أَشقى البَرِيَّةِ نَفساً صاحِبُ الهِمَمِ

وَأَتعَسُ الخَلقِ حَذّاً صاحِبُ القَلَمِ

The most wretched of creatures is he of high ambitions,

The most wretched of souls is the man of high ambition,

And the unhappiest of beings is the wielder of the pen.

And the most unfortunate of creatures is the holder of the pen.

عافَ الزَمانُ بَني الدُنيا وَقَيَّدَهُ

وَالطَيرُ يُحبَسُ مِنها جَيِّدُ النَغَمِ

Time has bound the sons of this world and restricted them,

Fate spared the common folk but shackled him,

While the free-spirited bird is imprisoned from its melodies.

For among birds, only those with sweet songs are caged.

وَحَكَّمَت يَدُهُ الأَقلامَ في دَمِهِ

فَلَم تَصُنهُ وَلَم يَعدِل إِلى حَكَمِ

His hand has subjected the pens to shed his blood,

His hand made pens the arbiters of his own lifeblood,

So they did not protect him, nor treat him with justice.

Yet they offered no protection, nor could he seek another judge.

فَيا لَهُ عاشِقاً طابَ الحِمامُ لَهُ

إِنَّ المِحِبَّ لَمَجنونٌ فَلا تَلُمِ

So woe to him who is in love! Cups of wine have agreed with him,

O what a lover, to whom death seemed sweet;

For lovers are madmen, so do not blame them.

Truly, the lover is mad, so cast no blame.

لِكُلِّ ذي هِمَّةٍ في دَهرِهِ أَمَلٌ

وَكُلُّ ذي أَمَلٍ في الدَهرِ ذو أَلَمِ

Every person of ambition has hope in this world,

Every man of ambition carries hope within his age,

And everyone who has hope endures pain.

And everyone with hope in this life is a man of pain.

وَيلُ اللَيالي لَقَد قَلَّدنَني ذَرِباً

أَدنى إِلى مُهجَتي مِن مُهجَةِ الخَصِمِ

Woe to the nights! For they have burdened me with wakefulness,

Woe to the nights! They have armed me with a sharp edge,

Drawing my grief closer than the grief of my rival.

Closer to my own lifeblood than to that of my foe.

ما حَدَّثَتنِيَ نَفسي أَن أُحَطِّمَهُ

إِلّا خَشيتُ عَلى نَفسي مِنَ النَدَمِ

My soul did not tell me to break it

Never did my soul suggest that I destroy it,

Except for fear of regret on my soul.

But that I feared I would suffer the pangs of regret.

فَكُلَّما قُلتُ زُهدي طارِدٌ كَلَفي

رَجَعتُ وَالوَجدُ فيهِ طارِدٌ سَأَمي

Whenever I say my asceticism drives away my burden,

Whenever I said my abstinence would banish my obsession,

I return while the passion in it drives away my boredom.

I returned, finding passion therein banishing my weariness.

يَأبى الشَقاءُ الَّذي يَدعونَهُ أَدَباً

أَن يَضحَكَ الطِرسُ إِلّا إِن سَفَكتُ دَمي

Misery, which they call discipline, refuses

This misery they call 'literature' refuses

That poetry smile except when I shed my blood.

To let the parchment smile unless I spill my own blood.

لَقَد صَحِبتُ شَبابي وَاليَراعَ مَعاً

أَودى شَبابي فَهَل أُبقي عَلى قَلَمي

I accompanied my youth while aware

I kept company with my youth and the reed pen together;

My youth has passed, so should I leave my pen?

My youth has perished, so shall I spare my pen?

كَأَنَّما الشَعَراتُ البيضُ طالِعَةً

في مِفرَقي أَنجُمٌ أَشرَقنَ في الظُلَمِ

It is as though the grey hairs appearing

It is as if the white hairs rising in my locks

On my temples are stars shining in the darkness.

Were stars shining forth in the darkness.

تَضاحَكَ الشَيبُ في رَأسي فَعَرَّضَ بي

ذو الشَيبِ عِندَ الغَواني مَوضِعُ التُهَمِ

Old age laughs at the hair on my head and accuses me -

Gray hair laughed upon my head, mocking me;

The grey-haired are suspect to the tender ones.

To beautiful women, a gray-haired man is suspect.

فَكُلُّ بَيضاءَ عِندَ الغيدِ فاحِمَةً

وَكُلُّ بَيضاءَ عِندي ثَغرُ مُبتَسِمِ

But to me every grey hair is a smiling mouth,

Every white strand is purely black to the maidens' eyes,

And every grey hair is condemned as suspicious.

While to me, every whiteness is a smiling mouth.

قُل لِلَّتي ضَحِكَت مِن لِمَّتي عَجَباً

هَل كانَ ثَمَّ شَبابٌ غَيرَ مُنصَرِمِ

Say to her who laughed in wonder at my infatuation:

Tell her who laughed in wonder at my graying hair:

Has there ever been a youth that did not fade?

Has there ever been a youth that did not pass away?

أَصبَحتُ أَنحَلَ مِن طَيفٍ وَأَحيَرَ مِن

ضَيفٍ وَأَسهَرَ مِن راعٍ عَلى غَنَمِ

I have become more confused than a specter, more perplexed

I have become thinner than a phantom, more bewildered than a guest,

Than a guest, and more wakeful than a shepherd guarding his flock,

And more wakeful than a shepherd watching his flock.

وَلَيلَةٍ بِتُّ أَجني مِن كَواكِبَها

عِقداً كَأَنّي أَنالُ الشُهبَ مِن أَمَمِ

And [I spend] nights depicting constellations,

Many a night I spent gathering a necklace from its stars,

As if I could grasp shooting stars in my fists.

As if I could reach the meteors from close at hand.

لا ذاقَ جَفني الكَرى حَتّى تَنالَ يَدي

ما لا يَفوزُ بِهِ غَيري مِنَ الحُلُمِ

My eyelids do not taste sleep until my hands obtain

My eyelids tasted no slumber until my hand could grasp

What none can win but me, through my dreams.

That dream which no other but I could win.

لَيسَ الوُقوفُ عَلى الأَطلالِ مِن خُلُقي

وَلا البُكاءُ عَلى ما فاتَ مِن شِيَمي

It is not in my nature to dwell on ruins

Standing by the ruins is not my nature,

Or mourn what has passed - that is not my way.

Nor is weeping over the past part of my character.

لَكِنَّ مِصراً وَما نَفسي بِناسِيَةٍ

مَليكَةَ الشَرقِ ذاتَ النيلِ وَالهَرَمِ

But I am stubborn, though my soul forgets not

But Egypt—and my soul never forgets her—

The queen of the East, with the Nile and pyramids.

Is the Queen of the East, of the Nile and the Pyramids.

صَرَفتُ شَطرَ الصِبا فيها فَما خَشِيَت

نَفسي العِثارَ وَلا نَفسي مِنَ الوَصَمِ

I spent half my youth with her and feared not

I spent the prime of my youth there, and my soul

Disgrace for my soul, nor blemish upon it.

Neither feared stumbling nor dreaded any disgrace.

في فِتيَةٍ كَالنُجومِ الزُهرِ أَوجُهُهُم

ما فيهِمُ غَيرَ مَطبوعٍ عَلى الكَرَمِ

Among young men like brilliant stars, their faces

Among youths whose faces shone like bright stars;

Glowing - none but the generous are their ilk.

Not one among them was not born to generosity.

لا يَقبِضونَ مَعَ اللَأواءِ أَيدِيَهُم

وَقَلَّما جادَ ذو وَفرٍ مَعَ الأَزَمِ

In hardship, they do not close their hands,

They do not clench their hands in times of hardship,

Rarely does one with plenty give in times of crisis.

Though rare is the wealthy man who gives during a crisis.

حَسبي مِنَ الوَجدِ هَمٌّ ما يُخامِرُني

إِلّا وَأَشرَقَني بِالبارِدخِ الشَبِمِ

It satisfies me, the passion that stirs within me,

It suffices my passion to have a sorrow that, whenever it visits,

Illuminating me with the cold spring rains.

Chokes me as I try to swallow cool water.

في ذِمَّةِ الغَربِ مُشتاقٌ يُنازِعُهُ

شَوقٌ إِلى مَهبِطِ الآياتِ وَالحِكَمِ

Yearning westward, competed with yearning

Under the custody of the West lies a yearning soul, torn

For the place where verses and wisdom descend.

By longing for the land where verses and wisdom descended.

ما تَغرُبُ الشَمسُ إِلّا أَدمُعي شَفَقٌ

تَنسى العُيونُ لَدَيهِ حُمرَةَ العَنَمِ

The sun never sets except my tears become its dusk -

The sun never sets but that my tears form a twilight,

Eyes forget the redness of sleep before it.

Beside whose red glow eyes forget the crimson anemone.

وَما سَرَت نَسَماتٌ نَحوَها سَحَراً

إِلّا وَدِدتُ لَو أَنّي كُنتُ في النَسَمِ

No morning breeze blows toward it

No breeze ever drifted towards her at dawn,

Except I wish I were the breeze.

But that I wished I were carried within that breeze.

ما حالُ تِلكَ المَغاني بَعدَ عاشِقِها

فَإِنَّني بَعدَها لِلهَمِّ وَالسَقَمِ

What is the state of those melodies after their lover?

How fare those beloved dwellings now that their lover is gone?

For after them I am sick with anxiety and frailty.

For since leaving them, I am prey to sorrow and sickness.

جادَ الكِنانَةَ عَنّي وابِلٌ غَدِقٌ

وَإِن يَكُ النَيلُ يُغنيها عَنِ الدِيَمِ

The clouds rained heavily upon me while the Nile

May a copious rain water the land of Kinanah on my behalf,

Suffices my people without bloodshed.

Even though the Nile suffices her need for showers.

الشَرقُ تاجٌ وَمِصرٌ مِنهُ دَرَّتُهُ

وَالشَرقُ جَيشٌ وَمِصرٌ حامِلُ العَلَمِ

The East is a crown and Egypt is its jewel,

The East is a crown, and Egypt is its centerpiece jewel;

The East an army and Egypt bearing the flag.

The East is an army, and Egypt bears its standard.

هَيهاتَ تَطرُفُ فيها عَينُ زائِرِها

بِغَيرِ ذي أَدَبِ أَو غَيرِ ذي شَمَمِ

Alas! The eye of its visitor is not sated

It is impossible for a visitor's eye to gaze upon her

Except by one of etiquette or worthy pedigree.

Without beholding culture or witnessing nobility.

أَحنى عَلى الحُرِّ مِن أَمٍّ عَلى وَلَدٍ

فَالحُرُّ في مِصرَ كَالوَرقاءِ في الحَرَمِ

It bows over the freeman like a mother over her child -

She is more tender to the free man than a mother to her child;

So the freeman in Egypt is like the holy in Mecca.

In Egypt, the free soul is safe as a dove in the sanctuary.

ما زِلتُ وَالدَهرُ تَنبو عَن يَدي يَدُهُ

حَتّى نَبَت ضِلَّةً عَن أَرضِها قَدَمي

I continued while time stretched its hand away from me

I struggled on, while Fate's hand spurned my own,

Until I stepped away, lost from its soil.

Until, in error, my foot was driven from her soil.

أَصبَحتُ في مَعشَرٍ تَقظى العُيونُ بِهِم

شَرٍّ مِنَ الداءِ في الأَحشاءِ وَالتُخَمِ

I wake to find myself among a people whose eyes

I have ended up among a people whose sight pains the eyes,

Are kept awake by evil, worse than disease in the bowels.

Worse than an internal disease or the pangs of gluttony.

وَما عَزَّ قَدرُ الأَديبِ الحُرِّ بَينَهُمُ

إِلّا كَما عَزَّ قَدرُ الحَيِّ في الرِمَمِ

The worth of the noble, educated poet is not great among them -

The worth of a free writer is honored among them

Rather, like the worth of the lively among the rubble.

Only as much as the living are honored among rotting bones.

مِن كُلِّ فَظٍّيُريكَ القِردَ مُحتَشِماً

وَيَضحَكُ القِردُ مِنهُ غَيرَ مُحتَشِمِ

I showed the ape to be more modest than every boor,

Boorish louts who make a monkey seem dignified,

Yet the ape laughs at him, no humility in its gaze.

While the monkey laughs at them without restraint.

إِذا بَصُرتَ بِهِ لا فاتَهُ كَدَرٌ

رَأَيتَ أَسمَجَ خَلقِ اللَهِ كُلِّهِمِ

When you look at it, no flaw escapes you -

If you look upon one of them—may distress never leave him!—

You see the ugliest of God's creations altogether.

You behold the ugliest of all God's creation.

مِنَ الأَعارِبِ لَكِن حينَ أُنشِدُهُ

جَواهِرَ الشِعرِ أَلقاهُ مِنَ العَجَمِ

Though one of the bedouins - but when I recite to him

He may be of Arab stock, yet when I recite to him

The gems of poetry, he tosses them like some foreign gibberish.

The jewels of poetry, I find him utterly foreign to the tongue.

ما إِن تُحَرِّكُهُ هَمّاً وَلا طَرَباً

كَأَنَّما أَنا أَتلوها عَلى صَنَمِ

It stirs him no fervor or joy,

Not a stir of emotion, neither sorrow nor delight;

As though I recite them to an idol.

It is as though I were reciting verses to a statue of stone.

لا عَيبَ في مَنطِقي لَكِن بِهِ صَمَمٌ

إِنَّ الصَوادِحَ خُرسٌ عِندَ ذي الصَمَمِ

No fault in my words, but deafness in him -

The fault lies not in my speech, but in his deafness;

Eloquence is mute to one who is deaf.

Even singing birds seem mute to the deaf man's ear.

حَجَبتُ عَن كُلِّ مَعدومِ النُهى دُرَري

إِنّي أَضِنُّ عَلى الأَنعامِ بِالنِعَمِ

I have withheld my gems from those unworthy of them,

I have hidden my pearls from all those lacking wit;

For I am stingy in blessing the ungrateful.

For I am loath to cast blessings before cattle.

قَومٌ أَرى الجَهلَ فيهِم لا يَزالُ فَتىً

في عُنفُوانِ الصِبا وَالعِلمُ كَالهَرَمِ

I see ignorance in them remain ever youthful

A people in whom I see Ignorance still young and vigorous,

While knowledge seems as aged as decrepitude.

While Knowledge among them is like a decrepit old man.