أقول لِسربٍ مِن حَمامٍ عَرَضْن لي

يُغرِّدن في أعلى الغصونِ وينَدُبْنا

I say to a flock of doves that alighted near me,

Cooing atop the highest branches, calling out,

ويسكَّن في خضراءَ ناعمةِ الرُّبا

أَنيقةِ رَوْض النَّبْتِ آنِسةِ المَغنى

And nestling in the soft, verdant garden,

Graceful, pleasing place of growing plants,

بَوارِحَ لا يخشَيْن بَيْناً ولا نوىً

رواتِع لا يَعرِفن همّاً ولا حُزْنا

With limbs that fear no scheming or malice,

Serene, knowing neither anxiety nor sorrow.

فقلتُ هنيئاً للحَمامِ أمانُه

وإن كانتِ الأَيّامُ لم تُعطني أمنا

I said: fortunate are the doves in their safety,

Though days have not given me any safety.

أسِرْبَ الحَمامِ لو لقِيتُنَّ بعضَ ما

أُلاقي لأَصبحتُنّ أوّلَ من يَضْنَى

If the doves were to meet some of what I meet,

They would be the first to moan in distress.

ولو قد علمِتُنّ الّذي أنا عالمٌ

لما ناح منكْم هاتِفٌ لا ولا غَنىَّ

If they knew what I know,

None among them would moan or sing.

ومَن جَرَّب الأيّامَ تجرِبتي لها

دَرَى أنّها ليست تدومُ على مَعنَى

Whoever has experienced time as I have,

Knows its ways do not last in one tenor.

فحسبُك يا دهرُ اصطلَيتَ بنارِ من

لو أنّك سُمّ في تَراقِيهِ ما أَنَّا

Enough, O Fate! You have kindled in us a fire—

Had you been poison, your burning were mercy.

وأكثرُ ما أهُجوك يا زمني به

من الفِعل أَنِّي لم أُحسِّنْ بك الظِّنّا

And most of all I blame you, my time, for

Never thinking well of you.

ذمَمْناك يا صَرْفَ الحوادثِ فانتصِرْ

وسُؤْناك يا رَيبَ الزمانِ فخذ مِنّا

We blamed you, O fickle fate, so defend yourself!

And we maligned you, O course of time, so take from us!

فإنّا أُناس لا نَذِلّ لنَكْبةٍ

وأخلاقنا لا تَعرِف الخوفَ والجُبنا

For we are people who bow to no misfortune,

Our nature knows neither fear nor cowardice.