ما وَعَظَ الإِنسانَ مِثلُ الحِمام
فَليَتَّعِظ بِالصَمتِ أَهلُ الكَلام
Nothing admonishes man quite like death,
So let the masters of speech take heed from silence.
أَفصَحُ مِن كُلِّ فَصيحٍ بِنا
هَذا الَّذي أَعياهُ رَدُّ السَلام
He is more eloquent than the most articulate among us,
He who is now too weary to return a greeting.
إِنّي أَراهُ وَهوَ في صَمتِهِ
أَروَعَ مِن جَيشٍ كَبيرٍ لَهام
I see him, there in his silence,
More awe-inspiring than a vast, mighty army.
نامَت جُفونٌ سَهِرَت لِلعُلى
مِن قَبلِ أَن يَنجابَ جُنحُ الظَلام
Eyelids have slept that once kept vigil for glory,
Before the wing of darkness had cleared away.
وَسَكَنَ الوَثّابُ في صَدرِهِ
مِن قَبلِ أَن يُدرِكَ كُلَّ المَرام
And the leaping heart within his chest grew still,
Before it could attain every desire.
يا لَهفَةَ القَومِ عَلى كَوكَبٍ
لاحَ قَليلاً وَاِختَفى في الغَمام
Oh, the sorrow of the people for a star,
That shone but a moment, then vanished into the clouds.
وَلَهفَةَ الدينِ عَلى سَيِّدٍ
كا يُرَجّى في الخُطوبِ الجِسام
And the sorrow of the Faith for a master,
Who was relied upon in grave calamities.
وَصاحِبٍ قَد كانَ في صَحبِهِ
كَالرَوضِ فيهِ أَرَجٌ وَاِبتِسام
And a friend whose companionship was,
Like a garden filled with fragrance and smiles.
ما غابَ عَنّا وَكَأَنّي بِهِ
يَفصِلُهُ عَن صَحبِهِ أَلفُ عام
He has not left us, yet it seems to me,
That a thousand years sever him from his friends.
مَنِ الَّذي يُطفِئُ مِن بُعدِهِ
في المُهَجِ الحَرّى ذَكِيَّ الضِرام
Who is there now to extinguish, in his absence,
The blazing fire within burning hearts?
مَنِ الَّذي يَمسَحُ دَمعَ الأَسى
وَماسِحُ الأَدمُعِ تَحتَ الرُغام
Who is the one to wipe away the tears of sorrow,
When the consoler of tears lies beneath the dust?
يا نائِماً مُستَغرِقاً في الكَرى
خَطبُكَ قَد أَقلَقَ حَتّى النِيام
O sleeper, immersed deep in slumber,
Your tragedy has disturbed even those who sleep.
خَبِّر فَإِنَّ القَومَ في حَيرَةٍ
هَلِ الرَدى فاتِحَةٌ أَم خِتام
Speak, for the people are in bewilderment:
Is death a beginning or an end?
وَهَل صَحيحٌ أَنَّ كُلَّ المُنى
يَطحَنُها صِرفُ الرَدى كَالعِظام
And is it true that all hopes,
Are ground to dust by Death just like bones?
وَهَل حَقيقٌ أَنَّ أَهلَ العُلى
وَالفَضلِ بَعدَ المَوتِ مِثلُ الطَغام
And is it true that men of distinction,
And virtue are leveled with the rabble after death?
أَم بَعدَ هَذا يَقظَةٌ حُلوَةٌ
يَنسى بِها المَرءُ الشَقا وَالسُقام
Or is there, after this, a sweet awakening,
In which one forgets all misery and sickness?
وَيُصبِحُ النابِهُ في مَأمَنٍ
مِن عَنَتِ المالِ وَعَيثِ الحُسام
And the noble soul finds safety,
From the burden of wealth and the ravage of the sword?
وَتَستَوي الحالاتُ في حالَةٍ
لا حَيفَ فيها لا أَذى لا اِنتِقام
And do all states settle into one state,
Where there is no injustice, no harm, no revenge?
خَبِّر وَحَدِّث كُلُّنا حائِرٌ
ذو الجَهلِ مِنّا وَالأَريبُ الهُمام
Speak and tell us, for we are all lost in doubt,
The ignorant among us and the wise alike.
لِأَيِّما أَمرٍ يَعيشُ الوَرى
لِأَيِّما أَمرٍ يَموتُ الأَنام
For what purpose does mankind live?
And for what purpose do mortals die?
وَأَينَ دارٌ لَيسَ فيها شَقا
إِن لَم تَكُن هاتيكَ دارَ السَلام
And where is the abode free of misery,
If that place is not the Abode of Peace?
نَم آمِناً فَالمَرءُ بَعدَ الرَدى
كَالفِكرِ لا يُزرى بِهِ لا يُضام
Sleep in safety, for man after death,
Is like a thought—immune to scorn, safe from oppression.
