أَينَ أَزمَعتَ أَيُّهَذا الهُمامُ

نَحنُ نَبتُ الرُبى وَأَنتَ الغَمامُ

Where are you headed, O noble soul?

Where are you bound, O hero of high resolve?

We are the shoots, and you are the rain clouds.

We are the seedlings of the hills, and you the pouring clouds.

نَحنُ مَن ضايَقَ الزَمانُ لَهُ فيـ

ـكَ وَخانَتهُ قُربَكَ الأَيّامُ

We are those who find the days too narrow for them because of you,

We are those whom Time has harried for your sake, whom days betrayed despite your nearness.

Yet your nearness has betrayed them.

In the path of glory is your war and peace, your halting here and your swift departure.

في سَبيلِ العُلى قِتالُكَ وَالسِلـ

ـمُ وَهَذا المَقامُ وَالإِجذامُ

Your battle for glory, peace treaties, this position and determination

Would that we were your steeds when you ride forth, and your very tents when you alight.

Would that when you travel the tents remain,

Each day brings you a new burden of travel, a march to glory where you find your home.

لَيتَ أَنّا إِذا اِرتَحَلتَ لَكَ الخَيـ

ـلُ وَأَنّا إِذا نَزَلتَ الخِيامُ

And when you camp the cavalcade moves on!

When souls are vast and great, the bodies grow weary in their service.

Each day for you there is a new undertaking

Just so do the full moons rise above us, and just so do the mighty oceans surge.

كُلَّ يَومٍ لَكَ اِحتِمالٌ جَديدُ

وَمَسيرٌ لِلمَجدِ فيهِ مُقامُ

And, on the road to glory, a place to stay.

We are accustomed to the grace of patience, were we tested by anything but your absence.

When spirits are great,

All life you do not sweeten is but death; every sun that is not you is merely dark.

وَإِذا كانَتِ النُفوسُ كِباراً

تَعِبَت في مُرادِها الأَجسامُ

Bodies grow weary fulfilling their desires,

Dispel the gloom that dwells with us, O you with whom vast armies find their cheer.

Thus do the planets rise over us,

He who witnesses the fray with tranquil heart, as though the battle were a sacred trust,

وَكَذا تَطلُعُ البُدورُ عَلَينا

وَكَذا تَقلَقُ البُحورُ العِظامُ

And thus do the great oceans surge.

Who strikes the battalions until the neck-bones collapse upon the feet.

We are wont to kindness and patience

If he settles but an hour in a place, all harm from Time is forbidden entrance.

وَلَنا عادَةُ الجَميلِ مِنَ الصَبـ

ـرِ لَوَ أَنّا سِوى نَواكَ نُسامُ

If only we had, apart from you, tranquility.

That which the lands bring forth is joy, and what the rain-clouds pour is wine.

No living without the song of doves,

Whenever 'He has reached the limit' is said, he reveals a bounty to which the generous have found no path,

كُلُّ عَيشٍ ما لَم تُطَبهُ حِمامٌ

كُلُّ شَمسٍ ما لَم تَكُنها ظَلامُ

No sunshine but that it knows darkness,

A combat from which foes recoil in dread, a benevolence that leaves the world amazed.

Remove the desolation that is in us,

The awe of the hoped-for King, Sayf al-Dawla, acts as a sword within the hearts of men,

أَزِلِ الوَحشَةَ الَّتي عِندَنا يا

مَن بِهِ يَأنَسُ الخَميسُ اللُهامُ

O you who gives serenity to the sublime gatherings.

So the brave have naught to offer but caution, and the eloquent naught but a greeting.

He who beholds the tumult, with a heart serene as if

وَالَّذي يَشهَدُ الوَغى ساكِنَ القَلـ

ـبِ كَأَنَّ القِتالَ فيها ذِمامُ

The battle were tethered steeds;

Who attacks squadrons till the van joins the rear;

وَالَّذي يَضرِبُ الكَتائِبَ حَتّى

تَتَلاقى الفِهاقُ وَالأَقدامُ

Who, halting in a land for but an hour,

Wrongs time itself − trespass on destiny;

وَإِذا حَلَّ ساعَةً بِمَكانٍ

فَأَذاهُ عَلى الزَمانِ حَرامُ

The land where he is sown yields happiness,

The clouds wherefrom he rains pour wine;

وَالَّذي تُنبِتُ البِلادُ سُرورٌ

وَالَّذي تَمطُرُ السَحابُ مُدامُ

Whenever it was said: “We have seen the utmost of him,”

A bounty shone forth which the generous had not attained,

كُلَّما قيلَ قَد تَناهى أَرانا

كَرَماً ما اِهتَدَت إِلَيهِ الكِرامُ

A valor that adversaries fall short of,

A composure to perplex people.

وَكِفاحاً تَكِعُّ عَنهُ الأَعادي

وَاِرتِياحاً يَحارُ فيهِ الأَنامُ

The awe of the Ruler's sword in hearts

Is the blade of empire.

إِنَّما هَيبَةُ المُؤَمَّلِ سَيفِ الـ

ـدَولَةِ المَلكِ في القُلوبِ حُسامُ

Many the bold fear it,

Many the eloquent greet it.

فَكَثيرٌ مِنَ الشُجاعِ التَوَقّي

وَكَثيرٌ مِنَ البَليغِ السَلامُ