لَو شِئتِ أَقصَرتِ مِن لَومي وَمِن عَذَلي

فَالدَهرُ قَسَّمَ يَومَيهِ عَلَيَّ وَلي

If you had wished, you would have shortened my blame and my rebuke

For fate has divided its days against me

لا تَحسَبِيني أَغُضُّ الطَرفَ مِن جَزَعٍ

فَالحُزنُ لِلخَودِ لَيسَ الحُزنُ لِلرَّجُلِ

Do not think I turn my eyes away out of despair

For sadness is for the cheek, not for the man

كَم قَد عَرَتني مِنَ الأَيّامِ نائِبَةٌ

فَما اكتَرَثتُ لِرَيبِ الحادِثِ الجَلَلِ

How many tribulations have unveiled me

Yet I did not care for the doubt of the momentous event

إِنّا لَقَومٌ إِذا اِشتَدَّ الزَمانُ بِنا

كُنّا أَشَدَّ أَنابيباً مِن الأَسَلِ

We are a people, when times get tough on us

We become tougher than lions in our dens

يُبكى عَلَينا وَلا نَبكي عَلى أَحَدٍ

لَنَحنُ أَغلَظُ أَكباداً مِنَ الإِبِلِ

We are cried upon, and do not cry for anyone

For we are harder in our hearts than camels

مِن مَعشَرٍ تَعصِفُ الأَهوالُ حَولَهُمُ

فَما يُراعُونَ عَصفَ الريحِ بِالجَبَلِ

Of a people, calamities whirl around them

Yet they do not heed the wind's gust on the mountain

خَيرُ الوَرى آلُ مِرداسٍ وَأَطهَرُهُم

مِنَ العُيوبِ وَأَبراهُم مِنَ الزَلَلِ

The best of all people are the family of Mirdas, and the purest of them

Of shortcomings, and the most righteous of slipups

إِن تَلقَهُم تَلقَ مِنهُم في مَجالِسِهِم

شُمَّ العَرانين ضَرّابينَ لِلقُلَلِ

If you meet them, you smell from them in their sittings

The smell of youths, pounding on peaks

بِيضُ الوُجُوهِ إِذا لاحَت وَجُهوهُهُمُ

في حِندِسِ اللَيلِ جَلَّوا ظُلمَةَ الطَفَلِ

White of face, when their faces shine

In the darkness of night, they illuminate the darkness of the lost child

لا يَقلَقُونَ لِخَطبٍ مِن زَمانِهُم

ولا يَبيتُونَ سُهّاداً مِنَ الوَجَلِ

They are not disturbed by tribulations from their time

Nor do they stay up at night fretting

وَلا تَراهُم وَنارُ الخَطبِ مُوقَدَةٌ

صُمّاً إِذا ما دَعى الداعي مِنَ الفَشَلِ

You do not see them when the fire of tribulation is kindled

Deaf when the caller calls from adversity

رُوحي فِدىً لَهُمُ قَوماً إِذا وُزِنُوا

مالوا عَلى الناسِ مَيلَ الحَلي بِالعَطَلِ

My soul is ransom for them, a people, if weighed

Would lean over people, like a smooth pearl on a thread

يا أَكرَمَ الناسِ مِن عُربٍ وَمِن عَجَمٍ

وَأَشجَعَ الناسِ مِن حافٍ وَمُنتَعِلٍ

O most generous of people, of Arabs and non-Arabs

And bravest of people, armed and unarmed

أَنتَ الغَمامُ الَّذي يَهمي بِلا ضَجَرٍ

أَنتَ الجَوادُ الَّذي يُعطي بِلا بُخُلِ

You are the cloud that storms without fatigue

You are the stallion that gives without stinginess

أَنتَ الَّذي ما جَلَبتَ الخَيلَ ساهِمَةً

إِلّا وَزَلزَلتَ أَهلَ السَهلِ وَالجَبَلِ

You are the one who never brought horses charging

Except shaking the people of plains and mountains

لَو كانَ يُمكِنُ أَن نَخباكَ مِن أَلَمٍ

يُخشى خَبَيناكَ في الأَحداقِ وَالمُقَلِ

If it were possible to spare you of pain

We would have spared you in the pupils and eyelashes

يَفدي المُعِزَّ رِجالٌ قَلَّ خَيرُهُمُ

كَما يَقِلُّ نَباتُ الماءِ في الوَشَلِ

The protected are ransomed by men whose goodness is little

Just as the growth of water is little in barren land

لَيتَ المُلوكَ لَهُ مِمّا عَرا بَدلٌ

وَإِن هُمُ لَم يُساوُوا قِيمَةَ البَدَلِ

If only the kings had compensation for what passed you

Yet they do not equal the value of compensation