مَهبَطَ الوَحيِ مَطلَعَ الأَنبِياءِ
كَيفَ أَمسَيتِ مَهبِطَ الأَرزاءِ
O Descent-site of Revelation, O Dawning-place of Prophets, / How have you become the landing ground for calamities?
In the eyes of mortals there is an aversion toward you, / Which would not be there had you not fallen into wretchedness.
في عُيونِ الأَنامِ عَنكِ نُبوٌّ
لَم يَكُن في العُيونِ لَو لَم تُسائي
You are like the free-born noblewoman against whom Fate turned, / Until she found herself among the bondmaids.
You are like an embroidered cloak whose splendor / Has been worn away by constant folding and unfolding.
أَنتِ كَالحُرَّةِ الَّتي اِنقَلَبَ الدَهـ
ـرُ عَلَيها فَأَصبَحَت في الإِماءِ
You are like a lush, singing garden / That has been stripped bare of its green leaves.
You are like the lion whose claws Time has pared away, / And whom a long, idle stay has bowed down.
أَنتِ كَالبُردَةِ المُوَشّاةِ أَبلى الطـ
ـطَيُّ وَالنَشرُ ما بِها مِن رُواءِ
You are like the poet who has grown accustomed to solitude / Even whilst in a gathering of the rabble.
You are like a titan shuffling in shackles / Beneath the gaze of enemies.
أَنتِ مِثلُ الخَميلَةِ الغَنّاءِ
عُرِّيَت مِن أَوراقِها الخَضراءِ
If you so willed, you would be in a far better state; / Or do you lack the power to even will it?
As for me, I remain possessed of abundant hope, / Even if I see no one else who hopes.
أَنتِ كَاللَيثِ قَلَّمَ الدَهرُ ظُفرَي
هِ وَأَحنى عَلَيهِ طولُ الثَواءِ
Those who left you wept in despair of you, / And those who dwell in you wept for fear of separation.
The mourners have multiplied around you until / I imagined that I myself was the one in need of solace.
أَنتِ كَالشاعِرِ الَّذي أَلِفَ الوِح
دَةِ في مَحفَلٍ مِنَ الغَوغاءِ
They poured out their tears, but I guarded mine; / For it is only the despairing who give themselves to weeping.
If tears could avail anything, then the weeping of poets / Would have revived every obliterated ruin.
أَنتِ مِثلُ الجَبّارِ يَرسُفُ في الأَغ
لالِ في مَشهَدٍ مِنَ الأَعداءِ
You are in need of one like Moses; / You have no need for Jeremiah.
O Eye of the East, how heavy it weighs upon us / That you should be the target of blinding dust.
لَو تَشائينَ كُنتِ أَرفَهَ حالاً
أَوَ لَستِ قَديرَةً أَن تَشائي
Calamities have scattered your people across the earth, / Though they once shone like the stars of Gemini.
When a man can no longer endure the straits of life, / He rides the steed of Death for the sake of survival.
أَنا ما زِلتُ ذا رَجاءٍ كَثيرٍ
وَلَئِن كُنتُ لا أَرى ذا رَجاءِ
An exile departing his kin does not care / That his own people see him living among strangers.
O Land of our Fathers, peace be upon you, / And may God water the souls of our ancestors.
قَد بَكى التارِكوكِ مِنكِ قُنوطاً
فَبَكى الساكِنوكِ خَوفَ التَنائي
We did not leave you—when we left you—of our own free will; / Do not suspect ingratitude in your sons.
One grows weary of eternity even when life is bliss; / So who would accept an eternity spent in misery?
كَثُرَ النائِحونَ حَولَكِ حَتّى
خِلتُ أَنّي في حاجَةٍ لِلعَزاءِ
This is our land: barren wastelands trodden / By every violent, raging storm.
These are our houses, now abodes for the owl, / Though they were once the dwelling of the dove.
بَذَلوا دَمعَهُم وَصُنتُ دُموعي
إِنَّما اليائِسونَ أَهلُ البُكاءِ
The years have exchanged our flowers for thorns, / And the Sons of Eve for wild beasts.
No sooner does the hand of Morning fold away a disaster / Than the hand of Evening unfolds it for us again.
لَو تُفيدُ الدُموعُ شَيئاً لَأَحيَت
كُلِّ عافٍ مَدامِعُ الشُعَراءِ
We wander lost across the earth, as if we were / The people of Moses in the wilderness of the dark night.
Our mounts cast us about—now into the desert wastes, / And now into the treacherous seas.
أَنتِ في حاجَةٍ إِلى مِثلِ موسى
لَستِ في حاجَةٍ إِلى أَرمِياءِ
Weak and despised we are, as if we were made of darkness / While all other people are made of light.
For the strong, exile is a source of glory and pride, / But for the weak, exile is the beginning of annihilation.
مُقلَةَ الشَرقِ كَم عَزيزٌ عَلَينا
أَن تَكوني رَمِيَّةَ الأَقذاءِ
The white men faulted us for not being mute beasts, / Though slavery itself wears a white face.
Woe to my people! Fate has emboldened every nation / To covet them—even the sons of the darkest lands.
شَرَّدَت أَهلَكِ النَوائِبُ في الأَر
ضِ وَكانوا كَأَنجُمِ الجَوزاءِ
If an enemy fails to harm us directly, he accuses falsely, / Making us see friends within the ranks of our foes.
We were enraptured by pens that sang / Of equality and brotherhood between us.
وَإِذا المَرءُ ضاقَ بِالعَيشِ ذَرعاً
رَكِبَ المَوتَ في سَبيلِ البَقاءِ
We became drunk on their words, but when we sobered, / We found nothing in them but empty names.
We live in a state whose powers have vanished, / Like gold buried deep within the dust.
لا يُبالي مُغَرِّبٌ في ذَويهِ
أَن يَراهُ ذَووهُ في الغُرَباءِ
Or like a living fetus whose mother has died, / Left to wander alone within the womb.
It is a wonder how the root has become a mere branch, / And how the morning light has settled into darkness.
أَرضَ آبائِنا عَلَيكِ سَلامٌ
وَسَقى اللَهُ أَنفُسَ الآباءِ
The injustices of the Turks were not enough for us, / Before new invaders came crawling like locusts or a plague.
Expelled from their own lands, they sought / To expel us from our beautiful abodes.
ما هَجَرناكِ إِذ هَجَرناكِ طَوعاً
لا تَظُنّي العُقوقَ في الأَبناءِ
What ails us, that while calamities tear at us, / We amuse ourselves as if we lived in luxury?
Our free men were oppressed, our sanctuaries violated, / Yet we stayed silent—and silence is the mark of cowards.
يُسأَمُ الخُلدُ وَالحَياةُ نَعيمٌ
أَفَتَرضى الخُلودَ في البَأساءِ
Arise! An awakening to cast off this humiliation, / For we have slept too long in misery.
An awakening to turn the eyes of the world upon us— / For the fear of calamity is the worst calamity of all.
هَذِهِ أَرضُنا بَلاقِعُ تَمشي
فَوقَها كُلُّ عاصِفٍ هَوجاءِ
An awakening whose echo the ether carries / To all creation as the foremost news.
An awakening where souls attain their desires, / For they are yearning for the fray.
هَذِهِ دورُنا مَنازِلُ لِلبو
مِ وَكانَت مَنازِلَ الوَرقاءِ
This dominion is a body, and within it we are the heart, / And the heart is the master of all limbs.
The traitors claim that in our aspirations / We are chasing the Phoenix of impossibility.
بَدَّلَتها السُنونُ شَوكاً مِنَ الزَهـ
ـرِ وَبِالوَحشِ مِن بَني حَوّاءِ
But they shall learn that the Arabs are a people / Who heed no one but the Lord of Heaven.
On a day when the plains sprout nothing but men, / And forests of brown spear-points.
ما طَوَت كارِثاً يَدُ الصُبحِ إِلّا
نَشَرَتهُ لَنا يَدُ الإِمساءِ
A day when one walks over mountains of severed limbs, / And wades through oceans of blood.
A day when the hypocrites among us shall realize / That the ultimate losers are the people of deceit.
نَحنُ في الأَرضِ تائِهونَ كَأَنّا
قَومُ موسى في اللَيلَةِ اللَيلاءِ
تَتَرامى بِنا الرَكائِبُ في البَي
داءِ طَوراً وَتارَةً في الماءِ
ضُعَفاءٌ مُحَقَّرونَ كَأَنّا
مِن ظَلامٍ وَالناسُ مِن لَألاءِ
وَاِغتِرابُ القَوِيِّ عِزٌّ وَفَخرٌ
وَاِغتِرابُ الضَعيفِ بَدءُ الفَناءِ
عابَنا البيضُ أَنَّنا غَيرُ عُجُمٍ
وَالعِبَدّى بِالسِحنَةِ البَيضاءِ
وَيحَ قَومي قَد أَطمَعَ الدَهرُ فيهِم
كُلَّ قَومٍ حَتّى بَني السَوداءِ
فَإِذا فاتَنا عَدُوٌّ تَجَنّى
فَأَرانا الأَحبابَ في الأَعداءِ
أَطرَبَتنا الأَقلامُ لَمّا تَغَنَّت
بِالمُساواةِ بَينَنا وَالإِخاءِ
فَسَكِرنا بِها فَلَمّا صَحَونا
ما وَجَدنا مِنها سِوى أَسماءِ
نَحنُ في دَولَةٍ تَلاشَت قُواها
كَالنُضارِ المَدفونِ في الغَبراءِ
أَو كَمِثلِ الجَنينِ ماتَت بِهِ الحا
مِلُ حَيّاً يَجولُ في الأَحشاءِ
عَجَباً كَيفَ أَصبَحَ الأَصلُ فَرعاً
وَالضُحى كَيفَ حَلَّ في الظَلماءِ
ما كَفَتنا مَظالِمُ التُركِ حَتّى
زَحَفوا كَالجَرادِ أَو كَالوَباءِ
طُرِدوا مِن رُبوعِهِم فَأَرادوا
طَردَنا مِن رُبوعِنا الحَسناءِ
ما لَنا وَالخُطوبُ تَأخُذُ مِنّا
نَتَلَهّى كَأَنَّنا في رَخاءِ
ضِيمَ أَحرارُنا وَريعَ حِمانا
وَسَكَتنا وَالصَمتُ لِلجُبَناءِ
نَهضَةً تَكشِفُ المَذَلَّةَ عَنّا
فَلَقَد طالَ نَومُنا في الشَقاءِ
نَهضَةً تَلفِتُ العُيونَ إِلَينا
إِنَّ خَوفَ البَلاءِ شَرُّ بَلاءِ
نَهضَةً يَحمِلُ الأَثيرُ صَداها
لِلبَرايا في أَوَّلِ الأَنباءِ
نَهضَةً تَبلُغُ النُفوسُ مُناها
فَهيَ مُشتاقَةٌ إِلى الهَيجاءِ
إِنَّ ذا المُلكَ هَيكَلٌ نَحنُ فيهِ الـ
ـقَلبُ وَالقَلبُ سَيِّدُ الأَعضاءِ
زَعَمَ الخائِنونَ أَنّا بِما نَبغيـ
ـهِ نَبغي الوُصولَ لِلعَنقاءِ
سَوفَ يَدرونَ أَنَّما العُربُ قَومٌ
لا يُبالونَ غَيرَ رَبِّ السَماءِ
يَومَ لا تُنبِتُ السُهولُ سِوى النا
سِ وَغَيرَ الأَسِنَّةِ السَمراءِ
يَومَ تَمشي عَلى جِبالٍ مِنَ الأَش
لاءِ تَمشي في أَبحُرٍ مِن دِماءِ
يَومَ يَستَشعِرُ المُراؤونَ مِنّا
إِنَّما الخاسِرونَ أَهلُ الرِياءِ
