أَمَل مَيت عَلى النَفس أَلحَد
ت لَهُ مِن كَلاءة اللَهُ قَبرا
A dead hope—within my soul I entombed
for it, in God’s watchful care, a grave.
زَهَقت روحه وَفاضَت شُعاعا
قَبلَما يَنفذ الطُفولة عُمرا
Its spirit departed, overflowing as radiance
before it had passed beyond childhood in age.
كُنتُ أَحيا عَلى نَدى مِنهُ يَسا
قط بَرداً عَلى يَدي وَعطرا
I lived on its dew, as it fell
upon my hand in coolness and fragrance.
في ظِلال مَطولة أَفرَع الشعـ
ـر عَلَيها مِن الهَناءَة فَجرا
In lengthened shadows poetry branched forth
above it, as a dawn of happiness.
ثُمَ أَودى يا وَيحه ضاقَت الدُنـ
ـيا بِهِ جُهدِها إِحتِمالا وَصَبرا
Then it perished—alas for it! The world grew too strait
for it, at the limit of her endurance and patience,
بَعد ما نَضر الحَياة بِعَيني
مَضى جاهِداً وَأَعقَب أَسرا
after it had made life bloom in my eyes.
It passed away striving, and left bondage in its wake.
أَمَلي في الزَمان مصر فَحيا اللَـ
ـه مُستَودَع الثَقافة مَصرا
My hope in this age is Egypt—may God keep
Egypt alive, the repository of culture.
نَضر اللَه وَجهَها فَهِيَ ما تَز
داد إِلّا بعدا عَلَي وَعُسرا
May God make her face radiant; and she only grows
more distant from me, and harder to attain.
Sol 5.6