يا ربَّةَ الشِّعرِ والأَحلام غنِّيني

فقد سَئِمْتُ وُجومَ الكونِ مِنْ حينِ

Oh Goddess of poetry and dreams, sing to me,

For I have long wearied of the universe's gloom.

إنَّ اللَّيالي اللَّواتي ضمَّختْ كَبِدِي

بالسِّحْرِ أَضْحتْ مع الأَيَّامِ ترميني

The very nights that once anointed my heart

With magic, now join the days in striking me down.

نَاختْ بنفسي مآسيها وما وَجَدَتْ

قلباً عطوفاً يُسَلِّيها فَعَزِّيني

Tragedies weigh heavy upon my soul, finding there

No tender heart to cheer it, so console me.

وهدَّ مِنْ خَلَدِي نَوْحٌ تُرَجِّعُهُ

بَلْوَى الحَيَاةِ وأَحزانُ المَسَاكينِ

My spirit is broken by a wailing echoed by

The affliction of life and the sorrows of the poor.

على الحَيَاةِ أَنا أَبكي لشَقْوَتِها

فمنْ إِذا مُتُّ يبكيها ويبكيني

I weep for life because of its misery,

For who, when I die, will weep for it and for me?

يا رَبَّةَ الشِّعْرِ غنِّيني فقد ضَجِرَتْ

نفسي منَ النَّاسِ أبناءِ الشَّياطينِ

Oh Goddess of poetry, sing to me, for my soul has tired

Of mankind, these children of demons.

تَبَرَّمَتْ بينيَ الدُّنيا وأَعوَزَها

في مِعزفِ الدَّهرِ غرِّيدُ الأَرانينِ

The world has scowled at me, and lacks

Upon the lyre of fate, a singer of sweet tunes.

وراحَةُ اللَّيلِ ملأَى مِنْ مدامِعِهِ

وغادَةُ الحبِّ ثَكْلى لا تغنِّيني

The palm of the night is filled with its tears,

And the maiden of love is bereaved, singing not to me.

فهلْ إِذا لُذْتُ بالظَّلماءِ مُنْتَحِباً

أَسلو وما نَفْعُ محْزونٍ لمحزونِ

If I seek shelter in the darkness, weeping,

Will I find peace? What aid can a sad soul give the sad?

يا ربَّةَ الشِّعرِ إنِّي بائسٌ تَعِسٌ

عَدِمْتُ مَا أَرتجي في العالمِ الدُّونِ

Oh Goddess of poetry, I am wretched and miserable,

I have lost all I hope for in this base world.

وفي يديكِ مزاميرٌ يُخالِجُها

وَحْيُ السَّماءِ فهاتيها وغَنِّيني

Yet in your hands are psalms stirred by

The revelation of heaven, so bring them and sing to me.

ورتِّلي حولَ بيتِ الحُزْنِ أُغنيةً

تجلُو عن النَّفسِ أَحوانَ الأَحايينِ

And chant around the house of sorrow a song

That clears from the soul the trials of the times.

فإنَّ قلبيَ قبرٌ مُظلمٌ قُبِرَتْ

فيهِ الأَماني فما عادتْ تناغيني

For my heart is a dark grave in which are buried

My hopes, which no longer sing to me.

لولاكِ في هذه الدُّنيا لمَا لَمَسَتْ

أَوتارُ روحِيَ أَصواتَ الأَفانينِ

Were it not for you in this world, never would

The strings of my spirit touch the voices of art.

ولا تَغَنَّيْتُ مأخوذاً ولا عَذُبَتْ

ليَ الحَيَاةُ لدى غَضِّ الرَّياحينِ

Nor would I have sung, enraptured, nor would

Life be sweet to me amidst the fresh blooms.

ولا ازدهى النَّفْسَ في أَشْجانها شَفَقٌ

يُلوِّنُ الغَيْمَ لهواً أَيَّ تلوينِ

Nor would the twilight cheer my soul in its sadness,

Painting the clouds in playful, vibrant hues.

ولا استخفَّ حياتي وهيَ هائمةٌ

فجرُ الهَوَى في جفونِ الخُرَّدِ العِينِ

Nor would the dawn of love thrill my wandering life

Within the eyelids of wide-eyed beauties.