مِثلِيَ هَذا النَجمُ في سُهدِهِ

وَمِثلُهُ المَحبوبُ في بُعدِهِ

Like this star in its setting

This star is like me in its sleepless vigil,

And like the beloved in his absence

And the beloved is like it in his remoteness.

يَختالُ في عَرضِ السَما تائِهاً

كَأَنَّما يَختالُ في بُردِهِ

Strutting across the expanse of the sky, wandering

It struts across the breadth of the sky, wandering,

As though he struts in his coldness

As though it were parading in its royal cloak.

إِن شِئتَ فَهوَ المَلِكُ في عَرشِهِ

أَو شِئتَ فَهوَ الطِفلُ في مَهدِهِ

If you wish, he is the king on his throne

If you wish, he is a king upon his throne,

Or if you wish, he is the babe in his cradle

Or if you wish, a child within his cradle.

يَرمَقُنو شَذَراً كَأَنّي بِهِ

يَحسَبُني أَطمَعُ في مَجدِهِ

He glances at me as though I covet

He glances at me askance, as if—I feel—

His glory, while he deems me greedy

He reckons that I covet his glory.

يَسعى وَلا يَسعى إِلى غايَةٍ

كَمَن يَرى الغايَةَ في جَدِّهِ

He hustles but hustles not toward an end

He strives, yet strives toward no goal,

Like one who finds purpose in his seriousness

Like one who sees the end in the striving itself.

كَأَنَّما يَبحَثُ عَن ضائِعٍ

لا يَستَطيعُ الصَبرَ مِن بَعدِهِ

It's as though he seeks something lost

As though he searches for something lost,

Unable to endure the separation

Unable to bear patience since its departure.

طالَ سُراه وَهوَ في حَيرَةٍ

كَأَنَّهُ المَحزونُ في وَجدِهِ

Long has his vigil been, lost in confusion

His night journey is long, and he is bewildered,

Like the grieved one in his torment

As though he were the grieving lover in his passion.

في جُنحِ لَيلٍ حالِكٍ فاحِمٍ

كَأَنَّ حَظِيَ قُدَّ مِن جِلدِهِ

On the wings of a grim, blazing night

In the wing of a pitch-black, coal-dark night,

As though my lot had fled its skin

As if my fortune were cut from its very hide.

لا يَحسُدُ الأَعمى بِهِ مُبصِراً

كِلاهُما قَد ضَلَّ عَن قَصدِهِ

The blind envy him not, beholding

Where the blind man need not envy the sighted,

Both have strayed from the path

For both have gone astray from their intent.

ساوَرَني الهَم وَساوَرتُهُ

ما أَعجَزَ الإِنسانَ عَن رَدِّهِ

Worry beset me and I beset it

Anxiety assailed me, and I assailed it;

How feeble is man against diverting it

How helpless is man to repel it!

ما أَعجَبَ الدَهر وَأَطوارَهُ

في عَينِ مَن يُمعِنُ في نَقدِهِ

How wondrous is fate and its cycles

How strange is Time and its shifting phases,

In the eye of one who examines its critique

In the eye of one who examines it deeply.

جَرَّبتَهُ دَهراً فَما راقَني

مِن هَزلِهِ شَيء وَلا جَدِّهِ

You tried it an age, and nothing pleased me

I tested it for an age, yet nothing pleased me

Of its jest, nor its seriousness

Of its jesting, nor of its seriousness.

أَكبَرَ مِنهُ أَنَّني زاهِدٌ

ما زَهِدَ الزاهِدُ في زُهدِهِ

Greater than it, that I renounce

Greater than Time is the fact that I am an ascetic

Never did the ascetic in his asceticism renounce

Who has renounced what no ascetic ever renounced.

أَكبَرَ مِنّي ذا وَأَكبَرتُ أَن

يَطمَعَ أَن أَطمَعَ في رَفدِهِ

Greater than me, this, and I am greater

Time found this haughty of me, while I deemed it too great

That I aspire to aspire to its bestowal

That it should hope I would ever hope for its aid.

وَعَدَّني أُعجوبَةً في الوَرى

مُذ رُحتُ لا أَعجَبُ مِن حِقدِهِ

It promised me wonders in the world

It counted me a wonder among mankind,

Ever since I left, I marvel at its spite

Since I came to marvel no longer at its malice.

يا رُبَّ خَلِّ كانَ دوني نُهىً

عَجِبتُ مِن نَهسي وَمِن سَعدِهِ

Oh Lord, make below me a deterrent

Oh, how many a friend, inferior to me in mind—

I marveled at my luck and its joy

I marveled at my ill luck and at his fortune!

وَعائِشٍ يَخطُرُ فَوقَ الثَرى

أَفضَلُ مِنهُ المَيتُ في لَحدِهِ

And one who struts atop the dust

And one living, who struts upon the soil,

Better than him is the dead in his grave

Yet the dead in his grave is better than he.

أَصبَحَ يَجني الوَردَ مِن شَوكِهِ

وَبِتُّ أَجني الشَوكَ مِن وَردِهِ

He plucks roses from their thorns

He has come to gather roses from his thorns,

While I pluck thorns from their roses

While I spend the night gathering thorns from his roses.

أَكذِبُ إِن صَدَّقتُهُ بَعدَما

عَرَفتُ مِنهُ الكَذِبَ في وَعدِهِ

I lie if I believe him after

I lie if I believe Time, after

Learning his lies in his vows

I have known the falsehood in its promises.

لا أَشتَكي الضَرَّ إِذا مَسَّني

مِنه وَلا أَطرُبُ مِن رَغدِهِ

I complain not of harm when it comes

I do not complain of harm when it touches me,

From him, nor rejoice in his plenty

Nor do I rejoice in its prosperity.

أَعلَمُ أَنَّ البُؤسَ مُستَنفَذٌ

وَالرَغدُ ما لا بُدَّ مِن فَقدِهِ

I know misery is guaranteed

I know that misery is destined to pass,

And plenty is sure to vanish

And prosperity is what must inevitably be lost.

إِذا اللَيالي قَرَّبَت نازِحاً

وَكُنتَ مُشتاقاً إِلى شَهدِهِ

When nights draw near a departure

If the nights bring a distant loved one near,

And you yearn for their sweetness

And you are yearning for his sweetness,

أُمَلِّكُ عَنهُ النَفسَ في قُربِهِ

خَوفاً مِنَ الوَحشَةِ في صَدِّهِ

I divert myself from it in its nearness

I restrain my soul from him in his nearness,

Fearing the loneliness of its distance

Fearing the desolation of his rejection.

وَإِن أَرَ الحُزنَ عَلى فائِتٍ

أَضَرَّ بِيَ الحُزن وَلَم يُجدِهِ

And if I see sorrow for one gone

And if I see sorrow over what is lost,

Sorrow harmed me, not finding him

That sorrow harms me and brings no gain.