عَلَّمَنِي

يا ليتَ أبي ما عَلَّمَنِي

My father taught me to love the earth.

My father taught me love of the land

Oh, if only my father had not taught me.

I wish my father had not taught me