شِعْرِي نُفاثَةُ صَدْرِي

إنْ جاشَ فيهِ شُعوري

My poetry is the outpouring of my soul,

When deep emotions surge within its core;

لولاهُ مَا انجابَ عَنِّي

غَيْمُ الحَيَاةِ الخطيرِ

Without it, I could never push aside

The perilous clouds that life has held in store.

ولا وجدتُ اكتئابي

ولا وجدتُ سُروري

Nor would I have discovered my despair,

Nor found the sources of my joy and glee;

بِهِ تَراني حزيناً

أَبكي بدمعٍ غزيرِ

Through it, you see me cast in heavy gloom,

Weeping tears that flow abundantly.

بهِ تراني طروباً

أَجرُّ ذَيل حُبوري

Through it, you see me enraptured and bright,

Trailing the robes of pride and ecstasy.

لا أَنظمُ الشِّعْرَ أَرجو

بهِ رضاءَ الأَميرِ

I do not weave my verses in the hope

Of gaining favor from a prince's hand,

بِمِدْحَةٍ أَو رثاءٍ

تُهدى لرَبِّ السَّريرِ

With praise or mournful elegy designed

To please the ruler of the throne and land.

حسبي إِذا قلتُ شعراً

أَنْ يرتضيهِ ضَميري

It is enough for me, when I speak verse,

That my own conscience gives it full consent.

مَا الشِّعرُ إلاَّ فضاءٌ

يرفُّ فيهِ مَقَالي

Poetry is nothing but a vast expanse

Wherein my words take flight in their ascent,

فيما يَسُرُّ بلادي

ومَا يَسُرُّ المعالي

Speaking of that which brings my country cheer,

And that which honors heights of dignity,

وما يُثيرُ شُعوري

مِنْ خَافقاتِ خَيَالي

And all that stirs the feelings in my breast

From fluttering visions of my fantasy.

لا أَقْرُضُ الشِّعْرَ أَبغي

به اقتناصَ نَوَالِ

I do not craft my poetry to hunt

For rewards or to capture monetary gain;

الشِّعْرُ إنْ لم يكنْ في

جمالِهِ ذا جَلالِ

For poetry, if it does not possess

Beauty infused with majesty's domain,

فإنَّما هوَ طيفٌ

يَسعَى بوَادي الظِّلالِ

Is nothing but a phantom, pale and slight,

That wanders through the valley of the shade,

يقضي الحَيَاةَ طريداً

في ذِلَّةِ واعتزالِ

Spending its life an outcast, fugitive,

In solitude and lowly state distinct.

يا شِعرُ أَنتَ ملاكي

وطارِفِي وتلادي

O Poetry, you are my angel and my guide,

My newfound treasure and my ancient store;

أَنا إليكَ مُرادٌ

وأَنتَ نِعْمَ مُرَادي

I am the one drawn lovingly to you,

And you are the desire I most adore.

قِفْ لا تَدَعني وحيداً

ولا أَدعْكَ تُنادي

Stay, do not leave me lonely and apart,

Nor shall I leave you calling out in vain;

فهلْ وجدتَ حُساماً

يُنَاطُ دونَ نِجَادِ

For have you ever found a sword of might

Hung without a baldric to sustain?

كمْ حَطَّمَ الدَّهْرُ

ذا هِمَّةٍ كثيرَ الرَّمادِ

How often Time has shattered into dust

Men of resolve and hospitality,

أَلقاهُ تحتَ نعالٍ

من ذِلَّةٍ وحِدادِ

Casting them down beneath the trampling soles

Of abject shame and mourning's decree.

رِفقاً بأَهْلِ بلادي

يا منجنون العوادي

Be gentle with the people of my land,

O catapult of doom and misery.