شَوْقٌ يَرُوحُ مَعَ الزَّمَانِ وَيَغْتَدِي

وَالشَّوْقُ، إِنْ جَدَّدْتَهُ يَتَجَدَّدِ

A yearning that departs with time and returns,

For yearning, if you renew it, is ever renewed.

دَعْ عَنْكَ نُصْحِي بِالتَّبَلُّدِ سَاعَةً

يَا صَاحِ، قَدْ ذَهَبَ الْأَسَى بِتَبَلُّدِي

Spare me your counsel to be unfeeling for an hour,

O friend, sorrow has already stripped away my numbness.

مَا زَادَ فِي أَسَفِ الْحَزِينِ وَشَجْوِهِ

شَيْءٌ كَقَولِكَ لِلْحَزِينِ تَجَلَّدِ

Nothing increases the regret of the grieving and his distress

Like your saying to the mourner, "Be strong."

مَا زِلْتُ أَعْصِيهِ إِلَى أَنْ هَاجَنِي

ذِكْرُ الْحِمَى فَعَصَيْتُ كُلَّ مُفَنِّدِ

I continued to disobey it until I was stirred

By the memory of the sanctuary, then I disobeyed every scolder.

وَأَطَارَ عَنْ جَفْنِي الْكَرَى وَأَطَارَنِي

عَنْ مَرْقَدِي مَشْيُ الْهُمُومِ بِمَرْقَدِي

It drove slumber from my eyelids and drove me

From my couch—the pacing of worries within my bed.

فِي جُنْحِ لَيْلٍ مِثْلِ حَظِّي حَالِكٍ

كَالْبَحْرِ سَاجٍ، مُقْفِرٍ كَالْفَدْفَدِ

In the wing of a night as pitch-black as my fortune,

Still as the sea, desolate as the wasteland,

أَقْبَلْتُ أَنْظُرُ فِي النُّجُومِ مُصَعِّدًا

عَيْنَيَّ بَيْنَ مُصَوِّبٍ وَمُصَعِّدِ

I began gazing at the stars, lifting

My eyes between casting them down and raising them up,

أَوْ وَاجِفٍ أَوْ رَاجِفٍ مُتَرَجْرِجٍ

أَوْ نَافِرٍ أَوْ حَائِرٍ مُتَرَدِّدِ

Either palpitating, trembling, and quivering,

Or fleeing, bewildered, and hesitating.

يَمْشِينَ فِي هَذَا الْفَضَاءِ وَفَوقَهُ

وَكَأَنَّمَا يَمْشِينَ فَوْقَ الْأَكْبُدِ

They walk in this vast space and above it,

And it is as if they tread upon human hearts.

وَالْبَدْرُ مُنْبَعِثُ الشُّعَاعِ لَطِيفُهُ

صَافٍ كَذِهْنِ الشَّاعِرِ الْمُتَوَقِّدِ

The full moon emits its beams, its gentleness

Clear as the mind of an ardent poet.

مَا زَالَ يَنْفُذُ فِي الدُّجَى حَتَّى اسْتَوَى

فِيهِ، فَيَا لَكَ أَبْيَضًا فِي أَسْوَدِ

It continued piercing the darkness until it settled

Within it—O what a wonder, whiteness within blackness!

وَالشُّهْبُ تَلْمَعُ فِي الرَّفِيعِ كَأَنَّهَا

أَحْلَامُ أَرْوَاحِ الصِّغَارِ الْهُجَّدِ

And the meteors shimmer in the heights as though they were

Dreams of the souls of slumbering children.

يَنْظُرْنَ عَنْ كَثَبٍ إِلَيْهِ خِلْسَةً

نَظَرَ الْمِلَاحِ إِلَى الْغَرِيرِ الْأَمْرَدِ

They gaze at him closely, stealing glances,

Like the look of beauties at a naive, beardless youth.

فَعَجِبْتُ مِمَّنْ نَامَ مِلْءَ جُفُونِهِ

وَالْكَونُ يَشْهَدُ مِثْلَ هَذَا الْمَشْهَدِ

I marveled at the one who sleeps with heavy lids,

While the universe bears witness to such a spectacle.

وَرَأَيْتُنِي فَوْقَ الْغَمَامِ مُحَلِّقًا

فِي الْأُفْقِ مَا بَيْنَ السُّهَا وَالْفَرْقَدِ

And I saw myself soaring above the clouds,

In the horizon between Al-Suha and Al-Farqad.

فَسَمِعْتُ صَوْتًا مِنْ بَعِيدٍ قَائِلًا

يَا أَيُّهَا السَّارِي مَكَانَكَ تُحْمَدِ

Then I heard a voice calling from afar:

"O night traveler, hold your place and you shall be praised."

مَا دُمْتَ فِي الدُّنْيَا فَلَا تَزْهَدِ بِهَا

فَأَخُو الزَّهَادَةِ مَيِّتٌ لَمْ يُلْحَدِ

"As long as you are in this world, do not renounce it,

For the ascetic is a dead man who has not yet been buried."

لَا تَقْنَطَنَّ مِنَ النَّجَاحِ لِعَثْرَةٍ

مَا لَا يُنَالُ الْيَومَ يُدْرَكُ فِي غَدِ

"Do not despair of success because of a stumble;

What is not attained today may be grasped tomorrow."

كَمْ آكِلٍ ثَمَرًا سَقَاهُ غَيْرُهُ

دَمَهُ، وَكَمْ مِنْ زَارِعٍ لَمْ يَحْصُدِ

"How many eat fruit that another has watered

With his own blood, and how many sowers never reap."

لَو كَانَ يَحْصُدُ زَرْعَهُ كُلُّ امْرِئٍ

لَمْ تَخْلَقِ الدُّنْيَا وَلَمْ تَتَجَدَّدِ

"If every man were to harvest only what he sowed,

The world would not have been created, nor would it renew."

بِالذِّكْرِ يَحْيَا الْمَرْءُ بَعْدَ مَمَاتِهِ

فَانْهَضْ إِلَى الذِّكْرِ الْجَمِيلِ وَخَلِّدِ

"By remembrance a man lives on after his death,

So rise to achieve a beautiful legacy and be immortalized."

فَلَئِنْ وُلِدْتَ وَمُتَّ غَيْرَ مُخَلِّدٍ

أَثَرًا فَأَنْتَ كَأَنَّمَا لَمْ تُولَدِ

"For if you are born and die without leaving behind

A lasting trace, it is as if you were never born."

حَتَّامَ فِي لَا شَيْءَ يَقْتَتِلُ الْوَرَى

إِنَّ الْحِمَامَ عَلَى الْجَمِيعِ بِمَرْصَدِ

"How long will mankind fight over nothingness?

Verily, death lies in ambush for all."

طَاشَتْ حُلُومُ الْمَالِكِينَ، فَذَاهِلٌ

لَا يَسْتَفِيقُ وَحَائِرٌ لَا يَهْتَدِي

"The minds of possessors have gone astray: one is heedless,

Never waking, and another is lost, finding no guidance."

وَأَفَقْتُ، إِذْ قَطَعَ الْكَلَامَ مُكَلِّمِي

فَنَظَرْتُنِي فَإِذَا أَنَا لَمْ أَصْعَدِ

Then I awoke, as the speaker ceased his words,

I looked at myself—and lo, I had not ascended at all.

مَا لِلْكَوَاكِبِ لَا تَنَامُ وَلَا تَنِي

قَدْ طَالَ سُهْدُكِ يَا كَوَاكِبٌ فَارْقُدِي

What ails the stars that they neither sleep nor tire?

Your wakefulness has been long, O stars, so rest now.

كَمْ تَنْظُرِينَ إِلَى الثَّرَى مِنْ حَالِقٍ

مَا فِي الثَّرَى لِأَخِي الْأَسَى مِنْ مُسْعِدِ

How often you gaze down at the dust from on high;

There is nothing in the dust to comfort the sorrowful.

أَوَمَا تَرَيْنِي عِنْدَمَا اشْتَدَّ الدُّجَى

وَاشْتَدَّ دَائِي نَامَ عَنِّي عُوَّدِي

Do you not see me when the darkness deepens,

And my ailment worsens, while my visitors sleep and leave me be?

حَتَّى لَقَدْ كَادَ الْقَرِيضُ يَعُقُّنِي

وَيَصُونُ عَنِّي مَاءَهُ وَأَنَا الصَّدِي

Even poetry has nearly turned against me,

Withholding its water from me though I am parched.

أَمْسِي أُهَمُّ بِهِ وَيَظْلَعُ خَاطِرِي

فَكَأَنَّمَا أَنَا مَاتِحٌ مِنْ جَلْمَدِ

I spend the night seeking it, but my inspiration limps,

As though I were drawing water from a solid rock.

لَا تَسْأَلِينِي لِمْ سَهِدْتُ فَإِنَّنِي

لَوْ كَانَ فِي وُسْعِي الْكَرَى لَمْ أَسْهَدِ

Ask me not why I lie awake, for truly

If slumber were within my power, I would not be sleepless.

صَرَفَتْ يَدُ الْبَلْوَى يَدِي عَنْ أَمْرِهَا

مَا خِلْتُ أَمْرِي قَطُّ يَخْرُجُ مِنْ يَدِي

The hand of calamity has turned my hand from its purpose;

I never thought my fate would slip from my grasp.

فِي أَضْلُعِي نَارٌ أَذَابَتْ أَضْلُعِي

وَمَشَتْ إِلَى كَبِدِي وَلَمَّا تَخْمَدِ

Within my ribs is a fire that has melted my ribs,

And crept to my liver, yet it has not subsided.

أَخْشَى عَلَى الْأَحْشَاءِ مِنْ كِتْمَانِهَا

وَأَخَافُ أَنْ أَشْكُو فَيَشْمَتَ حُسَّدِي

I fear for my insides from concealing it,

Yet I fear that if I complain, my enviers will gloat.

وَمَلِيحَةٍ لَا هِنْدُ مِنْ أَسْمَائِهَا

كَلَّا، وَلَيْسَتْ كَالْحِسَانِ الْخُرَّدِ

And there is a beauty—Hind is not among her names,

Nay, nor is she like the fair, secluded maidens.

نَشَزَ الْجَوَارِي وَالْإِمَاءُ تَمَرَّدَتْ

وَوَنَتْ فَلَمْ تَنْشُزْ وَلَمْ تَتَمَرَّدِ

The bondmaids became dissonant and the slaves rebelled,

Yet she grew weary but did not dissent nor rebel.

فِي النَّفِسِ مِنْهَا مَا بِهَا مِنْ دَهْرِهَا

أَزْكَى السَّلَامِ عَلَيْكِ أَرْضَ الْمَوْعِدِ

My soul holds for her what she holds from her age;

The purest peace be upon you, O Land of Promise.

يَا لَيْتَ شِعْرِي كَمْ أَقُولُ لَهَا انْهَضِي

وَتَقُولُ أَحْدَاثُ الزَّمَانِ لَهَا اقْعُدِي

Oh, how I wish I knew! How often I tell her, "Rise,"

While the events of time tell her, "Sit."

لَيْسَ الَّذِي لَاقَتْهُ هَيْنًا إِنَّمَا

حَمْلُ الْأَذَى هَيْنٌ عَلَى الْمُتَعَوِّدِ!

What she has endured is no light matter, yet

Bearing pain is easy for one accustomed to it!