أَكَذا تَهدِمُ المنَونُ الجِبَالاَ

أَكَذا يَنزعُ الحِمامُ النِّصَالا

Thus does death destroy the mountains

Thus does the dove pluck out the spears

أَكَذا تَحطِمُ الرَّزَايَا العَوالي

أَكَذَا تَثلِمُ السُّيوفَ الصقِّالا

Thus does fate shatter the towering heights

Thus do swords blunt their sharpened edges

أَكَذا تَرجِعُ البِحَارُ وَقَد فَا

ضَت عُبَاباً وَقائعاً أَوشَالا

Thus do the seas recede, their murky depths

Churning, roiling, heaving in tumultuous swells

أَكَذا تَغربُ الكَواكبُ في التُّر

ب وكانَت في جَوِّها تَتَلالا

Thus do the stars sink into the darkness

Though once they shone bright in the firmament

سَلَبَ الحادِثُ الجَليلُ مَلِيكاً

لَم يُخَيِّب لِقَاصدٍ آمَالا

Dire misfortune has taken a noble king

Who disappointed no earnest hope

سَلَبَ الأَروَعَ الرَّحيمَ الكَميَّ ال

أَريحِيَّ الُمؤَمَّلَ المِفضالا

It has seized the most benevolent and generous

The most clement, the most anticipated and distinguished

سَلَبَ الغَازيَ الُمجَاهِدَ في اللَّ

هِ تَعَالى والعَالِمَ العَمَّالا

It has taken the warrior, the fighter for God

The Lord Most High, the tireless worker

سَلَبَ العاطِفَ الشَّفِيقَ على كُلِّ

البَرايا والقائِلَ الفَعَّالا

It has taken the sympathetic, the kind to all of mankind

The speaker of effective, purposeful words

إِنَّ قَبراً شاهَ أَرمنَ حَلَّ فيهِ

قَد حَوَىَ الفَخر والعُلى والجَلالا

In a grave lies the King of Armenia

Therein lies glory, nobility and majesty

وضَرِيحاً ثَوَى بِهِ غيرُ بِدعٍ

إِن تَسَامَى على النُّجومِ وَطَالا

In a tomb rests one who was peerless

Though he towered over the stars, sublime and remote

أَيُّ مَجدٍ للناسِ بالمَلِكِ الأَش

رفِ فيهِ لَم يَضرِبوا الأَمثَالا

What glory remains to people from the most noble king

In whom they never found fault or criticism?

أَيُّ مَلكٍ مِنَ المُلوكِ عَظيمٍ

ما مَشىَ في رِكابِه إِجلالا

What mighty monarch was ever shown such reverence

That people walked humbly in his train?

فَلَقد أَودَتِ الخُطُوبُ بِمَلكٍ

طَالَما في الوَغَى على الخَطبِ صَالا

Misfortune has taken a king who often plunged

Fearlessly into the thick of battle

مَلِكٌ لَم يَزل إِلى أَن غدا للَّ

هِ جاراً لَهُ الأنَامُ عِيَالا

A king who was always, until he passed into the grace of God

The provider upon whom all people depended

مَلِك بَاهرُ الَمنَاقبِ للإِسِ

لام والمُسلمينَ كانَ مألا

A king whose brilliant virtues made him a shining light

For Islam and Muslims - he was their bastion

مَلِكٌ كانض أَمنَ الديِّنَ إن خا

فَ مِنَ الُمشرِكينَ داءَ عُضَالا

A king who secured the faith when it was threatened

By invading polytheists, a terrible affliction

كَسَفَ الَموتُ شَمسَ أُفق الَمعَالي

وَأصَابَتُ يَدُ الَمنَايا الهلاِلا

Death has eclipsed the sun shining on the horizon of glory

The hand of mortality has struck down the crescent moon

وَهوَى بَعدَ فَقدِ مُوَسى أبي الفَت

حِ مِنَ المَجدِ ما سَمَا وتَعَالَى

After the loss of Moses my father, the Opener,

Glory itself has fallen from its lofty pinnacle

لَيِسَ الُملكُ والهُدَى وثُغُورُ ال

أَرضٍ والدَّهرُ بَعدَهُ أَسمَالا

Neither kingdom nor guidance nor earthly frontiers

Nor time itself will be as they were without him.

عَبرةُ المُلكِ بَعدهُ لَيسَ تَرقا

وكَذا عَثرَةُ الهُدَى لَن تُقَالا

The kingdom after him is no exalted thing

Just as the faltering of guidance cannot be ignored

قَسَماً بالإِلَهِ لَم يَرَ تاجٌ

أَبداً تَحتَهُ لِموُسَى مِثَالا

By God! No crown will ever grace

A head comparable to that of Moses

لَم يَزل وَاتِرَ الحَوادِثِ حَتَّى

أَخَذَت مِنهُ ثَأرَهُنَّ تَبالا

Misfortune oppressed him until at last

Fate had its vengeance and was sated

إِن غدا دَستُ مُلكِهِ خَالِياً مِن

هُ فَمَا زَالَ قَبلُ للبدرِ هالا

Whether his royal robe was now empty of him

He was still the full moon's peer before

أَو غَدَت خَيلُه صفُوفاً فَكَم ال

بسها النَّقعَ في الهيِاجِ جِلاَلا

Or his steeds were riderless ranks

He had richly caparisoned them for battle's fury

أَو غدا دِرعُهُ مَضُونا فَكَم غَا

دَرَهُ ما أفاضَ مِنهُ مُذالا

Or his coat of mail was unused

He had freely dispensed gifts from its bounty

أَو ثَوت في الغُمودِ أَسيافُهُ البِي

ضُ فَكَم قَد غَزَت بِهنَّ صِيَالا

Or his bright swords rested in their scabbards

With them he had raided many a land

أَو دكَت جَمرةُ القِراعِ فَكِم أَخ

مَدَ منِها ما كانَ زادَ اشتِعالا

Or the clash of his arms fell silent

With them he had kindled the flames of many wars

أَي أرضٍ ما شَنَّ غَاراتِه في

ها وَبرَ ما سَنَّ فيهِ النِّزالا

What land did he not raid with his attacks

With his swift, unfailing spears

بِجيادِ رماحُه كَفَلت أَن

لا يُرى ضِدةُّ لَها أَكفالا

No rival dared approach, or met defeat

O king who curtailed the shade cast on the people

يا مليكَ الدُّنيا الذي قَلَّصَ اليَو

مَ رَداهُ عَنِ الأنامِ الظِّلالا

Eyes now brim with tears for you, cascading down cheeks

Hearts throb and ache, never leaving the nightingales in peace

إنَّ عَيناً تَلَدُّ بالدَّمعِ مِن بَع

دِكَ إنسانُها على الخَدِّ مالا

After you hopes were dashed and aims denied

The sea of kindness seethed, churned into ruin

وفُؤاداً يَقِرُّ مِن خَفَقانٍ

وَحَنينٍ لا فَارَقَ البَلبالا

What glory remains but the train that drags

Across the stars, trailing in your wake?

كَذَبَت بَعدكَ الظُّنونُ وخابَ ال

قَصدُ والبَرُّ بَحرُهُ صارَ آلا

The grave that holds your body forms clouds

That gather at dusk and break at dawn, ever burdensome

أَيُّ مَجدٍ سِوىَ الذي سُؤدُداً يَس

حَبُ فَوقَ الكواكبِ الأذيالا

And over you massed rainclouds linger

Ceaselessly, in constant mourning

جادَتِ الحُفرَةَ التي ضُمنَت جِس

مَكَ سُحبٌ تُمسي وتُضحِي ثِقالا

وأَقامَت عَليكَ سُحبُ الحيَا لا

تَتولَّى وإِنَّما تَتَوالي