شَعبٌ تَمَرَّسَ في الصِعا

بِ وَلَم تَنَل مِنهُ الصِعابْ

A people entrenched against adversity

Unshaken by tribulation’s severity

لَو هَمَّهُ اِنتابَ الهِضا

بَ لَدَكدَكَت مِنهُ الهِضابْ

Had they but roused to scale distraction’s crest

Distraction’s crest they’d surely have unseated

مُتَمَرِّدٌ لَم يَرضَ يَوْ

ماً أَن يُقِرُّ عَلى عَذابْ

Rebellious, scorning days of suffering yet

To settle, broken, upon anguish’s bed

عُمر نينَه بَلَغَ السَماء

ءَ وَرَأسَهُ نَطَحَ السَحابْ

Their age attains the heavens' vaulting scope

Their heads the very clouds began to butt

وَعُداتهُ رغمَ الأُنو

فِ تَذَلُّلاً حانوا الرِقابْ

Their pride despite the warring winds bowed down

Their necks before the tempest meekly louted

مَثَلٌ حَدا حادي الزَما

نِ بِهِ وَناقَلَت الرِكابْ

An exemplar guiding times alongside

And transporting eras past astride

إِن تَجهَل العَجَبَ العُجا

بَ فَإِنَّنا العَجَبُ العِجابْ

Should you perplexity itself perplex

Then we perplexity’s perplexity

نَحنُ الأُلى هابَ الوُجو

دَ وَلَيسَ فينا مَن يَهابْ

We first in being, dread of all that lives

Among us none is found the dreadful dreads

وَسَلِ الَّذي خَضَعَ الهَوا

ءَ لَهُ وَذَلَّ لَهُ العُبابْ

Now ask of those whom heaven’s winds obeyed

And clouds submitted, wind-tossed, to their will

هَل لانَ عودُ قَناتِنا

أَم هَل نَبَتَ عِندَ الضِرابْ

Do our canals leak now, or does there sprout

Upon our whips a sudden bloom of flowers?

أَو شامَ عَيباً غَيرَ أنْـ

ـنا لَيسَ نَرضى أَن نُعابْ

Or have you seen some fault in us, save that

We do not suffer insults with good grace?

حُيّيتَ مِن شَعبٍ تُخَلْـ

ـدُ لَيسَ يَعروهُ ذَهابْ

All hail, from folk who will not be misled

And cannot know the way that loss is tread

لَفَتَ الوَرى مِنكَ الزَئيـ

ـرُ مُزمَجراً مِن حَولِ غابْ

Creation marveled at your acts, and wide

Around your forests wolves began to pad

وَأَرى العِدا ما أَذهَلَ الدْ

نيا وَشابَ لَهُ الغُرابْ

The path to justice now made plain to all

And naked truth spoke truly, rightly clad

عُرفِ الطَريقُِ لِحَقِّهِ

وَمَشى لَهُ الجدَدُ الصَوابْ

No right returns except by way of war

To those who claim it, and blades keep it glad

الحَقُّ لَيسَ بِراجِعٍ

لِذَويهِ إِلّا بِالحِرابْ

The guttural cry yields not to cooing pleas

Or gentle remonstrance, but to stabs

وَالصَرخَةُ النَكراءُ تُجْـ

ـدي لا التَلَطُّفُ وَالعِتابْ

Let fire and iron decide for you

In them concludes all argument and rows

وَالنارُ تَضمَنُ وَالحَديـ

ـدُ لِمَن تَساءَلَ أَن يُجابْ

حَكِّمهُما فيما تُريـ

ـدُ فَفيهِما فَصلُ الخِطابْ