إِنّي مَرَرتُ عَلى الرِياضِ الحالِيَه

وَسَمِعتُ أَنغامَ الطُيورِ الشادِيَه

I passed by gardens sweet and fair,

And heard the melodies of birds in song,

فَطَرِبتُ لَكِن لَم يُحِبُّ فُؤادِيَه

كَطُيورِ أَرضي أَو زُهورِ بِلادي

I was moved, yet my heart offered no love,

Like that for the birds of my land or the flowers of my country.

وَشَرِبتُ ماءَ ماءَ النيلِ شَيخِ الأَنهُرِ

فَكَأَنَّني قَد ذُقتُ ماءَ الكَوثَرِ

I drank the water of the Nile, the elder of rivers,

As though I had tasted the waters of Paradise;

نَهرٌ تَبارَكَ مِن قَديمِ الأَعصُرِ

عَذبٌ وَلَكِن لا كَماءِ بِلادي

A river blessed since ancient times,

Sweet, yet not like the water of my country.

وَقَرَأتُ أَوصافَ المُروأَةِ في السَير

فَظَنَنتُها شَيئاً تَلاشى وَاِندَثَر

I read descriptions of chivalry in tales of old,

And thought it a thing vanished and extinct,

أَو أَنَّها كَالغولِ لَيسَ لَها أَثَر

فَإِذا المُروأَةُ في رِجالِ بِلادي

Or like the mythical Ghoul, leaving no trace,

Until I found chivalry in the men of my country.

وَرَسَمتُ يَوماً صورَةً في خاطِري

لِلحُسنِ إِنَّ الحوسنَ رَبُّ الشاعِرِ

One day I sketched a picture in my mind

Of beauty—for beauty is the poet's sovereign—

وَذَهَبتُ أُنشِدُها فَأَعيا خاطِري

حَتّى نَظَرتُ إِلى بَناتِ بِلادي

I sought to recite it, but my imagination failed,

Until I gazed upon the daughters of my country.

قالوا أَلَيسَ الحُسنُ في كُلِّ الدُنى

فَعَلى ما نَمدَح سِواها مَوطِنا

They said, "Is not beauty found throughout the world?

Why then do you praise your homeland above all else?"

فَأَجَبتَهُم إِنّي أُحِبُّ الأَحسَنا

أَبَداً وَأَحسَنُ ما رَأَيتُ بِلادي

I answered them, "I simply love the fairest,

Forever—and the fairest I have seen is my country."

قالوا رَأَيناها فَلَم نَرَ طَيِّباً

وَلّى صِباها وَالجَمالُ مَعَ الصِبا

They said, "We looked, yet saw nothing delightful;

Its youth has fled, and beauty departs with youth."

فَأَجَبتُهُم لِتَكُن بِلادي سَبسَباً

قَفراً فَلَستُ أُحِبُّ غَيرَ بِلدي

I answered them, "Let my country be a barren waste,

A desolate void; I still love none but my country."

قالوا تَأَمَّل أَيَّ حالٍ حالَها

صَدَعَ القَضاءُ صُروحَها فَأَمالَها

They said, "Consider the state it has fallen into,

Fate has cracked its edifices and brought them low.

سَتَموتُ إِنَّ الدَهرَ شاءَ زَوالَها

أَتَموتُ كَلّا لَن تَموتُ بِلادي

It shall die, for Time has willed its end."

Will it die? Never! My country shall not die.

هِيَ كَالغَديرِ إِذا أَتى فَصلُ الشِتا

فَقدَ الخَريرَ وَصارَ يَحكي المَيتا

She is like the stream when winter arrives:

It loses its murmur and seems to resemble the dead,

أَو كَالأَزاهِرِ حَبَستَهُ لَكِن مَتى

يَعُدِ الرَبيعُ إِلى الإِنشادِ

Or like flowers held dormant, yet as soon as

Spring returns, it rises again to song.

الكَوكَبُ الوَضّاحُ يَبقى كَوكَباً

وَلَئِن تَسَتَّرَ بِالدُجى وَتَنَقَّبا

The brilliant star remains a star,

Even if veiled in darkness and hidden from sight.

لَيسَ الضَبابُ بِسالِبٍ حَسَنَ الرُبى

وَالبُؤسُ لا يَمحو جَمالَ بِلادي

The mist does not rob the hills of their beauty,

Nor does misery erase the beauty of my country.

لا عَزَّ إِلّا بِالشَبابِ الراقي

الناهِضِ العَزَماتِ وَالأَخلاقِ

There is no glory save in noble youth,

Rising with determination and high morals,

الثائِرِ المُتَفَجِّرِ الدَفّاقِ

لَولاهُ لَم تَشمَخ جِبالُ بِلادي

Revolutionary, explosive, surging forth—

Were it not for them, the mountains of my country would not stand tall.