ينقَضي العَيْشُ بَيْنَ شَوْقٍ ويأْسِ

والمُنَى بَيْنَ لَوْعَةٍ وتَأَسِّ

Life slips away between longing and despair,

And hopes hang suspended between anguish and regret.

هذِهِ سُنَّةُ الحَيَاةِ ونَفْسي

لا تَوَدُّ الرَّحيقَ في كأسِ رِجْسِ

Such is the law of existence, yet my soul refuses

To sip the nectar from a chalice defiled.

مُلِئَ الدَّهْرُ بالخداعِ فكمْ قَدْ

ضَلَّلَ النَّاسَ مِنْ لإمامٍ وقسِّ

The age is brimming with deceit; how often indeed

Have priest and imam led the masses astray.

كلَّما أَسأَلُ الحَيَاةَ عن الحقِّ

تَكُفُّ الحَيَاةُ عن كلِّ هَمْسِ

Each time I question Life regarding the Truth,

Life holds its tongue and ceases every whisper.

لمْ أجدْ في الحَيَاةِ لحناً بديعاً

يَسْتَبيني سِوى سَكينَةِ نَفْسي

I found no wondrous melody within this life

To captivate me, save my own soul's serenity.

فَسَئِمْتُ الحياةَ إلاَّ غِراراً

تتلاشى بهِ أَناشيدُ يَأْسي

So I wearied of life, save for a fleeting glimpse

Wherein the anthems of my despair fade away.

ناولتني الحَيَاةُ كأساً دِهاقاً

بالأَماني فما تناولْتُ كأْسي

Life offered me a chalice overflowing

With high hopes, yet I refused the draught;

وسَقَتْني من التَّعاسَةِ أَكْواباً

تَجَرَّعْتُها فيَا شدَّ تَعْسي

Then it poured me goblets of bitter misery,

Which I was forced to drain; oh, the depth of my woe.

إنَّ في روضَةِ الحَيَاةِ لأَشْواكاً

بها مُزِّقَتْ زَنابِقُ نفسي

Truly, within Life's garden lie sharp thorns,

Upon which the lilies of my soul were torn.

ضاعَ أَمسي وأَينَ منِّي أَمسي

وقَضَى الدَّهْرُ أَنْ أَعيشَ بيَأْسي

My yesterday is lost—and where now is my past?

And Fate decreed that I must live in despair.

وقَضَى الحبُّ في سُكونٍ مُريعٍ

ساعَةَ الموتِ بَيْنَ سُخْطٍ وبُؤْسِ

And Love expired in a terrifying silence,

At the hour of death, betwixt wrath and misery.

لمْ تُخَلِّفْ ليَ الحَيَاةُ من الأَمسِ

سِوى لوعَةٍ تَهُبُّ وتُرْسي

Life has left me nothing of my yesterdays,

Save for a grief that storms then drops its anchor,

تَتَهادَى مَا بَيْنَ غَصَّاتِ قلبي

بسُكُونٍ وبينَ أَوجاعِ نَفْسي

Swaying gently amidst the stifled sobs of my heart,

In stillness, amidst the torments of my soul.

كَخيالٍ من عالَمِ الموتِ يَنْسابُ

بصَمْتٍ مَا بَيْنَ رَمْسٍ وَرَمْسِ

Like a phantom gliding from the realm of death,

Moving in silence between tomb and tomb.

تِلْكَ أَوجاعُ مهجةٍ عَذَّبتها

في جحيمِ الحَيَاةِ أَطْيَافُ نَحْسِ

Such are the pains of a spirit tormented

In the hell of life by specters of misfortune.