تُسائلني مَا لي سَكَتُّ ولم أُهِبْ

بقومي وديجورُ المصائبِ مُظْلِمُ

You ask me why I'm silent, not crying out

You ask me why I kept silent and did not cry out

For my people while misery's night grows dark,

To my people, while the darkness of calamity is deep,

وسَيْلُ الرَّزايا جارفٌ متدفّعٌ

غضوبٌ ووجهُ الدَّهرِ أربدُ أَقْتَمُ

And sorrow's torrent sweeps all dams aside,

And the flood of tragedy is sweeping and rushing,

Wrathful, with Fortune's face gloomiest and bleakest.

Furious, and the face of Time is ashen and grim.

سَكَتُّ وقد كانت قناتي غضَّةً

تُصيخُ إلى هَمْسِ النَّسيم وتحلُمُ

I'm silent though my soul once sighed its soft desires

I kept silent, though my branch was tender yet,

Into the breathing winds, and knew sweet dreams;

Listening closely to the breeze's whisper, dreaming.

وقلتُ وقد أصغتْ إلى الرِّيحِ مرَّةً

فجاشَ بها إعصارُهُ المتهزِّمُ

And though I spoke once while the wind bowed down to listen,

Then I spoke, when once it hearkened to the wind,

Its storm came raging over me, discomfited.

And the roaring hurricane surged within it.

وقلتُ وقد جاشَ القريضُ بخاطري

كما جاشَ صخَّابُ الأَواذي أَسْحَمُ

And though I spoke while inspiration overflowed

I spoke as poetry welled up within my soul,

Within me like the croaking frogs in rut,

Just as the clamorous, dark waves surge and roll.

أرى المجدَ معصوبَ الجبين مجدَّلاً

على حَسَكِ الآلام يغمرهُ الدَّمُ

I see Glory wounded in the brow, diademed

I see Glory with bandaged brow, cast to the ground

With anguish, drenched in blood upon the stretcher of affliction.

Upon the thorns of pain, covered in blood,

وقد كانَ وضَّاحَ الأَساريرِ باسماً

يهبُّ إلى الجلَّى ولا يَتَبَرّمُ

And Creativity was a name that stepped forth brightly

Though once he was bright of countenance, smiling,

And never balked...

Rushing to meet the crisis without complaint.

فيا أَيُّها الظُّلْمُ المصعِّرُ خَدَّهُ

رويدكَ إنَّ الدَّهْرَ يبني ويهدُمُ

O Darkness that does frown, stay your advance!

O Tyranny, turning your cheek in arrogance,

Time destroys but also builds.

Take heed, for Time builds up and tears down.

سيثأرُ للعزِّ المحطّم تاجُهُ

رجالٌ إِذا جاشَ الرَّدى فهُمُ هُمُ

The Crown whose grandeur lies in fragments yet

The shattered crown of Honor shall be avenged

Shall be avenged by men, when tumult stirs their blood;

By men who, when destruction boils over, are men indeed,

رجالٌ يَرَوْنَ الذُّلَّ عاراً وسُبَّةً

ولا يرْهبون الموتَ والموتُ مقدمُ

Men who see degradation as dishonour and abasement

Men who see humiliation as shame and disgrace,

And do not fear the notice of death drawing near;

And fear not death, even when death advances.

وهل تعتلي إلاَّ نُفُوسٌ أَبيَّةٌ

تصدِّع أَغلالَ الهوانِ وتحطِمُ

And nothing scales the battlements of purpose

For do any rise high but those proud, defiant souls

But souls who smash the fetters of disgrace and smash them.

That crack the chains of ignominy and shatter them?