لِمَن غُرَّةٌ تَنجَلي مِن بَعيد
بِمَرأىً كَما الحُلمُ ضاحَ سَعيد
For whom is there a radiance unveiled from afar
In sight, like a dream suddenly made joyful?
تَهُزُّ الوُجودَ تَباشيرُها
كَما هَزَّ مِن والِدَيهِ الوَليد
Its tidings shake existence,
As an infant shook its parents.
وَيَغشى الدُنا مِن حُلاها سَنىً
أَضاءَ لَنا كُلَّ حالٍ نَضيد
And it covers the abodes with its beauty,
Illuminating for us every condition we settle in.
مِنَ المَوجِ مُلتَمِعٌ مِثلَما
تَحَلَّت نُحورُ الدُمى بِالعُقود
The waves gather like
The smooth necks were adorned with necklaces.
أَتَتنا مِنَ الماءِ مُهتَزَّةً
مُنَوِّرَةً تَعتَلي لِلوُجود
It came to us from the water, quivering,
Lighting up, rising into existence,
وَتَصعَدُ مِن غَيرِ ما سُلَّمٍ
فَيا لِلمُصَوِّرِ هَذا الصُعود
And ascending without any ladder.
What an ascent this painter made!
وَهَذا المُنيرُ القَريبُ القَريب
وَهَذا المُنيرُ البَعيدُ البَعيد
This nearby, nearby luminary,
This far, far luminary,
وَهَذا المُنيرُ الَّذي لَن يُرى
وَهَذا المُنيرُ وَكُلٌّ شَهيد
This luminary that will not be seen,
This luminary, each a witness,
وَهَذا الجُسامُ الخَفيفُ الخُطا
وَهَذا الجُسامُ الَّذي ما يَميد
This nimble, delicate body,
This body that does not waver,
وَيا لِلمُصَوِّرِ آثارَها
بِكُلِّ بِحارٍ وَفي كُلِّ بيد
What traces did the painter make
In every sea and in every hand!
وَتَقليلِها كُلَّ جَمِّ السَنا
وَتَصغيرِها كُلَّ عالٍ مَشيد
He diminished every lofty mountain,
Made small every firm, established edifice.
مِنَ النارِ لَكِنَّ أَطرافَها
تَدورُ بِياقوتَةٍ لَن تَبيد
Of fire, but its edges
Revolve with an unfading ruby,
مِنَ النارِ لَكِنَّ أَنوارَها
إِلَهِيَّةٌ زُيِّنَت لِلعَبيد
Of fire, but its lights
Are divine, adorned for the servants.
هِيَ الشَمسُ كانَت كَما شاءَها
مَماتُ القَديمِ حَياةُ الجَديد
It is the sun, however it desired to be,
The death of the ancient, life of the new,
تَرُدُّ المِياهَ إِلى حَدِّها
وَتُبلي جِبالَ الصَفا وَالحَديد
It holds back the waters to their limit,
Melting the mountains of loftiness and steel,
وَتَطلُعُ بِالعَيشِ أَو بِالرَدى
عَلى الزَرعِ قائِمِهِ وَالحَصيد
It rises with life or destruction
Upon the standing crops and harvest,
وَتَسعى لِذا الناسِ مَهما سَعَت
بِخَيرِ الوُعودِ وَشَرِّ الوَعيد
It hastens to the people no matter how it hastens
With the best promises and worst threats,
وَقَد تَتَجَلّى إِذا أَقبَلَت
بِنُعمى الشَقِيِّ وَبُؤسى السَعيد
It may show kindness when it approaches
With the bliss of the wretched and misery of the happy,
وَقَد تَتَوَلّى إِذا أَدبَرَت
وَلَيسَت بِمَأمونَةٍ أَن تَعود
It may abandon when it turns away,
And it is not to be trusted that it will return.
فَما لِلغُروبِ يَهيجُ الأَسى
وَكانَ الشُروقُ لَنا أَيَّ عيد
So why does sunset stir up sorrow,
When sunrise was such a feast for us?
كَذا المَرءُ ساعَةَ ميلادِهِ
وَساعَةَ يَدعو الحِمامُ العَنيد
Thus is man in the hour of his birth,
And the hour when the obstinate dove calls,
وَلَيسَ بِجارٍ وَلا واقِعٍ
سِوى الحَقِّ مِمّا قَضاهُ المُريد
And there is neither neighbor nor reality,
Except the truth of what the desirous one decreed.
