وَقَومٍ إِن دَجا لِلنَقعِ لَيلٌ

فَهُم أَقمارُهُ بَينَ الصفوفِ

A people, if night covers for slumber,

They are its moons among the rows.

أَنختُ بِهِم رَجاءً مُضمَحِلّا

مِنَ الإِرقالِ وَالوَخدِ العَنيفِ

I placed in them a withering hope

Of survival and fierce pillow.

وَإِن غَنّى الحَديدُ فَهُم سُقاةٌ

يُديرونَ الكُؤوسَ مِنَ الحُتوفِ

And if iron sings, they are water-bearers

Circling cups from leather bags.

فَصادَفتُ الرَبيعَ مِنَ العَطايا

وَكُنتُ مِنَ الإِضافَةِ في مَضيفِ

So I met springtime from the gifts

And I was from the guests in a guesthouse.

فَيا لَكُمُ أُناساً إِن أَضافوا

حَسِبتَهُم ضُيوفاً لِلضُيوفِ

So excellent you are, people, when you entertain,

You'd think them guests of guests.

هُمِ الحَلماءُ إِلّا أَن يُضاموا

فَإِن ضَيَّموا فَجُهّالُ السُيوفِ

They are the wise ones unless wronged,

But if wronged, ignorant of swords.