رَمِيَّ المَوتِ إِنَّ السَهمَ صابا

وَمَن يُدمِن عَلى رَميٍ أَصابا

The arrows of death always hit their mark

And he who persistently shoots will hit the target

وَكُنتَ العَيشَ مُتَّصِلاً وَلكِن

تَصَرَّمَ حينَ لَذَّ وَحينَ طابا

You lived a life of continuance, but then

You enjoyed yourself for a while and then passed away

وَشَيَّبَني اِنتِظاري كُلَّ يَومٍ

لِعَهدِكَ كَرَّةً وَالدَهرُ يابى

Waiting for you day after day made me grey

Again and again, while time betrayed me

إِلامَ أَشُبُّ مِن نيرانِ قَلبي

عَلَيكَ لِكُلِّ قافِيَةٍ شِهابا

Why do the fires in my heart resemble

A shower of sparks for every rhyme about you

وَقَد وَدَّعتُ قَبلَكَ كُلَّ سَفرٍ

وَلكِن غابَ حيناً ثُمَّ آبا

I bid farewell to all journeys before you

But you were gone for a while, then came back

وَأَهيَجُ ما أَكونُ لَكَ اِدِّكاراً

إِذا ما النَجمُ صَوَّبَ ثُمَّ غابا

I am stirred whenever I remember you

Whenever a star takes aim and then sets

أَرى فَقدَ الحَبيبِ مِنَ المَنايا

إِلى يَأسٍ كَمَن فَقَدَ الشَبابا

In losing a beloved to death, I see

Hopelessness, like one who lost youth

وَما مَعنى الحَياةِ بِلا شَبابٍ

سَواءٌ ماتَ في المَعنى وَشابا

What is the meaning of life without youth

Whether one died young or old does not matter

وَلَيلِ أَسىً كَصُبحِ الشَيبِ قُبحاً

أُكابِدُهُ سُهاداً وَاِنتِحابا

The night of sorrow is as ugly as the dawn of old age

I suffer it, lamenting and weeping

تَزيدُ بِهِ جَوانِحِيَ اِتِّقاداً

إِذا زادَت مَدامِعِيَ اِنسِكابا

With it, the flames in my soul are stoked

When my tears flow more strongly

وَشَرُّ مُكابَداتِ القَلبِ حالٌ

يُريكَ الضِدَّ بَينَهُما اِنتِسابا

The worst suffering of the heart is a state

That makes opposites seem akin

لَعَلَّكَ وَالعُلومُ مُغَنِّياتٌ

نَسيتَ هُناكَ بَالغُنمِ الإِيابا

Maybe you and your knowledge made you forget

The sheep you left behind while you were away

أَيا عَبدَ الإِلهِ نِداءَ يَأسٍ

وَهَل أَرجو لَدى رَمسٍ جَوابا

Oh servant of God, a call of despair

Can I hope for an answer from a tomb?

أَصِخ لي كَيفَ شِئتَ فَإِنَّ أُنساً

لِنَفسِيَ أَن تُبَلِّغَكَ الخِطابا

Grieve for me however you wish, for my spirit

Finds comfort in conveying this message to you

يَسوءُ العَينَ أَن يَعتَنَّ رَدمٌ

مِنَ الغَبراءِ بَينَكُما حِجابا

It pains the eye that a pile of dust

Forms a barrier between you and me

وَأَن تَحتَلَّها غَبراءَ ضَنكاً

كَما يُستَودَعُ السَيفُ القِرابا

And that dreary dust occupies it

As a sword occupies its sheath

مُجاوِرَ جِلَّةٍ ضَرَبَت شَعوبٌ

بِعالِيَةِ البَقيعِ لَهُم قِبابا

Dwelling near many, whose nations

Erected domes for them in al-Baqi‘ cemetery

وَكَم فَوقَ الثَرى مِن رَوضِ حُسنٍ

جَرى نَفَسُ الأَسى فيهِ فَذابا

And how many meadows of beauty beneath the soil

Which the breath of anguish flowed through and melted

فَقَد نَشَرَ الخُدودَ عَلى التَراقي

وَشابَ بِقَلبِيَ الدَمعَ الرُضابا

It spread the cheeks across the slope

And my tears moistened it and bubbled forth

سَقاكَ وَلا أَخُصُّ رَبابَ مُزنٍ

لَعَلَّ ثَراكَ قَد سَئِمَ الرَبابا

I did not water you, nor do I own a gentle raincloud

Perhaps your burial mound grew weary of rain

وَلكِن ما يَسوغُ عَلى التَكافي

لِقَبرِكَ أَن يَكونَ لَهُ شَرابا

But what could justify your grave

Receiving a drink?

فَإِنّي رُبَّما اِستَسقَيتُ يَوماً

لَكَ الجَونَينِ جَفنِيَ وَالسَحابا

For I may someday beseech

The clouds to cry for me over you

فَتَخجَلُ مِن مُلوحَتِها دُموعي

إِذا ذَكَرَت شَمائِلَكَ العِذابا

My tears would be ashamed of their saltiness

When they remember your torment and pain

تَكادُ عَلى التَتابُعِ وَهيَ حُمرٌ

تَحَيَّرُ في مَحاجِرِيَ اِرتِيابا

Successive red droplets that

Wander confused in my eye sockets

فَلَيتَ أَحَمَّ مِسكٍ عادَ غَيماً

فَحامَ عَلى ضَريحِكَ ثُمَّ صابا

I wish a vial of musk would turn to clouds

And pour down upon your grave

وَزاحَمَ في ثَراكَ الدَمعَ حَتّى

يَشُقَّ إِلى مَفارِقِكَ التُرابا

It would compete with my tears to penetrate

Your burial soil