يَا إِخْوَتِي الشُّهَدَاءَ ذَاكَ سَلامُ

إِنَّ الْحَيَاةَ بِفَقْدِكُمْ آلامُ

Oh my martyred brothers, peace be upon you,

Without you, life is full of sorrows.

أَنْتُمْ نَصَرْتُمْ دِينَ رَبِّي فِي الْوَرَى

حِينَ التَّذَلُّلُ وَالْخُنُوعُ يُرَامُ

You supported the religion of my Lord in this world,

When humility and submission were sought.

أَنْتُمْ أَبَيْتُمْ أَنْ تَعِيشُوا فِي الرَّدَى

وَلَغَيْرُكُمْ عَشِقَ الْحَيَاةَ يُضَامُ

You refused to live in degradation,

While others craved life out of greed.

حَشَفٌ يَضَنُّ بِهِ الْعِبَادُ وَأَنْتُمُ

مُزْنٌ وَهَلْ أَعْطَى الدِّمَاءَ غَمَامُ

You are the pride of the devoted,

While the weak-willed are blamed.

دَمُكُمْ لأَحْرَارِ الْحَيَاةِ مَفَاخِرٌ

وَمِنَ الْقُعُودِ الْوَاهِنِينَ يُلامُ

You became the epics of a weeping nation,

And its tears are like its dreams.

صِرْتُمْ مَلاحِمَ أُمَّةٍ تَبْكِي الدِّمَا

وَدُمُوعُهَا كَنَصِيرِهَا أَحْلامُ

You became the ideals of the religion, proud

After the aggressors dominated the frontiers for ages.

صِرْتُمْ أَثَالَ الدِّينِ يَفْخَرُ بَعْدَمَا

ظَلَّ الْقُرُونَ عَلَى الثُّغُورِ طَغَامُ

Whoever believes in the Merciful, He will believe him, and

The blood speaks, and the blood has words.

مَنْ يَصْدُقِ الرَّحْمَنَ يَصْدُقْهُ وَذَا

خَبَرُ الدِّمَاءِ وَلِلدِّمَاءِ كَلامُ

Do they illuminate the night of the despairing with hopes?

The night complains tearfully, where are the loved ones

هَذِي قُبُورٌ لا النُّجُومُ مُشِعَّةٌ

أَيُضِيءُ لَيْلَ الْيَائِسِينَ رِجَامُ

Filled with light, bowing and standing in prayers?

A light and warmth from tears, oh how

اللَّيْلُ يَشْكُو بَاكِيًا أَيْنَ الأُلَى

مَلأُونِ نُورًا سُجَّدًا وَقِيَامُ

Are they the fires of an afflicted one, or the coals of a dove?

The sun burns with sorrow like a mother who

نُورًا وَدِفْئًا مِنْ دُمُوعٍ يَا لَهَا

أَنُسُورُ بَاسٍ أَمْ أُلاكَ حَمَامُ

Slaughtered her infant with her own darkness.

Where are those whose meeting and farewell

وَالشَّمْسُ تَحْتَرِقُ الأَسَى كَالأُمِّ قَدْ

ذَبَحَ الرَّضِيعَ بِحِجْرِهَا الظُّلاَّمُ

Added with remembrance so much to existence?

I am like them, the light of life, and I wish

أَيْنَ الَّذِينَ لِقَاؤُهُمْ وَوَدَاعُهُمْ

بِالذِّكْرِ كَمْ زِيدَ الْوُجُودَ ظَلامُ

I were with them, so darkness remains for the world.

If not for the remaining believers I love,

أَنَا مِثْلُهُمْ نُورُ الْحَيَاةِ وَلَيْتَنِي

مَعَهُمْ فَيَبْقَى لِلْوَرَى الإِعْتَامُ

I would wish my light to be extinguished.

And the earth grieves, not content, as if

لَوْلا بَقِيَّةُ مُؤْمِنِينَ أُحِبُّهُمْ

لَوَدِدْتُ أَنَّ أَشِعَّتِي أَضْرَامُ

It regrettably lost its beauty to illnesses.

What saddens me? Did my worries weigh me down?

وَالأَرْضُ تَحْزَنُ لا تَقَرُّ كَأَنَّهَا

عَذْرَا أَضَاعَتْ حُسْنَهَا الأَسْقَامُ

Or did my miseries and flags leave me?

Where are those whose bowing and prostration

مَاذَا دَهَانِي هَلْ هُمُومِي أُثْقِلَتْ

أَوْ زَالَ عَنِّي وَيْلَتِي الأَعْلامُ

Gave my soul life in which I found comfort?

Where are the loved ones walking gently, never hasty?

أَيْنَ الَّذِينَ رُكُوعُهُمْ وَسُجُودُهُمْ

يُعْطِينِ رَوْحًا لِي بِهِ اسْتِرْحَامُ

Oh, how I wish I were an annihilation to their enemy!

The universe bid you farewell, grieving, tearful,

أَيْنَ الأُلَى يَمْشُونَ هَوْنًا مَا جَرَى

يَا لَيْتَنِي لِعَدُوِّهِمْ أَلْغَامُ

In a scene - oh, how I wish I were a painter!

My heart overflows with yearning and my poem

الْكَوْنُ وَدَّعَكُمْ حَزِينًا دَامِعًا

فِي مَشْهَدٍ يَا لَيْتَنِي رَسَّامُ

Wrote an elegy from which harmony flows.

If not for martyrdom, I would have elegyed you,

قَلْبِي يَفِيضُ تَشَوُّقًا وَيَرَاعَتِي

كَتَبَتْ قَرِيضًا فَاضَ مِنْهُ وِئَامُ

A rock, and who is a rock?! I would then be blamed.

Should I cry for myself or rejoice in your

لَوْلا الشَّهَادَةُ قَدْ رَثَيْتُكُمُ رِثَا

صَخْرٍ، وَمَنْ صَخْرٌ؟! إِذَنْ سَأُلامُ

Martyrdom, a favor from your Lord?

Why don't I live in my memory with you, so

هَلْ نَفْسِ أَبْكِي أَوْ أُسَرُّ لِفَوْزِكُمْ

بِشَهَادَةٍ مِنْ رَبِّكُمْ إِنْعَامُ

Wounds do not torment the heart - that is the purpose.

Or am I deprived of a specter in the darkness

هَلاَّ أَعِيشُ بِخَاطِرِي مَعَكُمْ فَلا

تُدْمِي الْجِرَاحُ الْقَلْبَ ذَاكَ مَرَامُ

That would console my wounds? Do I have dreams?

A specter and dreams are enough wealth for my determination.

أَمْ أَنَّنِي مَحْرُومُ طَيْفٍ بِالدُّجَى

يُؤْسِي جِرَاحِي هَلْ لِيَ الأَحْلامُ

Perhaps with you I may have an abode.

طَيْفٌ وَأَحْلامٌ غِنًى لِعَزِيمَتِي

فَلَعَلَّ لِي مَعَكُمْ يَكُونُ مُقَامُ