تَوَلَّى الصِّبَا عَنِّي فَكَيْفَ أُعِيدُهُ

تَوَلَّى الصِّبَا عَنِّي فَكَيْفَ أُعِيدُهُ

وَقَدْ سَارَ فِي وادِي الْفَنَاءِ بَرِيدُهُ

وَقَدْ سَارَ فِي وادِي الْفَنَاءِ بَرِيدُهُ

Youth has turned away from me; how can I bring it back?

Youth has turned away from me, so how can I win it back

Its courier has already traveled into the valley of extinction.

When its journey is towards extinction, that's where it's headed

أُحَاوِلُ مِنْهُ رَجْعَةً بَعْدَ ما مَضَى

أُحَاوِلُ مِنْهُ رَجْعَةً بَعْدَ ما مَضَى

وذَلِكَ رَأْيٌ غَابَ عَنِّي سَدِيدُهُ

وذَلِكَ رَأْيٌ غَابَ عَنِّي سَدِيدُهُ

I seek its return after it has passed,

I'm trying to get it to return after its departure

Yet the soundness of that notion eludes me.

But that's an idea that's evaded me, slipped from my grasp

فَمَا كُلُّ جَفْرٍ غَاضَ يَرْتَدُّ نَبْعُهُ

فَمَا كُلُّ جَفْرٍ غَاضَ يَرْتَدُّ نَبْعُهُ

وَلا كُلُّ سَاقٍ جَفَّ يَخْضَرُّ عُودُهُ

وَلا كُلُّ سَاقٍ جَفَّ يَخْضَرُّ عُودُهُ

For not every well that runs dry regains its spring,

Not every dried river will flow again

Nor does the wood of every withered stem turn green again.

Nor every withered branch turn green once more

فَإِنْ أَكُ فَارَقْتُ الشَّبَابَ فَقَبْلَهُ

فَإِنْ أَكُ فَارَقْتُ الشَّبَابَ فَقَبْلَهُ

بَكَيْتُ رَضَاعاً بَانَ عَنِّي حَمِيدُهُ

بَكَيْتُ رَضَاعاً بَانَ عَنِّي حَمِيدُهُ

If I have parted from youth, before it

If I've parted with my youth, I wept over its loss

I mourned suckling, whose sweetness had left me.

Since the time it nursed me, its goodness nurtured me

وَأَيُّ شَبَابٍ لا يَزُولُ نَعِيمُهُ

وَأَيُّ شَبَابٍ لا يَزُولُ نَعِيمُهُ

وَسِرْبالِ عَيْشٍ لَيْسَ يَبْلَى جَدِيدُهُ

وَسِرْبالِ عَيْشٍ لَيْسَ يَبْلَى جَدِيدُهُ

What youth is there whose bliss does not fade?

What youth doesn't fade, its pleasures ephemeral

And what robe of life does not wear out, however new?

What life's finery doesn't wear out or tear?

فَلا غَرْوَ أَنْ شَابَتْ مِنَ الْحُزْنِ لِمَّتِي

فَلا غَرْوَ أَنْ شَابَتْ مِنَ الْحُزْنِ لِمَّتِي

فَإِنِّيَ فِي دَهْرٍ يَشِيبُ وَلِيدُهُ

فَإِنِّيَ فِي دَهْرٍ يَشِيبُ وَلِيدُهُ

No wonder, then, that sorrow has turned my locks gray,

So it's no wonder that sorrow has made my hair turn white

For I live in an age whose newborn turns gray.

For I live in an age that makes the young grow old

يُهَدِّمُ مِنْ أَجْسَادِنَا مَا يَشِيدُهُ

يُهَدِّمُ مِنْ أَجْسَادِنَا مَا يَشِيدُهُ

وَيَنْقُصُ مِنْ أَنْفَاسِنَا مَا يَزِيدُهُ

وَيَنْقُصُ مِنْ أَنْفَاسِنَا مَا يَزِيدُهُ

It tears down in our bodies what it builds,

It destroys what it builds of our bodies over time

And subtracts from our breaths what it adds.

And diminishes the breath it helps provide

أَرَى كُلَّ شَيءٍ لا يَدُومُ فَمَا الَّذِي

أَرَى كُلَّ شَيءٍ لا يَدُومُ فَمَا الَّذِي

يَنَالُ امْرُؤٌ مِنْ حُبِّ مَا لا يُفِيدُهُ

يَنَالُ امْرُؤٌ مِنْ حُبِّ مَا لا يُفِيدُهُ

I see that nothing lasts; what, then,

I see all things impermanent, nothing remains

Does a person gain by loving what brings him no benefit?

So what can a man gain from loving what won't help him?

وَلَكِنَّ نَفْساً رُبَّمَا اهْتَاجَ شَوْقُهَا

وَلَكِنَّ نَفْساً رُبَّمَا اهْتَاجَ شَوْقُهَا

فَحَنَّتْ وَقَلْباً رُبَّمَا اعْتَادَ عِيدُهُ

فَحَنَّتْ وَقَلْباً رُبَّمَا اعْتَادَ عِيدُهُ

Yet a soul's longing sometimes surges,

Yet a soul may sometimes yearn ardently

So it yearns, and a heart's recurring sorrow sometimes returns.

And a heart maybe used to celebrating a feast

فَوَا حَسْرَتَا كَمْ زَفْرَةٍ إِثْرَ لَوْعَةٍ

فَوَا حَسْرَتَا كَمْ زَفْرَةٍ إِثْرَ لَوْعَةٍ

إِذَا عَصَفَتْ بِالْقَلْبِ كادَتْ تُبيدُهُ

إِذَا عَصَفَتْ بِالْقَلْبِ كادَتْ تُبيدُهُ

Alas, my sorrow! How many a sigh after a pang,

Oh what regrets after each stifled sob

When it sweeps through the heart, comes close to destroying it!

When sorrow rages in the heart, almost destroying it

أَحِنُّ إِلَى وادِي النَّقَا ويَسُرُّنِي

أَحِنُّ إِلَى وادِي النَّقَا ويَسُرُّنِي

عَلَى بُعْدِهِ أَنْ تَسْتَهِلَّ سُعُودُهُ

عَلَى بُعْدِهِ أَنْ تَسْتَهِلَّ سُعُودُهُ

I yearn for the valley of al-Naqa, and rejoice,

I yearn for the valley of al-Naqa and it pleases me

Despite its distance, when its lucky stars rise.

From afar to hear the twittering of its wild ducks

وَأَصْدُقُهُ وُدِّي وإِنْ كُنْتُ عَالِماً

وَأَصْدُقُهُ وُدِّي وإِنْ كُنْتُ عَالِماً

بِأَنَّ النَّقَا لَمْ يَدْنُ مِنِّي بَعِيدُهُ

بِأَنَّ النَّقَا لَمْ يَدْنُ مِنِّي بَعِيدُهُ

I give it my sincere affection, though I know

I'm true in my love for it, though I know full well

That al-Naqa's distant reaches have not drawn near to me.

That the valley of al-Naqa hasn't come near me

مَعَانُ هَوىً تَجْرِي بِدَمْعِي وِهَادُهُ

مَعَانُ هَوىً تَجْرِي بِدَمْعِي وِهَادُهُ

وتُشْرِقُ مِنْ نِيرانِ قَلْبِي نُجُودُهُ

وتُشْرِقُ مِنْ نِيرانِ قَلْبِي نُجُودُهُ

A dwelling of love, its lowlands flow with my tears,

The wellsprings of passion flow with my tears

And its highlands glow from the fires of my heart.

Its fires blaze in the depths of my heart

تَضِنُّ بِإِهْدَاءِ السَّلامِ ظِباؤُهُ

تَضِنُّ بِإِهْدَاءِ السَّلامِ ظِباؤُهُ

وتُكْرِمُ مَثْوَى الطَّارِقِينَ أُسُودُهُ

وتُكْرِمُ مَثْوَى الطَّارِقِينَ أُسُودُهُ

Its gazelles begrudge the gift of a greeting,

Its thickets are too stingy to offer greetings

And its lions grant night visitors an honored stay.

While its lions are generous hosts to visitors

تَسَاهَمَ فِيهِ الْبَأْسُ والْحُسْنُ فَاسْتَوَتْ

تَسَاهَمَ فِيهِ الْبَأْسُ والْحُسْنُ فَاسْتَوَتْ

ضَرَاغِمُهُ عِنْدَ اللِّقَاءِ وغِيدُهُ

ضَرَاغِمُهُ عِنْدَ اللِّقَاءِ وغِيدُهُ

Valor and beauty shared it, so equal were

In it valor and beauty are equal

Its lions and its graceful maidens in encounters.

Calamities and glory go hand in hand

تَلاقَتْ بِهِ أَسْيَافُهُ وَلِحَاظُهُ

تَلاقَتْ بِهِ أَسْيَافُهُ وَلِحَاظُهُ

وَمالَتْ بِهِ أَرْمَاحُهُ وقُدُودُهُ

وَمالَتْ بِهِ أَرْمَاحُهُ وقُدُودُهُ

There its swords and its sidelong glances meet,

Within it swords and armor meet

And there its lances and its slender figures sway.

And spears and steeds charge straight ahead

فَكَمْ مِنْ صَرِيعٍ لا تُدَاوَى جِرَاحُهُ

فَكَمْ مِنْ صَرِيعٍ لا تُدَاوَى جِرَاحُهُ

وَكَمْ مِنْ أَسِيرٍ لا تُحَلُّ قُيُودُهُ

وَكَمْ مِنْ أَسِيرٍ لا تُحَلُّ قُيُودُهُ

How many a fallen one whose wounds cannot be healed,

So many casualties beyond healing their wounds

And how many a captive whose bonds cannot be undone!

So many prisoners with unbreakable shackles

وَفي الْحَيِّ ظَبْيٌ إِنْ تَرَنَّمْتُ بِاسْمِهِ

وَفي الْحَيِّ ظَبْيٌ إِنْ تَرَنَّمْتُ بِاسْمِهِ

تَنَمَّرَ وَاشِيهِ وَهَاجَ حَسُودُهُ

تَنَمَّرَ وَاشِيهِ وَهَاجَ حَسُودُهُ

And in the tribe is a gazelle: if I sing its name,

If in the encampment I speak its name fondly

Its talebearer turns fierce, and its envier rages.

Jealous rivals attack and haters fume

تَهِيمُ بِهِ أَسْتَارُهُ وخُدُورُهُ

تَهِيمُ بِهِ أَسْتَارُهُ وخُدُورُهُ

وَتَعْشَقُهُ أَقْرَاطُهُ وَعُقُودُهُ

وَتَعْشَقُهُ أَقْرَاطُهُ وَعُقُودُهُ

Its veils and secluded chambers are enamored of it,

Smitten are its veils and tents

And its earrings and necklaces adore it.

Its earrings and necklaces drunk with infatuation

تَأَنَّقَ فِيهِ الْحُسْنُ فَامْتَدَّ فَرْعُهُ

تَأَنَّقَ فِيهِ الْحُسْنُ فَامْتَدَّ فَرْعُهُ

إِلَى قَدَمَيْهِ واسْتَدَارَتْ نُهُودُهُ

إِلَى قَدَمَيْهِ واسْتَدَارَتْ نُهُودُهُ

Beauty lavished its artistry on it, so its tresses grew

In it beauty is adorned, flourishing to its feet

Down to its feet, and its breasts became round.

Its bracelets encircling, round as the full moon

فَلِلْمِسْكِ رَيَّاهُ ولِلْبَانِ قَدُّهُ

فَلِلْمِسْكِ رَيَّاهُ ولِلْبَانِ قَدُّهُ

وَلِلْوَرْدِ خَدَّاهُ وَللظَّبْيِ جِيدُهُ

وَلِلْوَرْدِ خَدَّاهُ وَللظَّبْيِ جِيدُهُ

Its fragrance is musk's, its stature the ban tree's,

To musk is its scent, to ambergris its aura

Its cheeks the rose's, and its neck the gazelle's.

To the rose its cheeks, to the gazelle its neck

فَإِيَّاكَ أَنْ تَغْتَرَّ يَا صَاحِ بِالْهَوَى

فَإِيَّاكَ أَنْ تَغْتَرَّ يَا صَاحِ بِالْهَوَى

فَإِنَّ الرَّدَى حِلْف الْهَوَى وَعَقِيدُهُ

فَإِنَّ الرَّدَى حِلْف الْهَوَى وَعَقِيدُهُ

Beware, my friend, of being deceived by love,

So beware lest passion makes you reckless

For death is love's ally and sworn companion.

For loss of reason is love's pact and its creed

وَمَا أَنَا مِمَّنْ يَرْهَبُ المَوْتَ إِنْ سَطَا

وَمَا أَنَا مِمَّنْ يَرْهَبُ المَوْتَ إِنْ سَطَا

إِذَا لَمْ تَكُنْ نُجْلَ الْعُيُونِ شُهُودُهُ

إِذَا لَمْ تَكُنْ نُجْلَ الْعُيُونِ شُهُودُهُ

I am not one who fears death when it strikes,

Nor am I one to fear death should it approach

If wide eyes are not its witnesses.

If the eyes of maidens aren't there as witnesses

أَفُلُّ أَنَابِيبَ الْقَنَا ويَفُلُّني

أَفُلُّ أَنَابِيبَ الْقَنَا ويَفُلُّني

قَوَامٌ تَنَدَّتْ بِالْعَبِيرِ بُرُودُهُ

قَوَامٌ تَنَدَّتْ بِالْعَبِيرِ بُرُودُهُ

I break spear-shafts, yet what breaks me is

I may wilt but still a figure remains erect

A figure whose striped robes are dewy with perfume.

Whose cloak exudes fragrance from emerald dye

فَإِنْ أَنَا سَالَمْتُ الْهَوَى فَلَطَالَمَا

فَإِنْ أَنَا سَالَمْتُ الْهَوَى فَلَطَالَمَا

شَهِدْتُ الْوَغَى وَالطَّعْنُ يَذْكُو وَقُودُهُ

شَهِدْتُ الْوَغَى وَالطَّعْنُ يَذْكُو وَقُودُهُ

If I have made peace with love, how often have I

If a purpose rouses me towards a goal

Witnessed battle while the fuel of spear-thrusting blazed.

I head out in a convoy that I'm leading

وَتَحْتَ جَنَاحِ الدِّرْعِ مِنِّي ابْنُ فَتْكَةٍ

وَتَحْتَ جَنَاحِ الدِّرْعِ مِنِّي ابْنُ فَتْكَةٍ

مُعَوَّدَةٌ أَلَّا تُحَطَّ لُبُودُهُ

مُعَوَّدَةٌ أَلَّا تُحَطَّ لُبُودُهُ

Beneath the wing of my armor is a son of deadly assault,

To a battlefield where the whinnying of horses

Trained never to have his saddle-felts removed.

Terrifies the cowards and makes the valiant proud

إِذَا حَرَّكَتْهُ هِمَّةٌ نَحْوَ غايَةٍ

إِذَا حَرَّكَتْهُ هِمَّةٌ نَحْوَ غايَةٍ

تَسَامَى إِلَيْهَا فِي رَعِيلٍ يَقُودُهُ

تَسَامَى إِلَيْهَا فِي رَعِيلٍ يَقُودُهُ

When ambition stirs him toward a goal,

High above the carnage my eagle swoops down

He rises toward it amid a troop he leads.

Devouring corpses while its master looks on

ومُعْتَرَكٍ لِلْخَيْلِ فِي جَنَبَاتِهِ

ومُعْتَرَكٍ لِلْخَيْلِ فِي جَنَبَاتِهِ

صَهِيلٌ يَهُدُّ الرَّاسِيَاتِ وَئِيدُهُ

صَهِيلٌ يَهُدُّ الرَّاسِيَاتِ وَئِيدُهُ

And many a battlefield, where the horses along its flanks have

My swords rain down upon the skulls of warriors

A neighing whose rumble shatters the steadfast mountains;

And my banners flutter between the two hosts

بَعِيدِ سَماءِ النَّقْعِ يَنْقَضُّ نَسْرُهُ

بَعِيدِ سَماءِ النَّقْعِ يَنْقَضُّ نَسْرُهُ

عَلَى جُثَثِ الْقَتْلَى ويَنْغَلُّ سِيدُهُ

عَلَى جُثَثِ الْقَتْلَى ويَنْغَلُّ سِيدُهُ

With a towering sky of dust, its vulture swoops

When spears clash and retreat disheartened

On the bodies of the slain, and its wolf slips among them.

From a victory whose pillars shine bright as beacons

تَرِفُّ عَلَى هَامِ الكُمَاةِ سُيُوفُهُ

تَرِفُّ عَلَى هَامِ الكُمَاةِ سُيُوفُهُ

وَتَخْفُقُ بَيْنَ الْجَحْفَلَيْنِ بُنُودُهُ

وَتَخْفُقُ بَيْنَ الْجَحْفَلَيْنِ بُنُودُهُ

Its swords flutter above the armored warriors' heads,

I plunged in with my spear thirsty for more

And its banners flap between the two great armies.

As death kept its promise and fulfilled its threats

إِذَا اشْتَجَرَتْ فِيهِ الرِّماحُ تَراجَعَتْ

إِذَا اشْتَجَرَتْ فِيهِ الرِّماحُ تَراجَعَتْ

سَوَافِرَ عَنْ نَصْرٍ يُضِيءُ عَمُودُهُ

سَوَافِرَ عَنْ نَصْرٍ يُضِيءُ عَمُودُهُ

When the spears cross there, they draw back

I was but the rain whose lightning flashed

Unveiling a victory whose pillar shines.

I was but the thunder whose rumbling roared

تَقَحَّمْتُهُ والرُّمْحُ صَدْيانُ يَنْتَحي

تَقَحَّمْتُهُ والرُّمْحُ صَدْيانُ يَنْتَحي

نِطافَ الْكُلَى والْمَوْتُ يَمْضِي وَعِيدُهُ

نِطافَ الْكُلَى والْمَوْتُ يَمْضِي وَعِيدُهُ

I plunged into it, my thirsty spear seeking

I'm the man of action who lives up to his word

The kidneys' fluids, while death's threat comes to pass.

When the people's pact has its knots unbound

فَمَا كُنْتُ إِلَّا الْغَيثَ طَارَتْ بُروقُهُ

فَمَا كُنْتُ إِلَّا الْغَيثَ طَارَتْ بُروقُهُ

ومَا كُنْتُ إِلَّا الرَّعْدَ دَوَّى هَدِيدُهُ

ومَا كُنْتُ إِلَّا الرَّعْدَ دَوَّى هَدِيدُهُ

I was nothing but the rainstorm, its lightning flashes darting,

I'm accustomed to speaking truthfully so even if

And nothing but thunder, its crashing rumble resounding.

I pretended otherwise I'd be no good at it

أَنَا الرَّجُلُ الْمَشْفُوعُ بِالْفِعْلِ قَوْلُهُ

أَنَا الرَّجُلُ الْمَشْفُوعُ بِالْفِعْلِ قَوْلُهُ

إِذَا ما عَقِيدُ الْقَوْمِ رَثَّتْ عُقُودُهُ

إِذَا ما عَقِيدُ الْقَوْمِ رَثَّتْ عُقُودُهُ

I am the man whose words are backed by deeds,

I laugh in faces though bitterness may shroud them

When the people's leader's covenants grow threadbare.

Knowing their hearts conceal simmering grudges

تَعَوَّدْتُ صِدْقَ الْقَوْلِ حَتَّى لَوَ انَّنِي

تَعَوَّدْتُ صِدْقَ الْقَوْلِ حَتَّى لَوَ انَّنِي

تَكَلَّفْتُ قَوْلاً غَيْرَهُ لا أُجِيدُهُ

تَكَلَّفْتُ قَوْلاً غَيْرَهُ لا أُجِيدُهُ

I am so accustomed to truthful speech that, were I

Whoever doesn't get along with people becomes estranged

To force myself to speak otherwise, I could not do it well.

Shunned by their tribe and its chief rejects them

أُضَاحِكُ وَجْهَ الْمَرْءِ يَغْشَاهُ بِشْرُهُ

أُضَاحِكُ وَجْهَ الْمَرْءِ يَغْشَاهُ بِشْرُهُ

وأَعْلَمُ أَنَّ الْقَلْبَ تَغْلِي حُقُودُهُ

وأَعْلَمُ أَنَّ الْقَلْبَ تَغْلِي حُقُودُهُ

I exchange smiles with a man's face, wreathed in cheer,

So whose stinginess can I rely on or call close

And know that his heart's grudges are boiling.

When hardly a glimmer of hope remains?

وَمَنْ لَمْ يُدارِ النَّاسَ عَادَاهُ صَحْبُهُ

وَمَنْ لَمْ يُدارِ النَّاسَ عَادَاهُ صَحْبُهُ

وَأَنْكَرَهُ مِنْ قَوْمِهِ مَنْ يَسُودُهُ

وَأَنْكَرَهُ مِنْ قَوْمِهِ مَنْ يَسُودُهُ

Whoever does not deal tactfully with people finds his companions hostile,

I seek affection though not of the treacherous kind

And the leader of his people disowns him.

And less than what I hope for is not what I want

فَمَنْ لِي بِخِلٍّ أَسْتَعِينُ بِقُرْبِهِ

فَمَنْ لِي بِخِلٍّ أَسْتَعِينُ بِقُرْبِهِ

عَلَى أَمَلٍ لَمْ يَبْقَ إِلَّا شَرِيدُهُ

عَلَى أَمَلٍ لَمْ يَبْقَ إِلَّا شَرِيدُهُ

Who, then, can bring me a friend whose nearness will help me

Long ago I heard tales exalting loyalty

Toward a hope of which only a fugitive remnant remains?

If only I knew in life where now its spirit dwells

أُحَاوِلُ وُدَّاً لا يُشَانُ بِغَدْرَةٍ

أُحَاوِلُ وُدَّاً لا يُشَانُ بِغَدْرَةٍ

ودُونَ الَّذِي أَرْجُوهُ مَا لا أُرِيدُهُ

ودُونَ الَّذِي أَرْجُوهُ مَا لا أُرِيدُهُ

I seek affection unsullied by betrayal,

If I have no friend then I'm still my own

Yet what I do not want stands before what I hope for.

My vows to myself won't be broken or betrayed

سَمِعْتُ قَدِيماً بِالْوَفَاءِ فَلَيْتَنِي

سَمِعْتُ قَدِيماً بِالْوَفَاءِ فَلَيْتَنِي

عَلِمْتُ عَلَى الأَيَّامِ أَيْنَ وُجُودُهُ

عَلِمْتُ عَلَى الأَيَّامِ أَيْنَ وُجُودُهُ

Long ago I heard of loyalty; would that I

It's enough that one's reason is the best companion

Had learned, through the days, where it can be found!

To aid in every peril that arises

فَإِنْ أَنَا لَمْ أَمْلِكْ صَدِيقاً فَإِنَّني

فَإِنْ أَنَا لَمْ أَمْلِكْ صَدِيقاً فَإِنَّني

لِنَفسِي صَدِيقٌ لا تَخِيسُ عُهُودُهُ

لِنَفسِي صَدِيقٌ لا تَخِيسُ عُهُودُهُ

If I have no friend, then I

If one finds no ally in their own nature

Am my own friend, whose pledges never fail.

Then resolve to disappoint hopes pinned on you

وَحَسْبُ الفَتَى مِنْ رَأْيِهِ خَيْرُ صَاحِبٍ

وَحَسْبُ الفَتَى مِنْ رَأْيِهِ خَيْرُ صَاحِبٍ

يُوازِرُهُ فِي كُلِّ خَطْبٍ يَؤُودُهُ

يُوازِرُهُ فِي كُلِّ خَطْبٍ يَؤُودُهُ

A man's judgment suffices him as his best companion,

Though I'm alone I'm a clan that will endure

Supporting him in every calamity that weighs him down.

No outcast abandoned, each one protected

إِذَا لَمْ يَكُنْ لِلْمَرءِ مِنْ بَدَهَاتِهِ

إِذَا لَمْ يَكُنْ لِلْمَرءِ مِنْ بَدَهَاتِهِ

نَصِيرٌ فَأَخْلِقْ أَنْ تَخِيبَ جُدُودُهُ

نَصِيرٌ فَأَخْلِقْ أَنْ تَخِيبَ جُدُودُهُ

If a man finds in his own quick wit

I have such eloquent poetry that if recited

No ally, then his fortunes are likely to fail.

To a mountain, its rocks would melt away

وإِنِّي وَإِنْ أَصْبَحْتُ فَرْدَاً فَإِنَّنِي

وإِنِّي وَإِنْ أَصْبَحْتُ فَرْدَاً فَإِنَّنِي

بِنَفْسِي عَشِيرٌ لَيْسَ يَنْجُو طَرِيدُهُ

بِنَفْسِي عَشِيرٌ لَيْسَ يَنْجُو طَرِيدُهُ

Though I have become solitary, I

When it intensifies warfare's hottest flames

Am a clan in myself, whose quarry cannot escape.

Or softens to sighs bound in meters

وَلِي مِنْ بَدِيعِ الشِّعْرِ مَا لَوْ تَلَوْتُهُ

وَلِي مِنْ بَدِيعِ الشِّعْرِ مَا لَوْ تَلَوْتُهُ

عَلَى جَبَلٍ لانْهَالَ فِي الدَوِّ رَيْدُهُ

عَلَى جَبَلٍ لانْهَالَ فِي الدَوِّ رَيْدُهُ

I have such wondrous poetry that, were I to recite it

It slices through the breeze when it flows

Upon a mountain, its jutting ridge would crumble into the wilderness.

And outstrips the cadence of chanting voices

إِذَا اشْتَدَّ أَوْرَى زَنْدَةَ الْحَرْبِ لَفْظُهُ

إِذَا اشْتَدَّ أَوْرَى زَنْدَةَ الْحَرْبِ لَفْظُهُ

وَإِنْ رَقَّ أَزْرَى بِالْعُقُودِ فَرِيدُهُ

وَإِنْ رَقَّ أَزْرَى بِالْعُقُودِ فَرِيدُهُ

When it grows fierce, its words ignite the fire-stick of war,

If sung by a vocalist in a musical mode

And when tender, its peerless pearl puts necklaces to shame.

Its refrain suffices, no more melodies needed

يُقَطِّعُ أَنْفَاسَ الرِّياحِ إِذَا سَرَى

يُقَطِّعُ أَنْفَاسَ الرِّياحِ إِذَا سَرَى

وَيَسْبِقُ شَأْوَ النَّيِّرَيْنِ قَصِيدُهُ

وَيَسْبِقُ شَأْوَ النَّيِّرَيْنِ قَصِيدُهُ

It cuts off the winds' breaths when it travels by night,

Through it my name will last eternally

And its verse outruns the course of sun and moon.

For a man's legacy after death is his immortality

إِذَا ما تَلاهُ مُنْشِدٌ في مَقَامةٍ

إِذَا ما تَلاهُ مُنْشِدٌ في مَقَامةٍ

كَفَى الْقَوْمَ تَرْجِيعَ الْغِنَاءِ نَشِيدُهُ

كَفَى الْقَوْمَ تَرْجِيعَ الْغِنَاءِ نَشِيدُهُ

When a reciter declaims it in an assembly,

Its chant suffices the people in place of trilling song.

سَيَبْقَى بِهِ ذِكْرِي عَلَى الدَّهْرِ خَالِداً

سَيَبْقَى بِهِ ذِكْرِي عَلَى الدَّهْرِ خَالِداً

وذِكْرُ الْفَتَى بَعْدَ الْمَمَاتِ خُلُودُهُ

وذِكْرُ الْفَتَى بَعْدَ الْمَمَاتِ خُلُودُهُ

Through it my memory will remain immortal through the ages,

And a man's remembrance after death is his immortality.