حَماكَ رَبّي ولا قَد ضَرَّكَ المَرضُ
فَالجَوهَرُ الفَردُ لا يُؤذي بِهِ العَرضُ
May my Lord protect you, and may illness never harm you.
May my Lord protect you, though illness has harmed you,
For the indivisible substance is unharmed by an accidental condition.
For the essence of the individual cannot affect the attributes.
شَكَوتَ مِن مَرضٍ وَاللَّه داركهُ
بِاللُّطفِ حتّى تَلاشى ذَلِكَ المَرَضُ
You complained of an illness, and God remedied it
You complained of illness, but God treated it gently,
With gentleness, until that illness vanished.
Until that sickness faded away.
لَمّا سَمِعنا وَمن ذا جاءَنا خَبرٌ
فَالكلُّ مِن كدرٍ وَاللَّهِ قَد مَرِضوا
When we heard, and news of this reached us,
When we heard the news, who was there that did not come?
Then everyone, by God, fell ill from distress.
All were grieved, by God they were sick.
لَكِنّهم بِاِفتِقار غبّ مَسكَنة
نَحوَ السّماءِ بِأَيدي الفَقرِ قَد نَهَضوا
But they, in need, after humble submission,
But with utter need they rose up, their hands stretched to the sky,
Rose toward heaven with the hands of poverty.
And prayed till sincerity filled their breasts,
تَضَرَّعوا يَملأُ الإِخلاصُ مُهجَتَهم
حَتّى أُجيبوا وَزالَ الهمُّ وَالحرضُ
They implored, sincerity filling their hearts,
Till they were answered, and care and grief dispelled.
Until they were answered, and worry and wasting grief vanished.
Thanks be to God, my Lord, who healed you for us,
وَالحَمدُ للَّهِ رَبّي قَد شَفاكَ لَنا
وَالحَمد منّا عَليهِ الدهرَ مفترضُ
And praise be to God: my Lord has healed you for us.
And thanks from us to Him for all time imposed.
And our praise for it is a duty for all time.
May God protect you, pride of the age, from every ill,
وَاللَّه يَحميكَ مَحل الدّهرِ مِن عللٍ
وَمِن عَوارض مِنها النّفسُ تَنقَبِضُ
And may God shield you from time's harshness, from ailments,
And from all accidents from which the soul shrinks back.
And from afflictions that make the soul shrink,
Healthy body robed in the garment of well-being,
صَحيحَ جِسمٍ كَسيّاً ثَوبَ عافِيَةٍ
طَويلَ عمرٍ وَهَذا القَصدُ وَالغَرضُ
Sound of body, clad in a robe of well-being,
Long life, and this is our hope and wish.
Long-lived—and this is the aim and purpose.
May God preserve you, O sun of the ministry, at the height of happiness,
وَاللَّه يُبقيكَ يا شَمسَ الوِزارَةِ في
أَوجِ السّعادَةِ تَعلو لَيسَ تَنخَفِضُ
And may God preserve you, O sun of the vizierate, in
Exalted, never to decline.
The zenith of happiness, rising, never descending,
In the raiment of glory, of the noblest lineage,
في حُلّةِ المَجدِ مِن أَسنى ذُرى شَرَفٍ
في دَولَةِ العِزِّ تَبقى لَيسَ تَنقَرِضُ
In glory's robe, among honor's most radiant summits,
In the state of honor, to endure, never to perish.
In the reign of might you endure, never perishing,
No star shone, no lightning flashed to show us the dawn
ما لاحَ نَجمٌ وَما بَرقٌ أَضاءَ لَنا
وَما بَدا الفَجرُ فَوقَ الأفقِ يَعترضُ
As long as a star gleams and lightning shines for us,
Rising above the horizon, crossing the zenith.
And as long as dawn appears, spreading above the horizon.
Sol 6.1