1. أَيُّها الموسم هَل أَنتَ سِوى

    صورة المَجد الَّذي كانَ لَنا

    O festival, are you anything but

    An image of the glory that was ours?

  2. قَد مَشى الدَهر عَلَيهِ وَطَوى

    صحفاً كنَّ سَناءً وَسَنا

    Time has passed over it and folded away

    Pages that were splendor and radiance.

  3. أَيُّها المَوسم هَل بَينَ الجُموع

    غَير ترداد صَدى النَصر المُبين

    O festival, is there among the crowds

    Anything but the repeated echo of manifest victory?

  4. أَصَلاح الدين حيّ في الرُبوع

    أَم سُيوف الفَتح فيها يَنجلين

    Is Salah al-Din alive in these lands,

    Or do the swords of conquest gleam there?

  5. أَينَ قَوم جَهلوا مَعنى الخُنوع

    ذَهب الآباء تَعساً لِلبَنين

    Where are the people who knew not the meaning of submission?

    The forefathers are gone—woe to the sons!

  6. حلّق المَجد بِهُم ثُمَ هَوى

    وَاِنثَنى ينشدهم لَما اِنثَنى

    Glory soared with them, then fell,

    And turned back, seeking them as it returned.

  7. أَيُّها المَوسم هَل أَنتَ سِوى

    صورة المَجد الَّذي كانَ لَنا

    O festival, are you anything but

    An image of the glory that was ours?

  8. يا شَواظ الحَرب تَرمي بشرر

    يَترك الآفاق في لَون الدَم

    O blaze of war, you cast sparks

    That leave the horizons the color of blood.

  9. يا لَظى حطين نَشوى بِالظفر

    يا صَلاح الدين اخلد وَانعم

    O flame of Hattin, intoxicated with victory,

    O Salah al-Din, live forever and enjoy bliss!

  10. لَكَ في التاريخ أَيام غرر

    كَتبت بِالسَيف لا بِالقَلَم

    You have illustrious days in history,

    Which you inscribed with the sword, not with the pen.

  11. فَرَواها الدَهر فيما قَد رَوى

    فَاِسمَعوها وَاِجعَلوها سننا

    So Time recounted them among the tales it told.

    So listen to them, and make them models to follow.

  12. أَيُّها المَوسم هَل أَنتَ سِوى

    صورة المَجد الَّذي كانَ لَنا

    O festival, are you anything but

    An image of the glory that was ours?