أَبا قُرب النَعِيِّ مِنَ البَشيرِ

وَيا لَيلَ المُصيبَةِ مِن سَميري

O you who bring tidings of calamity to the harbinger,

And O night of tribulation from my vigilant one,

وَيا سَيفاً حَمائِلُهُ المَعالي

وَما خِلتُ الغُمودَ مِنَ القُبورِ

And O sword whose sheaths are glories,

Never were tombs devoid of burial mounds,

وَيا ذِكراً وَيا ذَكَراً تَوَلّى

مُقيماً لِلإِناثِ وَلِلذُكورِ

And O memory, O memories that have passed

Establishing the females and the males,

وَيَأَهلَ العُلا بَكّوا هِلالاً

لَيالي التِمِّ عُدَّ مِنَ الشُهورِ

And O people of loftiness weep for a crescent

Whose nights of darkness are counted as months,

بِنَفسِيَ أَنتَ مِن نَفسٍ تَوَلَّت

وَسِرُّ عُلاً أُقِلُّ عَلى سَريرِ

You are of a soul that has passed with my soul,

And the secret of glory I confide in my bed,

وَأَخذُكَ مِن رِجالٍ كَالمَنايا

وَأَخذُكَ مِن قُلوبٍ كَالصُخورِ

And I took you from men who are like death,

And I took you from hearts that are like rocks,

وَقَطفُكَ مِن ذُرا شَجَرِ العَوالي

تَسَرَّبَ بَينَها خُلُجُ الذُكورِ

And I picked you from the lofty tree’s branches

Through which the torrents of masculinity seeped,

وَرَفعُكِ في حُجورٍ مِن سَماءِ

وَحَطُّكَ مِن سَماءٍ في جُحورِ

And I raised you in the laps of heaven,

And I brought you down from heaven into lairs,

وَخَطفُكَ مِن يَدٍ تَهمي وَتَحمي

فَتَختَصِمُ النِصالُ مَعَ النُحورِ

And snatched you from a hand that protects and shields

So swords and spears quarrel and clash,

وَشَيَّعتُ السَحابَ بِسُحبِ دَمعٍ

يُشَيِّعُها العَواصِفُ مِن زَفيري

And I bade farewell to clouds with tears’ downpours

Farewells ushered by storms from my whimpering,

فَمِن صَبرٍ تَداعى لِلتَداعي

وَمِن حُزنٍ تَداعى بِالنَفيرِ

So patience has collapsed into collapse,

And anguish has collapsed with a cry,

وَغَضُّكَ أَيَّ عَينٍ لَم تُجِلها

فَتَعرِفَ في العِدا عَينَ الظُهورِ

And which eye that you hid did not become bleary

Thus recognizing in enmity the eye of prejudice,

كَبيرٌ ما جَناهُ الدَهرُ فيهِ

فَلِم صَغَّرتَ ثَكلِيَ في الصَغيرِ

Great is what fate has inflicted upon him,

Why did you belittle my agony in the small,

فَيا لَلَهِ مِن هَمٍّ طَويلاٍ

وَيا لِلناسِ مِن جَفنٍ قَصيرِ

Oh what prolonged worries,

And what brief slumbers people have,

وَيا ثُكلَ الجُفونِ جَفا كَراها

وَيا هَمَّ القُلوبِ مِنَ السُرورِ

And O grief of eyelids, sorrow has desiccated them,

And O worries of hearts, of happiness,

بَني أَيّوبَ قَد أَذوَت وَأَدوَت

أُذاةُ صُدورِكُم ذاتَ الصَدورِ

O lineage of Job, you have been hurt and wounded,

The hurting of your chests with breasts,

فَيا عَجَباً لِدَفنِ النورِ لَيلاً

وَجُنحُ اللَيلِ يَجلو كُلَّ نورِ

How strange to bury light in the night,

And the wings of night unveil all light,

بَرَزنا بِالأَميرِ إِلى فَلاةٍ

يَبيتُ طَليقُها عَينَ الأَسيرِ

We marched with the prince into desolation

Whose horizons are open to the eyes of the captive,

وَوَدَّعناهُ قَلباً في ضُلوعٍ

وَأَودَعناهُ سِرّاً في ضَميرِ

And we bade him farewell with a heart in chests

And entrusted him as a secret in conscience,

وَسَلَّمناهُ دُرَّةَ أَيِّ بَحرٍ

سَنَلقاهُ قَرينَ نُحورِ حورِ

And we handed over a pearl from any sea

That we will meet at the banks of paradisiacal Houris,

رَدَدناهُ مُعاراً وَاِحتِسَبنا

فَلَم نَسخَط عَلى قَدَرِ المُعيرِ

We returned him as a loan and hoped for reward

So we were not indignant at the decree of destiny,

وَجَدَّدنا لِلُطفِ اللَهِ حَمداً

لِإِمتِناعِ العُلا بِالمُستَعيرِ

And we renewed gratitude for God’s kindness

For preventing loftiness through borrowing,

خَفَضنا أَرفَعَ الأَصواتِ فيهِ

عَلى رَفعِ الغَليلِ المُستَطيرِ

We softened the loudest lamenting for him

For raising fleeting adversity,

فَأَطلَعنا دُموعاً مِن جُفونٍ

كَما اِبتَسَمَت شِفاهٌ عَن ثُغورِ

So we shed tears from eyelids

As lips smiled revealing teeth,

وَأَدَّبَنا تَجَلُّدُ ثاكِليهِ

وَإِن نادى المَدامِعَ بِالنَفيرِ

And the composure of his bereaved disciplined us

Even as tears called for crying,

وَيُعدِمُنا العُيونَ وَلَيتَ أَنّا

حُجِبنا في الظُهورِ عَنِ الظُهورِ

And may our eyes perish, but we wish

We were veiled in appearance from appearance,

سَيُعدَمُ ذا النَسيمُ فَيا غَليلي

تَزَوَّد قَبلَ يُحجَبُ بِالقُبورِ

This gentle breeze will perish, so O my solace,

Take provisions before you are barred by tombs,

وَعَتبي لِلزَمانِ بِغَيرِ ذَنبٍ

كَما عُتِبَ الصَباحُ مِنَ البَصيرِ

And my blame of fate is without crime

As the morning was blamed by the keen-sighted,

فَلَو نَطَقَ الزَمانُ لَقالَ فينا

كَم أَرسَلَنا إِلَيهِم مِن نُذيرِ

If time could speak of us it would say

How many warners we have sent to them.