يا رفيقي وأَينَ أَنْتَ فَقَدْ

أَعْمَتْ جُفوني عواصِفُ الأَيَّامِ

Oh my comrade, where are you? For truly,

The storms of days have blinded my sight,

ورمتْني بمَهْمَهٍ قاتِمٍ قفرٍ

تُغَشِّيهِ داجِياتُ الغَمامِ

And cast me into a bleak, desolate waste,

Shrouded by the gloom of heavy clouds.

خُذْ بكفِّي وغنِّني يا رفيقي

فسبيلُ الحَيَاةِ وَعْرٌ أَمامي

Take my hand and sing to me, my comrade,

For the path of life before me is steep and rough.

كلَّما سرتُ زلَّ بي فيهِ مَهْوَى

تَتَضاعى به وُحُوشُ الحِمَامِ

Whenever I tread, an abyss slips beneath my feet,

Wherein the beasts of death howl and cry.

شَعَّبَتْهُ الدُّهُورُ وانطمسَ النُّورُ

وقامتْ بنا بَنَاتُ الظَّلامِ

Time has branched the path, and the light is gone,

And the daughters of darkness have risen around us,

راقِصاتٍ يخلُبْنَ في حَلَكِ اللَّيلِ

ويلعبْنَ بالقُلوبِ الدَّوامي

Dancing, beguiling in the pitch-black night,

And toying with our bleeding hearts.

غنِّني فالغِناءُ يَدْرَأُ عنَّا السَّاحرَ

الجنَّ ساكنَ الآجامِ

Sing to me, for song wards off the sorcerer,

The Jinn who dwells within the thickets.

قَدْ تَفَكَّرْتُ في الوُجُودِ فأَعياني

وأَدبرتُ آيساً لِظَلامي

I have pondered existence until it wearied me,

And I retreated in despair to my gloom.

أَنشُدُ الرَّاحَةَ البعيدَةَ لكنْ

خابَ ظنِّي وأَخطأَتْ أَحلامي

Seeking that distant rest, yet alas,

My hopes were dashed and my dreams went astray.

فمَعِي في جوانحي أَبدَ الدَّهرِ

فؤادٌ إلى الحقيقةِ ظامي

For within my ribs, throughout all time,

Is a heart thirsting for the truth.

مَا تراخَى الزَّمانُ إلاَّ وأَلقى

في طَواياهُ قبضَةً مِنْ ضُرامِ

Time never passes without casting,

Into its folds a burning handful of fire.

تَتَلَّظَى يدُ الحَيَاةِ وَزَادَتْ

مُعضلاتُ الدُّهُورِ والأَعوامِ

The hand of life burns, and ever growing are

The dilemmas of the ages and the years.

أَظمأَتْ مُهجَتي الحَيَاةُ فهل

يوماً تُبلُّ الحَيَاةُ بعضَ أَوامي

Life has parched my soul, so will

Life ever quench a portion of my burning thirst?

يا رفيقي مَا أحسبُ المنبعَ المنشودَ

إلاَّ وراءَ ليلِ الرِّجَامِ

Oh my comrade, I do not deem the spring we seek,

To lie anywhere but beyond the night of the grave.

غنِّني يا أُخَيَّ فالكوْنُ تَيْهَاءُ

بها قَدْ تمزَّقتْ أَقْدامي

Sing to me, my brother, for the cosmos is a wilderness,

Wherein my feet have been torn to shreds.

غنِّني علَّني أُنيمُ همومي

إنَّني قَدْ مَلَلْتُ مِنْ تَهْيامي

Sing to me, that I might lull my cares to sleep,

For I have grown weary of my aimless wandering.

يا رفيقي أَما تفكَّرْتَ في النَّاسِ

وما يحملونَ مِنْ آلامِ

Oh my comrade, have you not reflected on mankind,

And the burdens of pain they carry?

فلقدْ حزَّ في فؤادي مَا

يَلْقَوْنَ من صَوْلَةِ الأَسى الظَّلاَّمِ

For deeply has it cut into my heart—

What they endure from the assault of dark sorrow.

فإذا سرَّني من الفجرِ نورٌ

ساءَني مَا يُسِرُّ قلبُ الظَّلاَمِ

If the light of dawn brings me joy,

I am saddened by what the heart of darkness conceals.

كمْ بقلبِ الظَّلامِ مِنْ أنَّةٍ

تهفو بغصَّاتِ صِبْيَةٍ أَيتامِ

How many groans lie within the heart of darkness,

Trembling with the choking sobs of orphans,

وَنشيجٍ مُضرّمٍ من فتاةٍ

أَبْهَظَتْها قَوارِعُ الأَيَّامِ

And the burning wails of a young girl,

Crushed by the calamities of the days,

ونُواحٍ يَفيضُ من قلبِ أُمٍّ

فُجِعَتْ في وحيدها البسَّامِ

And wailing that pours from a mother's heart,

Bereaved of her only, smiling child,

فَطَمَ الموتُ طفلَها وهو نورٌ

في دُجاها من قبلِ عهدِ الفِطامِ

Death weaned her babe while he was yet a light,

Amidst her gloom, before his time of weaning,

وأَنينٍ مِنْ مُعْدَمٍ ذي سَقامٍ

عضَّهُ الدَّهرُ بالخُطُوبِ الجِسامِ

And the groan of a destitute, sickly man,

Bitten by fate with grave misfortunes.

مَا إخالُ النُّجُومَ إلاَّ دُموعاً

ذَرَفَتْها محاجِرُ الأَعوامِ

I deem the stars to be nothing but tears,

Shed by the eyes of the passing years,

فَلَقَدْ ضرَّمَ الشُّجونَ بنوها

فإذا بالشُّجونِ سَيْلٌ طَامِ

For her children have kindled the fires of sorrow,

Until sorrow became an overwhelming flood,

وإذا بالحَيَاةِ في ملعَبِ الدَّهْرِ

تَدوسُ الرُّؤُوسَ بالأَقْدامِ

And behold, Life in the arena of Time,

Tramples human heads beneath its feet,

وإذا الكونُ فِلْذَةٌ مِنْ جحيمٍ

تَتَغَذَّى بكلِّ قلبٍ دَامِ

And the universe is but a fragment of hell,

Feeding upon every bleeding heart,

وهُمُ في جَحيمِهِمْ يَتَنَاغَوْنَ

بما في الوُجُودِ مِنْ أَنْغامِ

Yet in their hell, they sing to one another,

With whatever melodies life affords.

عجباً للنُّفوسِ وهيَ بَوَاكٍ

عجباً للقلوبِ وهيَ دَوَامِ

I marvel at these souls, weeping,

I marvel at these hearts, bleeding;

كيف تشدو وفي محاجرها الدَّمْعُ

وتلهو مَا بَيْنَ سُودِ المَوَامِي

How do they sing with tears welling in their eyes,

And frolic amidst the black wastelands?

يا رفيقي لقد ضَلَلْتُ طريقي

وتَخَطَّتْ مِحَجَّتي أَقدامي

Oh my comrade, I have lost my way,

And my feet have strayed past my destination.

خُذْ بكفِّي فإنَّني تائِهٌ أعمى

كثيرُ الضَّلالِ والأَوهامِ

Take my hand, for I am a blind wanderer,

Beset by error and illusions.

وانْفُخِ النَّايَ فالحَيَاةُ ظَلامٌ

مَا لِمُرْتادِهِ من الهَوْلِ حَامِ

Play the reed flute, for life is darkness,

With no protector to shield one from its terror,

مِلءُ آفاقِهِ فَحيحُ الأَفاعي

وعَجيجُ الآثامِ والآلامِ

Its horizons are filled with the hissing of snakes,

And the clamor of sins and suffering.

فانْفُخِ النَّايَ إنَّهُ هِبَةُ

الأَملاكِ للمستعيذِ بالإِلهامِ

So play the flute, for it is the gift

Of angels to the one seeking refuge in song.

واغذُذِ السَّيْرَ فالنَّهارُ بعيدٌ

وسَبيلُ الحَيَاةِ جَمُّ الظَّلامِ

And hasten the pace, for the dawn is far away,

And the path of life is thick with darkness.