حَتّامَ نَحنُ نُساري النَجمَ في الظُلَمِ

وَما سُراهُ عَلى خُفٍّ وَلا قَدَمِ

We ride the stars in darkness

How long must we journey with the stars through the gloom,

Though we do not mount a saddle or step

Though they tread not on hoof nor wander on foot?

وَلا يُحِسُّ بِأَجفانٍ يُحِسُّ بِها

فَقدَ الرُقادِ غَريبٌ باتَ لَم يَنَمِ

Nor feel eyelids that feel

Nor do they feel the weight of eyelids, heavy with the strain

A wakeful stranger who slept without sleep

Of a stranger’s lost slumber, awake while the night is mute.

تُسَوِّدُ الشَمسُ مِنّا بيضَ أَوجُهِنا

وَلا تُسَوِّدُ بيضَ العُذرِ وَاللِمَمِ

The sun blackens the white of our faces

The fierce sun scorches the whiteness of our faces,

But does not blacken the white of excuse and blame

Yet fails to darken the white of our honor or our aging hair.

وَكانَ حالُهُما في الحُكمِ واحِدَةً

لَوِ اِحتَكَمنا مِنَ الدُنيا إِلى حَكَمِ

Their state was the same in judgment

Their fate should by rights have been the same,

If we had appealed from the world to an arbiter

Had we sought justice from a judge in this unjust world.

وَنَترُكُ الماءَ لا يَنفَكُّ مِن سَفَرٍ

ما سارَ في الغَيمِ مِنهُ سارَ في الأَدَمِ

And we leave water that does not cease from travel

We leave the water behind, and still it travels on—

What traveled in cloud traveled in blood

What once rode the clouds now rides in our leather skins.

لا أُبغِضُ العيسَ لَكِنّي وَقَيتُ بِها

قَلبي مِنَ الحُزنِ أَو جِسمي مِنَ السَقَمِ

I do not hate the staff but I avoided through it

I bear no hatred for the camels, yet I used them as a shield,

My heart from sorrow or my body from sickness

To guard my heart from sorrow, or my body from disease.

طَرَدتُ مِن مِصرَ أَيديها بِأَرجُلِها

حَتّى مَرَقنَ بِنا مِن جَوشَ وَالعَلَمِ

I chased their hands in Egypt with their feet

I drove their forelegs with their hindlegs out of Egypt’s lands,

Until we slipped away from turbulent Gosh and standards

Until they pierced through Jawsh and Mount Al-Alam.

تَبري لَهُنَّ نَعامُ الدَوِّ مُسرَجَةً

تُعارِضُ الجُدُلَ المُرخاةَ بِاللُجُمِ

The ostriches of Al-Daw parade for them

The desert ostriches race alongside them, as if saddled,

Rivaling the swaying braids with ostrich eggs

Matching the braided reins that hang loose from the bit.

في غِلمَةٍ أَخطَروا أَرواحَهُم وَرَضوا

بِما لَقينَ رِضا الأَيسارِ بِالزَلَمِ

In a raid they risked their souls and were content

Amidst young men who wagered their very souls, content

With what the left hands met of wounds

With their fate, like gamblers pleased with the casting of arrows.

تَبدو لَنا كُلَّما أَلقَوا عَمائِمَهُم

عَمائِمٌ خُلِقَت سوداً بِلا لُثُمِ

Whenever they cast their turbans

Whenever they cast off their turbans, there appear to us

Turbans seemed created black without stripes

Turbans created black by nature, requiring no veil.

بيضُ العَوارِضِ طَعّانونَ مَن لَحِقوا

مِنَ الفَوارِسِ شَلّالونَ لِلنَعَمِ

The white brows jabbing those they caught up with

With gleaming smiles, they are fierce piercers of those they overtake,

Of the horsemen paralyzing for the ostriches

Among horsemen, and swift drivers of the captured herds.

قَد بَلَّغوا بِقَناهُم فَوقَ طاقَتِهِ

وَلَيسَ يَبلُغُ ما فيهِم مِنَ الهِمَمِ

They reached with their spears beyond capacity

With their spears, they have achieved beyond all measure,

And what courage lies in them does not reach limits

Yet the spear tip falls short of the ambition in their souls.

في الجاهِلِيَّةِ إِلّا أَنَّ أَنفُسَهُم

مِن طيبِهِنَّ بِهِ في الأَشهُرِ الحُرُمِ

Except that their souls in the sacred months

They possess the spirit of the Jahiliyyah, save that their souls

Are of their perfume which permeates them

Remain pure as if dwelling in the Sacred Months.

ناشوا الرِماحَ وَكانَت غَيرَ ناطِقَةٍ

فَعَلَّموها صِياحَ الطَيرِ في البُهَمِ

They brandished spears though they did not speak

They took up spears that were mute and silent,

So they taught them the birds’ screams in the haze

And taught them to shriek like birds of prey amidst the fray.

تَخدي الرِكابُ بِنا بيضاً مَشافِرُها

خُضراً فَراسِنُها في الرُغلِ وَاليَنَمِ

Our mounts take us white whose hooves

The mounts trot with us, their lips parched white,

Are green, their horseshoes in fetters and blinkers

While their hooves are stained green from the desert scrub.

مَكعومَةً بِسِياطِ القَومِ نَضرِبُها

عَن مَنبِتِ العُشبِ نَبغي مَنبِتَ الكَرَمِ

Goaded by the whips of the tribe we drive them

We muzzle them, striking them with the whips of the tribe,

From the place of grass we desire the place of vines

Driving them from pastures of grass to seek the pastures of glory.

وَأَينَ مَنبِتُهُ مِن بَعدِ مَنبِتِهِ

أَبي شُجاعِ قَريعِ العُربِ وَالعَجَمِ

And where is its place after its place

But where can such glory grow, now that he is gone—

Of my father Shuja the plague of Arabs and non-Arabs

Abu Shuja’, the chosen one of Arabs and foreigners alike?

لا فاتِكٌ آخَرٌ في مِصرَ نَقصِدُهُ

وَلا لَهُ خَلَفٌ في الناسِ كُلِّهِمِ

No protector remains in Egypt whom we visit

There is no other hero in Egypt for us to seek,

Nor successor amongst all people

Nor has he any successor among all mankind.

مَن لا تُشابِهُهُ الأَحياءُ في شِيَمِ

أَمسى تُشابِهُهُ الأَمواتُ في الرِمَمِ

He whom the living do not resemble in nature

He whom the living cannot rival in character,

The dead resemble him in decay

Is now resembled by the dead in dust and decay.

عَدِمتُهُ وَكَأَنّي سِرتُ أَطلُبُهُ

فَما تَزيدُنِيَ الدُنيا عَلى العَدَمِ

I lost him as if I traveled seeking him

I have lost him, and it seems I traveled only to seek him,

The world does not increase me save nonexistence

For the world offers me nothing more than loss.

ما زِلتُ أُضحِكُ إِبلي كُلَّما نَظَرَت

إِلى مَنِ اِختَضَبَت أَخفافُها بِدَمِ

I still laugh whenever my camels look

I have made my camels mock me whenever they gaze

At him whose stirrups their hooves bled for

Upon him for whom their hooves were dyed with blood.

أُسيرُها بَينَ أَصنامٍ أُشاهِدُها

وَلا أُشاهِدُ فيها عِفَّةَ الصَنَمِ

I walk them between idols I see

I drive them among idols I see walking about,

Yet I do not see in them the honor of an idol

Yet I find in them none of an idol’s purity.

حَتّى رَجَعتُ وَأَقلامي قَوائِلُ لي

المَجدُ لِلسَيفِ لَيسَ المَجدُ لِلقَلَمِ

Until I returned and my pens blame me

Until I returned, and my pens spoke out to me:

Glory is for the sword not glory for the pen

"True glory belongs to the sword, not to the pen."

اِكتُب بِنا أَبَداً بَعدَ الكِتابِ بِهِ

فَإِنَّما نَحنُ لِلأَسيافِ كَالخَدَمِ

Record us forever after writing with it

"Write with us only after you have written with the blade,

For we are but servants to the swords

For we are but servants to the sovereignty of swords."

أَسمَعتِني وَدَوائي ما أَشَرتِ بِهِ

فَإِن غَفِلتُ فَدائي قِلَّةُ الفَهَمِ

You heard me and my medicine I indicated

You have made me hear; the cure lies in your counsel,

If I am absent my cure is little wisdom

And if I ignore it, my sickness is but foolishness.

مَنِ اِقتَضى بِسِوى الهِندِيِّ حاجَتَهُ

أَجابَ كُلَّ سُؤالٍ عَن هَلٍ بِلَمِ

Whoever seeks his need save the Indian

Whoever seeks his desire with other than Indian steel

Answers every question about "if only" with "if"

Will find every hope answered only with denial.

تَوَهَّمَ القَومُ أَنَّ العَجزَ قَرَّبَنا

وَفي التَقَرُّبِ ما يَدعو إِلى التِهَمِ

The people supposed poverty brought us closer

They imagined that weakness drew us close to them,

And in growing closer lies what invites suspicion

Yet such closeness breeds only suspicion and contempt.

وَلَم تَزَل قِلَّةُ الإِنصافِ قاطِعَةً

بَينَ الرِجالِ وَلَو كانوا ذَوي رَحِمِ

Scant fairness always severs

Injustice remains a blade that severs all ties

Between men even if they are kindred

Between men, though they be kin of the same womb.

فَلا زِيارَةَ إِلّا أَن تَزورَهُمُ

أَيدٍ نَشَأنَ مَعَ المَصقولَةِ الخُذُمِ

So no visit unless you visit them

So there shall be no visit, unless they are visited

With hands calloused waving bright scabbards

By hands raised alongside polished, cutting blades.

مِن كُلِّ قاضِيَّةٍ بِالمَوتِ شَفرَتُهُ

ما بَينَ مُنتَقَمٍ مِنهُ وَمُنتَقِمِ

From every arbiter with death its blade

By every sword whose edge decrees certain death,

Between an avenger from him and an avenger

Deciding between the avenged and the avenger.

صُنّا قَوائِمَها عَنهُم فَما وَقَعَت

مَواقِعَ اللُؤمِ في الأَيدي وَلا الكَزَمِ

It protected its sheaths from them so they did not fall

We guarded our sword-hilts from their touch, lest they fall

In the places of cowardice in hands or bosses

Into hands of baseness or the grip of misers.

هَوِّن عَلى بَصَرٍ ما شَقَّ مَنظَرُهُ

فَإِنَّما يَقَظاتُ العَينِ كَالحُلُمِ

Make easy on sight what offends it

Look lightly upon sights that trouble the eye,

Wakefulness of the eye is like dreams

For the waking world is fleeting as a dream.

وَلا تَشَكَّ إِلى خَلقٍ فَتُشمِتَهُ

شَكوى الجَريحِ إِلى الغِربانِ وَالرَخَمِ

Do not complain to people so they gloat over you

Complain to no mortal, lest you gladden his heart—

Complaint of the wounded to ravens and ostriches

Like a wounded man complaining to the vultures and crows.

وَكُن عَلى حَذَرٍ لِلناسِ تَستُرُهُ

وَلا يَغُرُّكَ مِنهُم ثَغرُ مُبتَسِمُ

And beware of people, hiding it

Be ever wary of people, while hiding your caution,

And do not be fooled by their smiling mouths

And let no smiling mouth deceive you with its charm.

غاضَ الوَفاءُ فَما تَلقاهُ في عِدَةٍ

وَأَعوَزَ الصِدقُ في الإِخبارِ وَالقَسَمِ

Loyalty is scarce so you will not find it in a group

Loyalty has dried up; you will not find it in a promise,

Truthfulness in telling and oaths is lacking

And truth is scarce in every tale and oath.

سُبحانَ خالِقِ نَفسي كَيفَ لَذَّتُها

فيما النُفوسُ تَراهُ غايَةُ الأَلَمِ

Glory to the Creator of my soul, how it delighted

Glory to my soul’s Creator! How does it find pleasure

In what souls see as the epitome of pain

In that which other souls perceive as ultimate pain?

الدَهرُ يَعجَبُ مِن حَملي نَوائِبَهُ

وَصَبرِ جِسمي عَلى أَحداثِهِ الحُطُمِ

Fate is astonished I carry its misfortunes

Fate itself marvels at how I bear its blows,

And my body's endurance of its crushing blows

And how my body endures its crushing weight.

وَقتٌ يَضيعُ وَعُمرٌ لَيتَ مُدَّتَهُ

في غَيرِ أُمَّتِهِ مِن سالِفِ الأُمَمِ

Time is wasted and a life — would that its length

Time is wasted, and life—would that its span

Were in other than my nation from former peoples

Had been spent in a nation of ages past!

أَتى الزَمانَ بَنوهُ في شَبيبَتِهِ

فَسَرَّهُم وَأَتَيناهُ عَلى الهَرَمِ

Time brought its sons in their youth

The ancients met Time when it was young and fresh,

So it delighted them, and we came to it in old age

And it pleased them; but we found it in its dotage.