أرى الشطرنج لو كانت رجالا

تهزُّ صفائحاً وقناً طِوالا

If chessmen could but speak and fight,

I view the chessmen—were they living men,

Steel clanging loud in duel bright,

Brandishing broadswords and long, lofty spears,

لغادرت الثواكل معولاتٍ

بساحتنا وأطولت القتالا

The pawns would flee their servitude,

They would have left the bereaved mothers wailing

Our war a scene of wrath and blood.

Within our courts, and drawn the battle out.

ولكني أرى خشباً ضعيفاً

إذا شهد الوغى لم يَدع آلا

But I see only silent forms of wood

But I behold mere timber, frail and weak,

That make no murmur when they should;

That, witnessing the fray, raises no cry,

ولم يُصدِرن حُمراً كُنَّ بيضاً

ولم يغشين من موت ظلالا

No red Republican chargers neigh,

Nor brings back crimsoned blades that once were white,

No shadows of the grave are they.

Nor casts the darkening shadows of the grave.

فلو كنا نحارب مثل هذا

لباقينا مع الدهر الجبالا

If we but fought like this in fact,

If we but waged our battles in this guise,

Eternal would the mountains stand intact.

We would outlast the mountains through the age.