دَعِ اِستِماعَكَ ذِكرى دَيرِ سَمعانِ

فَما أَمَرَّ النَوى عَن دَيرِ مُرّانِ

Leave off listening to memories of the monastery of Simeon,

For the monastery of Mouran has not been made bitter by fate.

فيهِ شَماسَةً مِثلَ الشُموسِ إِذا

جاءوكَ بَينَ أَناجيلٍ وَصُلبانِ

In it there is a deacon like suns when

They bring you amid Gospels and crosses.

وَكُلُّ قَسٍّ كَقُسٍّ إِن تَحَدَّثَ عَن

عيسى بنِ مَريَمَ أَو موسى بنِ عِمرانِ

And every priest is like a priest; if he speaks of

Jesus son of Mary or Moses son of Amram,

وَفي الشَعانينَ مِن أَولادِ جَفنَةَ لي

ظَبيٌ يُناشِدُني أَشعارَ حَسّانِ

And among the palm trees there is to me from the children of Jafnah

A gazelle who recites to me the poems of Hassân.

لِلَّهِ لَيلَةَ بِتنا وَهوَ ثالِثُنا

مِن مُسلِمٍ وَيَهودِيٍّ وَنَصراني

By God, the night we passed with him, he being the third of us,

Of Muslim, Jew, and Christian,

وَراحَنا مِن ثَلاثٍ أَبيَضٍ يَقَقٍ

وَأَصفَرٍ فاقِعٍ أَو أَحمَرٍ قاني

And we left from the three of us—white, crackling,

Yellow, crumbling, or red, crumbling—

وَقالَ هَيّا فَقَد لاحَ الصَباحُ وَقَد

طابَ الصَبوحُ عَلى رَوحٍ وَرَيحانِ

And he said, “Come! For the dawn has shone, and the

predawn has sweetened, upon a soul and a basil,"

ما بَينَ سَطرا وَمَقرا جَنَّةٌ سَرَحَت

أَنهارُها في ظِلالِ الآسِ وَالبانِ

Between stream and meadow is an orchard whose

rivers flowed in the shade of myrtle and acacia,

يَظَلُّ مَنثورُها وَالرَوضُ مُنتَثِراً

كَأَنَّما صيغَ مِن دُرٍّ وَمُرجانِ

Its flowers sprinkled about, and the meadow strewn

As if it were molded from pearl and coral,

وَالطَيرُ تُنشِدُ في أَغضانِها سَحَراً

هَذا هُوَ العَيشُ إِلّا أَنَّهُ فانِ

And the birds chant in its boughs at dawn a magic spell:

“This is life, if only it were not fleeting!”