عادَت رِياضُ القَوافي وَهيَ حالِيَةٌ

وَكانَ صَوَّحَ فيها الزَهرُ وَالعُشُبُ

The gardens of poetry have regained their vitality,

The gardens of rhyme have returned, adorned in finery,

The flowers and grass flourishing once again.

After the flowers and grass within them had withered away.

وَاِستَرجَعَت دَولَةُ الأَقلامِ نَخوَتَها

وَكانَ أَدرَكَها الإِعياءُ وَالتَعَبُ

The inkwells have renewed their vigor,

The realm of the quill has regained its noble spirit,

After languishing in exhaustion and toil-

After exhaustion and weariness had overtaken it.

بِشاعِرٍ عَبقَرِيٍّ في قَصائِدِهِ

عِطرٌ وَخَمرٌ وَسِحرٌ رائِقٌ عَجَبُ

Thanks to a master poet whose verses

Through a genius poet, in whose verses lie

Are fragrant, intoxicating, beautifully enchanting.

Fragrance, and wine, and a pure, wondrous magic.

فَاِشرَب بِروحِكَ خَمراً كُلُّها أَرَجٌ

وَاِنشُق بِروحِكَ عِطراً كُلُّهُ طَرَبُ

Savor with your soul wine wholly aromatic,

So drink with your soul a wine that is entirely scent,

Inhale with your soul a scent wholly delightful.

And inhale with your spirit a fragrance that is pure rapture.

وَاِمرَح بِدُنيا جَمالٍ مِن تَصَوُّرِهِ

فَإِنَّها السِحرُ إِلّا أَنَّهُ أَدَبُ

Revel in a world of beauty from his imagination-

And rejoice in a world of beauty born of his imagination,

It is sorcery, though of literary refinement.

For it is sorcery, save that it is literature.

وَاِلبِس مَطارِفَ حاكَتها يَراعَتُهُ

تَبقى عَلَيكَ وَيَبلى الخَزُّ وَالقَصَبُ

Don his well-tailored garments and they will remain,

And don the cloaks that his reed pen has woven;

While silk and satin fray and tear away.

They shall endure upon you, while silk and brocade wear thin.

كَم دُرَّةٍ يَتَمَنّى البَحرُ لَو نُسِبَت

إِلَيهِ باتَت إِلى مَسعودَ تَنتَسِبُ

How many gems the sea wishes were ascribed

How many pearls the sea wishes were attributed

To it - they belong to Mas'ud, that cannot be denied.

To itself, yet they have come to belong to Massoud.

لَو أَنَّها فيهِ لَم تَهتَج غَوارِبُهُ

لَكِنَّها لِسِواهُ فَهوَ يَصطَخِبُ

Were they to adorn its depths, waves would not roar,

Had they remained within the deep, its waves would not rage,

But belonging to another, angrily they stir and pour.

But they belong to another, so it crashes in clamor.

فَلا جَناحٌ إِذا ما قالَ شاعِرُنا

لِلبَحرِ يا بَحرُ أَغلى الدُرِّ ما أَهَبُ

No offense if our poet says to the sea:

So there is no fault if our poet says

“O sea, the finest pearls are not yours to keep!”

To the sea: "O Sea, the most precious pearls are what I bestow."

يا شاعِرَ اَلدَيرِ كَم هَلهَلتَ قافِيَةً

غَنّى الرُواةُ بِها وَاِختالَتِ الكُتُبُ

O poet of the monastery, how you have revived meter,

O Poet of the Convent, how many rhymes have you finely spun,

Singers chant it, books are enlivened with its spirit.

That narrators have sung, and books have carried with pride.

طَلاقَةُ الفَجرِ فيها وَهوَ مُنبَثِقٌ

وَرِقَّةُ الماءِ فيها وَهوَ مُنسَكِبُ

The fluidity of dawn as it emerges,

In them lies the freedom of the dawn as it breaks,

The softness of water as it spills and surges,

And the softness of water as it pours forth.

مَرَّت عَلى هَضَباتِ الدَيرِ هائِمَةً

فَكادَ يورِقُ فيها الصَخرُ وَالحَطَبُ

Have coursed over the monastery's plateaus,

They passed over the hills of the Convent, wandering in love,

Nearly bringing to bloom its stone and timber.

Until the very rocks and firewood nearly sprouted leaves.

إِذا تَساقى النُدامى الراحَ صافِيَةً

كانَت قَوافيكَ في الراحِ الَّتي شَرِبوا

When boon companions imbibe wine pure and clear,

When drinking companions share the pure vintage,

Your rhymes are in the drink they sip and they cheer.

Your rhymes are infused within the wine they sip.

فَأَنتَ في أَلسُنِ الأَشياخِ إِن نَطَقوا

وَأَنتَ في هِمَمِ الشُبّانِ إِن وَثَبوا

You are on the tongues of the elders when they speak,

You are upon the tongues of the elders when they speak,

You are in the hearts of youth when they leap.

And in the aspirations of the youth when they leap to strive.

مَسعودُ عيدُكَ وَالشَهرُ الجَميلُ مَعاً

قَد أَقبَلا وَأَنا في الأَرضِ أَضطَرِبُ

Mas'ud, your feast day and this beautiful month arrive,

Massoud, your feast day and the beautiful month together

As I remain far, restless, and deprived.

Have arrived, while I toss restlessly across the land.

يَحُزُّ نَفسِيَ أَنّي اليَومَ مُبتَعِدٌ

وَأَنتَ مِن حَولِكَ الأَنصارُ وَالصُحُبُ

It grieves me that today I am distanced,

It cuts deep into my soul that I am distant today,

While your supporters and friends are around you.

While you are surrounded by supporters and friends.

البيدُ وَالناسُ ما بَيني وَبَينَكُمُ

لَيتَ المَهامِهَ تُطوى لي فَأَقتَرِبُ

The expanse and people separate you and I -

Deserts and crowds stand between me and you;

Would that this vast space for me could be defied,

Would that the wastelands were folded beneath me, that I might draw near.

ما كانَ أَسعَدَني لَو كُنتُ بَينَكُمُ

كَيما يُؤَدّي لِساني بَعضَ ما يَجِبُ

That I could draw near and fulfill in part

How happy I would have been were I among you,

What one should say and do on your behalf.

That my tongue might fulfill a fraction of its duty,

لِصاحِبٍ أَنا تَيّاهٌ بِصُحبَتِهِ

وَشاعِرٍ طالَما تاهَت بِهِ العَرَبُ

For a companion I ache in his absence,

To a friend in whose companionship I glory,

A poet with whom the Arabs have always been enthralled.

And a poet of whom the Arabs have long been proud.