كُنتُ حِلفَ النَدى وربَّ السَماحِ

وَحَبيبَ النُفوسِ وَالأَرواحِ

I used to swear by the dew and the Lord of forgiveness,

The beloved of souls and spirits,

إِذ يَميني لِلبَذل يَومَ العَطايا

ولقبض الأَرواحِ يَومَ الكِفاحِ

When my right hand was for generosity on days of gifts,

And for taking souls on days of struggle,

وَشِمالي لَقَبضِ كُلِّ عنانٍ

يُقحِمُ الخَيلَ في مَجال الرِماحِ

While my left hand was for grabbing every rein,

That drives horses into the field of spears,

وَأَنا اليَومَ رَهنُ أسرٍ وَفَقرٍ

مُستَباحُ الحِمى مَهيضُ الجَناحِ

Yet today I am a hostage of captivity and poverty,

My sanctuary violated, my wings broken,

لا أُجِيبُ الصَريخَ إِن حَضَرَ النا

س وَلا المُعتَفين يَومَ السَماحِ

I cannot answer the scream if people come begging,

Nor the supplicants on days of forgiveness,

عادَ بِشري الَّذي عهدتَ عُبوسا

شَغَلَتني الأَشجانُ عَن أَفراحي

My cheerful face that you knew has returned sullen,

Preoccupations have distracted me from my joys,

فالتِماحي إِلى العُيون كريهٌ

وَلَقَد كانَ نزهةَ اللَمّاحِ

So being playful with the eyes is now tedious,

Though it was once an amusement for the flirtatious.