أَيّارُ يا شاعِرَ الشُهورِ

وَبَسمَةَ الحُبِّ في الدُهورِ

O spring, O poet of the months

May, O poet of the months,

And smile of love through the ages

And smile of love throughout the ages,

وَخالِقَ الزَهرِ في الرَوابي

وَخالِقَ العِطرِ في الزُهورِ

And creator of flowers on the meadows

Creator of flowers upon the hills,

And creator of fragrance in blossoms

And creator of fragrance within the blooms,

وَباعِثَ الماءِ ذا خَريرٍ

وَموجِدَ السِحرِ في الخَريرِ

And sender of rippling water

Who sets the water flowing with a murmur,

And inventor of magic in the rippling

And places magic within that murmuring stream,

وَغاسِلَ الأُفق وَالدَراري

وَالأَرضِ بَِلنور وَالعَبيرِ

And washer of horizons and valleys

Who washes the horizon and the shining stars,

And earth with light and scent

And the earth with light and perfume,

لَقَد كَسَوتَ الثَرى لِباساً

أَجمَلَ عِندي مِنَ الحَريرِ

You have clothed the soil in a garment

You have clothed the soil in a garment

More beautiful to me than silk

More beautiful to my eyes than silk.

ما فيكَ قَر وَلا هَجيرٌ

ذَهَبتَ بِالقَر وَالهَجيرِ

You have neither discontent nor desolation

In you there is no biting cold nor scorching heat;

You have taken away discontent and desolation

You have swept away the frost and the blaze.

فَلا ثُلوجٌ عَلى الرَوابي

وَلا غَمامٌ عَلى البُدورِ

So there is no snow on the meadows

No snow remains upon the hills,

And no clouds over homesteads

Nor clouds obscuring the full moons.

أَتَيتَ فَالكَونُ مِهرَجانٌ

مِنَ اللَذاذات وَالحُبورِ

You came so the universe is celebration

You have arrived, and the universe is a festival

Of joys and loves

Of delights and jubilation.

أَيقَظتَ في الأَنفُسِ الأَماني

وَالاِبتِساماتِ في الثُغورِ

You awakened in souls their wishes

You awakened hopes within souls,

And smiles in faces

And smiles upon the lips.

وَكُدتَ تُحيِ المَوتى البَوالي

وَتُنبِتُ العُشبَ في الصُخورِ

You almost revived the dead ruins

You nearly revive the decaying dead,

And grew grass on boulders

And cause grass to sprout from the rocks.

وَتَجعَلُ الشَوكَ ذا أَريجٍ

وَتَجعَلُ الصَخرَ ذا شُعورِ

And made the thorns aromatic

You make the thorns fragrant,

And made the rocks sensitive

And grant feeling to the stones.

فَأَينَما سِرتُ صَوتُ بُشرى

وَكَيفَما مِلُ طَيفُ نورِ

So wherever I went, good tidings sounded

Wherever I walk, there is a voice of glad tidings,

And however I turned, light caressed

And wherever I turn, a specter of light.

تَشكو إِلَيكَ الشِتاءَ نَفسي

وَما جَناهُ مِنَ الشُرورِ

My soul complains to you about winter

My soul complains to you of the winter,

And the evils it brought

And the evils it has wrought.

كَم لَذَّعَ الزَمهَريرُ جِلدي

وَدَبَّ حَتّى إِلى ضَميري

How the bitter cold lashed my skin

How often the bitter cold stung my skin,

And crept into my conscience

And crept even into my very conscience.

فَلُذتُ بِالصوفِ أَتَّقيهِ

فَاِختَرَقَ الصوفُ كَالحَريزِ

I took to wool to protect myself

I sought refuge in wool to ward it off,

But it penetrated like a sieve

But it pierced the wool, that heavy shield.

وَكَم لَيالٍ جَلَستُ وَحدي

مِنقَبِضَ الصَدرِ كَالأَسيرِ

And how many nights I sat alone

How many nights have I sat alone,

With chest contracted like a captive

My chest constricted like a prisoner's,

يَهتَزُّ مَعَ أَنمُلي كِتابي

وَيَرجُفُ الحِبرُ في السُطورِ

My book tremors with my numb fingers

My book trembling in my fingertips,

And the ink quivers on the pages

And the ink shivering within the lines.

تُعوِلُ فيها الرِياحُ حَولي

كَنائِحاتٍ عَلى أَميرِ

The winds howl around me

The winds wailing around me there,

Like mourners for a prince

Like mourners weeping over a prince.

وَالغَيثُ يَهمي بِلا اِنقِطعٍ

وَالرَعدُ مُستَتبِعُ الزَئيرِ

And the rain pours ceaselessly

The rain pouring down without cease,

With thunder roaring behind

And thunder following with its roar.

وَاللَيلُ مُحلَولِكُ الحَواشي

وَصامِتُ البَدء وَالأَخيرِ

And the night undoing its edges

The night, pitch-black at its edges,

Silent at beginning and end

Silent from beginning to end.

وَالشُهبُ مُرتاعَةٌ كَطَيرٍ

مُختَبِئاتٍ مِنَ الصُقورِ

And falling stars startled like birds

And the stars are terrified like birds,

Hiding from falcons

Hiding away from the hawks.

في غُرفَتي مَوقِدٌ صَغيرٌ

لِلَّهِ مِن مَوقِدي الصَغيرِ

In my room, a small fireplace

In my room is a small hearth—

By Allah, from my small fireplace

God help me with my small hearth!

يَكادُ يَنقَدُّ جانِباهُ

مِن شِدَّةِ الغَيظِ لا السَعيرِ

Its sides nearly melt

Its sides nearly burst apart

Not from heat but from rage

From sheer rage, not from the flame.

لَولا لَظاهُ رَقَصتُ فيها

بِغَيرِ دُفٍّ عَلى سَريرِ

Were it not so fiery I would dance around it

Were it not for its blaze, I would have danced there,

With no drums on my carpet

Without a drum, shivering upon my bed.

وَساعَةٍ وَجهُها صَفيقو

كَأَنَّهُ وَجهُ مُستَعيرِ

And an hourglass with a gloomy face

And a clock with a brazen face,

As if borrowed from a usurer

Like the face of a borrower,

أَبطَأَ في السَيرِ عَقرَباها

فَأَبطَأَ الوَقتُ في المَسيرِ

Its hands slowed on their course

Its hands moved ever so slowly,

So time slowed in its march

So time itself dragged in its course.

حَتّى كَأَنَّ الزَمانَ أَعمى

يَمشي عَلى الشَوكِ في الوُعورِ

Until it seemed time had gone blind

As though Time were blind,

Walking on thorns in rough terrain

Walking on thorns in rugged lands.

كُنّا طَوَينا المُنى وَقُلنا

ما لِلأَماني مِنها عَلى قُبورِ

We had folded up our wishes and said

We had folded away our hopes and said,

No dreams remain by graves

There is no return for hopes from the graves.

فَلَو يَزورُ الصُدورَ حُلمٌ

عَرَّجَ مِنها عَلى قُبورِ

If a dream would visit hearts

If a dream were to visit our hearts,

And pass by the graves

It would turn from them towards the tombs.

لَقَد تَوَلّى الشِتاءُ عَنّا

فَصَفِّقي يا مُنى وَطيري

Winter has surely turned from us

But now winter has departed from us,

So clap, my wishes, and fly!

So clap your hands, O hopes, and fly!