جاءَ الرَبيعُ وَرَوضُهُ المَمطورُ

مِن نَورِهِ الباكي يُضاحِكُ نورُ

Spring has come with its rain-watered meadow

Its weeping light makes light laugh

تُذري الجُفونُ دُموعَهُ فَكَأَنَّهُ ال

مَحزونُ وَهوَ العاشِقُ المَسرورُ

Eyelids shed its tears as if it is not

A grieving lover but a joyous lover

هَل جاءَ مِن صَنعاءَ تاجِرُ بَزِّهِ

فَالوَشيُ مِن مَطوِيِّهِ مَنشورُ

Has a merchant come from Sanaa with his goods

His fabrics being taken out of his bags

صاغَت بِهِ الأَيدي أَكُفّاً مِن يَوا

قيتٍ نُظِمنَ فَحَبَّذا المَنثورُ

Hands have made bracelets out of strung

Carnelian, a blessed scattered necklace

وَبِهِ البَنَفسِجُ عُقِّدَت أَصداغُهُ

وَكَأَنَّهُ مُتَنَفِّساً مَخمورُ

Violets have been strung at their temples

As if they are drunk and taking deep breaths

زَهَراتُ نَرجِسِهِ تَضَوَّعُ عَنبَراً

مِن زَعفَرانٍ ضَمَّهُ كافورُ

Narcissus flowers give off ambergris fragrance

That camphor has gathered with saffron

يَرنو بِأَعيُنِ غانِياتٍ ما بِها

مِن نَعسَةٍ لَكِن بِهِنَّ فُتورُ

They wink at the eyes of singing slave-girls

Who have no drowsiness but languor in them

شَقَّ الشَقيقُ جُيوبَهُ طَرَباً وَقَد

غَنّى الهَزارُ وَغَرَّدَ الشُحرورُ

Anemones have ripped open their dresses in rapture

And the warblers have trilled and bullfinches chirped

مِن أَينَ يوجَدُ لِلقُلوبِ سُكونُها

وَالماءُ فيهِ كَأَنَّهُ مَذعورُ

Where can hearts find their peace

When the water in it seems turbulent

فَصلُ الرَبيعِ هُوَ الشَبابُ مُحَبَّباً

إِنَّ الشَبابَ زَمانُهُ مَشكورُ

The season of spring is beloved youth

Indeed, the spring of youth is a blessed time

وَيَهُزُّ مُعتَلُّ النَسيمِ غُصونَهُ

فَيُرى المُعانِقُ فيهِ وَالمَهجورُ

The gently blowing breeze shakes its branches

Where the embracing and the abandoned are seen

وَتُصَفِّقُ الأَوراقُ في أَغصانِهِ

فَتَنوحُ مِنها بِالغَرامِ طُيورُ

Leaves clap in its branches

So birds lament their love from it

صِيغَت بِهِ حُلَلُ الشَقيقِ فَيا لَها

شُقراً لِقَلبي عِندَهُنَّ شُقورُ

Dresses are tailored for anemones, oh how

They have cleavage that breaks my heart

وَكَأَنَّنا بِالوَردِ يُرسَلُ رائِداً

قَد حُلَّ عَنهُ قباؤُهُ المَزرورُ

It is as if the roses have sent a scout

Who has taken off his worn-out cloak

نَظَمَت خُدودَ الوَردِ عَربَدَةُ الصِبى

فَتَبَسَّمَت لِلأُقحُوانِ ثُغورُ

The peach fuzz on rose cheeks is the mischief of boys

So mouths/lips smiled at the dimples

وَالزَهرُ مَنظومٌ عَلى دَوحاتِهِ

وَعَلى بِساطِ رِياضِهِ مَنثورُ

Flowers are threaded on its branches

And scattered on the carpet of its meadows

ما هَبَّ مَمدودُ الهَواءِ لَنا بِهِ

إِلّا لِيَزدادَ الهَوى المَقصورُ

The outstretched air has not brought us

Anything but to increase imprisoned passion

أَحسِن بِهِ في الدَهرِ زَوراً عِندَهُ

عِندَ التَأَمُّلِ كُلُّ زَورٍ زُورُ

Feign in the world its visit as good

In contemplation, all hypocrisy is hypocrisy

فَكَأَنَّ باكوراتِهِ في نَشرِها

تُهدي ثَناءً حازَهُ بَكرورُ

It is as if its first fruits in blooming

Pay tribute to the early risen

بَطَلٌ بِهِ الإيمانُ أَصبَحَ آمِناً

وَالكُفرُ مِنهُ قَلبُهُ مَذعورُ

Faith has triumphed, it has become safe

And disbelief, its heart terrified by it

شَهِدَت مِنَ الأَعداءِ يَومَ نِزالِهِ

بِسُطاهُ أَكبادٌ لَهُ وَنُحورُ

It has witnessed from enemies on the day of battle

Livers exposed for it and throats

فَرِماحُهُ ما إِن تَزالُ لَدى الوَغى

تَندَقُّ مِنها في الصُدورِ صُدورُ

Its spears, when in the heat of battle

Pierce chests, chests pierce chests

وَلِسَيفِهِ المَشهورِ في قِمَمِ العِدا

ضَربٌ يُفَلِّقُ هامَهُم مَشهورُ

Its famous sword on the summits of enemies

Has a renowned strike that splits their skulls

فَبِبَأسِهِ فيهِم تُهَدُّ مَعاقِلٌ

شُمُّ الذُرى وَبِهِ تُسَدُّ ثُغورُ

So by its might against them, fortresses collapse

Evil is sniffed out and breaches are closed by it

مِنهُ بِلادُ الكُفرِ تُرعَدُ خيفَةً

وَإِلَيهِ مَن في صورَ خَوفاً صورُ

By it the lands of disbelief thunder in fear

And those in Syria seek it in fear

ما كَرَّ إِلّا قالَتِ الأَقيالُ في

يَومِ الوَغى بكرورُ يا مَنصورُ

Whenever it attacked, the vanguards said

On the day of battle, “Victory, oh Mansur!”

فَحَديثُهُ بِسَماحِهِ وَكِفاحِهِ

في كَسبِهِ عالي العُلا مَأثورُ

So its discourse of its tolerance and struggle

In its lofty earning is well-known

في الجَدبِ وَالحَربِ العَوانِ كَأَنَّهُ

لَيثٌ وَغَيثٌ هامِرٌ وَهَصورُ

In drought and war supporters as if it is

A lion, rain, talkative, and wide-eyed

قَلبي بِصِدقِ وَلاءِ شَمسِ الدينِ مَغ

مورٌ وَرَبعي بِالنَدى مَعمورُ

My heart is flooded by the sincerity of the loyalty to the Sun of the Religion

And my terrain is populated by dew

وافى إِلَيَّ رَسولُهُ بِنَوالِهِ

فَشَكَرتُهُ إِنَّ المُحِبَّ شَكورُ

Its messenger has come to me with his gift

So I thanked him, indeed the lover is grateful

لي ماءُ وَجهٍ صينَ عَن إِهراقِهِ

عِندَ المُلوكِ وَإِنَّهُ مَوفورُ

I have the water of a face that is guarded from shedding

In the presence of kings and it is abundant

هَذا وَفَضلي شائِعٌ جِدّاً وَلَف

ظي اللُؤلُؤُ المَنظومُ وَالمَنثورُ

This while my superiority is widely circulating

My prose and poetry being the strung pearls and the scattered

وَلَوَ اَنَّني يَمَّمتُهُم لَتَغَيَّبَت

عَن حَضرَتي عُصَبٌ هُناكَ حُضورُ

If I were to gather them, company would be

Deprived of my presence there while present

لَكِن لُعابُ النَحلِ حُلوٌ طَعمُهُ

لَو لَم يُذَبذِب حَولَهُ الزُنبورُ

But the nectar of bees is sweet in taste

Even if the wasps waver around it

وَعَلَيَّ مِن حُلَلِ القَناعَةِ حُلَّةٌ

إِنّي لَمُختالٌ بِها وَفَخورُ

And I have the dress of contentment to wear

I strut around with it and I am proud

ما لي إِلى وُدِّ المَطامِعِ في الوَرى

يَوماً رَواحٌ يَقتَفيهِ بُكورُ

I do not yearn for the affection of the ambitious in the world

A comfort that the early riser attains

أَنتَ الأَميرُ فَعِشتَ أَطيَبَ عيشَةٍ

وَالناسُ كُلُّهُم لَكَ المَأمورُ

You are the prince, so you have lived the most delightful life

And all the people are under your command

فَعَلى البِلادِ عَلا مَنابِر فَخرِهِ

في العالَمينَ بِمَجدِكَ الشاغورُ

So the platforms of its pride became high over the two worlds

Through your glorious reign Al-Shaughoor

فَتُرابُهُ المِسكُ الأَريجُ وَنَبتُهُ الر

رَيحانُ طيباً وَالمِياهُ خُمورُ

Its soil is aromatic musk, its plantation fragrant

Sweet basil, its waters are wines

لا زِلتَ في عِزٍّ وَسَعدٍ دائِمٍ

أَو يَنتَحي لِلنَفخِ فيهِ الصُورُ

May you remain forever in power and good fortune

Or the Horn is blown in which is the Resurrection