هِيَ الدارُ ماحالَت لَعَمري عُهودُها

هِيَ الدارُ ماحالَت لَعَمري عُهودُها

وَلا اِفتَقَدَت مِن زَيِّها غَيرَ ناسِها

وَلا اِفتَقَدَت مِن زَيِّها غَيرَ ناسِها

This is the dwelling—by my life, its familiar features have not changed;

That abode whose glories did not last, alas,

nor has it lost anything of its appearance except its people.

Now mourns with all but people passed away,

فَكَم حَلَّها مِن ضَيغَمٍ في عَرينِهِ

فَكَم حَلَّها مِن ضَيغَمٍ في عَرينِهِ

وَكَم سَكَنَتها ظَبيَّةٌ في كِناسِها

وَكَم سَكَنَتها ظَبيَّةٌ في كِناسِها

How many a lion has occupied it, within his lair,

With beasts now making lair midst every room,

and how many a doe has dwelt in it, within her covert.

And birds now nesting on the towers in play.