يا دِنشِوايَ عَلى رُباكِ سَلامُ

ذَهَبَت بِأُنسِ رُبوعِكِ الأَيّامُ

O Denshawai, peace be upon your land,

The days of your pleasant dwellings have passed.

شُهَداءُ حُكمِكِ في البِلادِ تَفَرَّقوا

هَيهاتَ لِلشَملِ الشَتيتِ نِظامُ

Witnesses of your rule scattered in the country,

Alas, the scattered will never reunite.

مَرَّت عَلَيهِم في اللُحودِ أَهِلَّةٌ

وَمَضى عَلَيهِم في القُيودِ العامُ

New moons passed over them in shackles,

And a year went by with them in chains.

كَيفَ الأَرامِلُ فيكِ بَعدَ رِجالِها

وَبِأَيِّ حالٍ أَصبَحَ الأَيتامُ

How are the widows after their husbands?

And in what state are the orphans now?

عِشرونَ بَيتاً أَقفَرَت وَاِنتابَها

بَعدَ البَشاشَةِ وَحشَةٌ وَظَلامُ

Twenty homes were emptied and inhabited

By gloom and darkness after cheerfulness.

يا لَيتَ شِعري في البُروجِ حَمائِمٌ

أَم في البُروجِ مَنِيَّةٌ وَحِمامُ

I wonder, are there doves in the constellations?

Or is there perdition and pigeons in the constellations?

نَيرونُ لَو أَدرَكتَ عَهدَ كَرومِرٍ

لَعَرَفتَ كَيفَ تُنَفَّذُ الأَحكامُ

Nero, had you lived in Cromer's days,

You would have known how laws are executed.

نوحي حَمائِمَ دِنشِوايَ وَرَوِّعي

شَعباً بِوادي النيلِ لَيسَ يَنامُ

Inspire, O doves of Denshawai, a people

In the Nile Valley who never sleep.

إِن نامَتِ الأَحياءُ حالَت بَينَهُ

سَحراً وَبَينَ فِراشِهِ الأَحلامُ

If the living slept, dreams would come between them

And their bed at night.

مُتَوَجِّعٌ يَتَمَثَّلُ اليَومَ الَّذي

ضَجَّت لِشِدَّةِ هَولِهِ الأَقدامُ

Suffering, remembering the day when

Feet shook from the horror.

السوطُ يَعمَلُ وَالمَشانِقُ أَربَعٌ

مُتَوَحِّداتٌ وَالجُنودُ قِيامُ

The whip works and the gallows are four,

United, and the soldiers standing.

وَالمُستَشارُ إِلى الفَظائِعِ ناظِرٌ

تَدمى جُلودٌ حَولَهُ وَعِظامُ

The advisor is watching the atrocities,

Bones and skins bleed around him.

في كُلِّ ناحِيَةٍ وَكُلِّ مَحَلَّةٍ

حَزعاً مِنَ المَلَأِ الأَسيَفِ زِحامُ

In every region and every neighborhood,

A crowd terrified of the naked swords.

وَعَلى وُجوهِ الثاكِلينَ كَآبَةٌ

وَعَلى وُجوهِ الثاكِلاتِ رُغامُ

On the faces of the bereaved, gloom,

And on the faces of the bereaved women, dust.