ما يُرتَجى بِالشَيءِ لَيسَ بِنافِعِ
ما لِلخُطوبِ وَلِلزَمانِ الفاجِعِ
What is hoped for is not made useful by the thing itself
Nor by tribulations, nor by cruel time
وَلَقَلَّ يَومٌ مَرَّ بي أَو لَيلَةٌ
لَم يَقرَعا كَبِدي بِخَطبٍ رائِعِ
Rarely a day or night has passed me by
Without wringing my heart with great distress
كَم مِن أَسيرِ العَقلِ في شَهَواتِهِ
ظَفِرَ الهَوى مِنهُ بِعَقلٍ ضائِعِ
How many slaves of passion in their lusts
Are conquered by desire, their reason lost
سُبحانَ مَن قَهَرَ المُلوكَ بِقُدرَةٍ
وَسِعَت جَميعَ الخَلقِ ذاتِ بَدائِعِ
Glory to Him who rules all kings by might
Whose wonders fill the breadth of all creation
أَيُّ الحَوادِثِ لَيسَ يَشهَدُ أَنَّهُ
صُنعٌ وَيَشهَدُ بِاِقتِدارِ الصانِعِ
What events fail to testify that they
Are made by One whose power is never wrong
ما الناسُ إِلّا كَاِبنِ أُمٍّ واحِدٍ
لَولا اِختِلافُ مَذاهِبٍ وَطَبائِعِ
All people are but sons of a single mother
Were it not for clashing creeds and natures torn
وَالحَقُّ في المَجرى أَغَرُّ مُحَجَّلٌ
تَلقاكَ غُرَّتُهُ بِنورٍ ساطِعِ
Truth in its channel glitters, pink pearls strewn
Whose sparkling shells the riverbed adorn
ما خَيرُ مَن يُدعى لِيُحرِزَ حَظَّهُ
مِن دينِهِ فَيَكونُ غَيرَ مُطاوِعِ
No good in one who's called to save his soul
Yet pays no heed to faith's divine accord
ما لِاِمرِئٍ عَيشٌ بِغَيرِ بَقائِهِ
ماذا تُحِسُّ يَدٌ بَغَيرِ أَصابِعِ
Without man's permanence he has no life
What can a hand sense lacking fingers for?
أَتُطالِعُ الآمالَ مُنتَظِراً وَلا
تَدري لَعَلَّ المَوتَ أَوَّلُ طالِعِ
I gaze on hopes expecting them, not knowing
Perhaps my death will be the first to rise
وَإِذا اِبنُ آدَمَ حَلَّ في أَكفانِهِ
حَلَّ اِبنُ أُمِّكَ في المَكانِ الشاسِعِ
When man is shrouded in his winding sheets
Your mother's son in ample earth shall lie
وَإِذا الخَطوبُ جَرَت عَلَيكَ بِوَقعِها
تَرَكَتكَ بَينَ مُفَجَّعِ أَو فاجِعِ
And when disasters strike you with their weight
Leave you distraught or struck by what you see
كَم مِن مُنىً مَثُلَت لِقَلبِكَ لَم تَكُن
إِلّا بِمَنزِلَةِ السَرابِ اللامِعِ
How many wishes seemed to pierce your heart
Yet were but mirages, vapors, fantasy
لُذ بِالإِلَهِ مِنَ الرَدى وَطُروقِهِ
فَتَحُلَّ مِنهُ في المَحَلِّ الواسِعِ
Take joy in God and spurn misguidance, friend
And settle in the place serenely blessed
