وَرَدَ الكِنانَةَ عَبقَرِيُّ زَمانِهِ

فَتَنَظَّري يا مِصرُ سِحرَ بَيانِهِ

The genius of his time alighted, Kindanah,

So gaze, Egypt, at the magic of his eloquence,

وَأَتى الحُسانُ فَهَنِّئوا مُلكَ النُهى

بِقِيامِ دَولَتِهِ وَعَودِ حُسانِهِ

And al-Husn came, so congratulate the king of virtues,

On the rise of his state and the return of his beauty,

النيلُ قَد أَلقى إِلَيهِ بِسَمعِهِ

وَالماءُ أَمسَكَ فيهِ عَن جَرَيانِهِ

The Nile turned its hearing to him,

And the water held back its flow for him,

وَالزَهرُ مُصغٍ وَالخَمائِلُ خُشَّعٌ

وَالطَيرُ مُستَمِعٌ عَلى أَفنانِهِ

The flowers listen rapt and the gazelles stand in awe,

And the birds, perched on their twigs, pay heed,

وَالقُطرُ في شَوقٍ لِأَندَلُسِيَّةٍ

شَوقِيَّةٍ تَشفيهِ مِن أَشجانِهِ

The rain clouds yearn for an Andalusian melody,

A melody that quenches its burning thirst,

يُصغي لِأَحمَدَ إِن شَدا مُتَرَنِّماً

إِصغاءَ أُمَّةِ أَحمَدٍ لِأَذانِهِ

If Ahmed sings, listen like the community of Ahmed,

Turns its ears to his call to prayer,

فَاِصدَح وَغَنِّ النيلَ وَاِهزُز عِطفَهُ

يَكفيهِ ما عاناهُ مِن أَحزانِهِ

So speak up and sing to the Nile and stir its compassion,

It has suffered enough melancholy,

وَاِذكُر لَنا الحَمراءَ كَيفَ رَأَيتَها

وَالقَصرَ ماذا كانَ مِن بُنيانِهِ

And relate to us of al-Hamra what you saw,

And of the palace what was its structure,

ماذا تَحَطَّمَ مِن ذُراهُ وَما الَّذي

أَبقَت صُروفُ الدَهرِ مِن أَركانِهِ

What of its dwellings is now in ruins and what

Has time's vicissitudes left of its pillars?

واهاً عَلَيهِ وَأَهلِهِ وَبُناتِهِ

أَيّامَ كانَ النَجمُ مِن سُكّانِهِ

Alas for it and its people and daughters,

When it was inhabited by the celestial bodies,

إِذ مُلكُ أَندَلُسٍ عَريضٌ جاهُهُ

وَشَبابُهُ المَبكِيُّ في رَيعانِهِ

When the kingdom of Andalus had widespread glory,

And its flourishing youth was at its prime,

الفَتحُ وَالعُمرانُ آيَةُ عَهدِهِ

وَكَتائِبُ الأَقدارِ مِن أَعوانِهِ

Conquest and prosperity were signs of its era,

And the regiments of fate were its assistants,

لَبِسَت بِهِ الدُنيا لِباسَ حَضارَةٍ

قَد كانَ يَخلَعُهُ عَلى جيرانِهِ

The world wore by it the garb of civilization,

Which it would cast off onto its neighbors,

زالَت بَشاشَتُهُ وَزالَ وَأَقفَرَت

مِن أُنسِهِ الدُنيا وَمِن إِنسانِهِ

Its joy faded and its intimacy was lost,

And the world was emptied of its human presence,

وَطَوى الثَرى سِرَّ الزَوالِ فَيا تُرى

هَل ضاقَ صَدرُ الأَرضِ عَن كِتمانِهِ

And the earth folded the secret of its decay,

Did the earth's chest become too narrow to conceal it?

فَتَكَلَّمَت تِلكَ الطُلولُ وَأَفصَحَت

لَمّا وَقَفتَ مُسائِلاً عَن شانِهِ

Those hills spoke and became eloquent,

When you stood questioning their condition,

وَلَعَلَّ نَكبَتَهُ هُناكَ تَفَرُّقٌ

وَتَعَدُّدٌ قَد كانَ في تيجانِهِ

And perhaps dispersal and disunity over there,

Were what had been among its crowns,

عِبَرٌ رَأَيناها عَلى أَيّامِنا

قَد هَوَّنَت ما نابَهُ في آنِهِ

Lessons we saw in our own days,

Which made light of what had afflicted it back then,

وَحَوادِثٌ في الكَونِ إِثرَ حَوادِثٍ

جاءَت مُشَمَّرَةً لِهَدِّ كِيانِهِ

And successive events in existence,

Came resolved to destroy its edifice,

سُبحانَ جَبّارِ السَمَواتِ العُلا

وَمُقَلِّبِ الأَكوانِ في أَكوانِهِ

Glory to the Almighty of the Highest Heaven,

Turner of the cycles of being in their cycles,

أَهلاً بِشَمسِ المَشرِقَينِ وَمَرحَباً

بِالأَبلَجِ المَرجُوِّ مِن إِخوانِهِ

Hello O sun of the two dawning places, and welcome,

O radiant light hoped for from his brothers,

أَشكو إِلَيكَ مِنَ الزَمانِ وَزُمرَةٍ

جَرَحَت فُؤادَ الشِعرِ في أَعيانِهِ

I complain to you of time and a horde,

That has wounded the heart of poetry in its notables,

كَم خارِجٍ عَن أُفقِهِ حَصَبَ الوَرى

بِقَريضِهِ وَالعُجبُ مِلءُ جَنانِهِ

How many strays beyond his bounds the people censure,

With his poetry, and wonder fills his mind,

يَختالُ بَينَ الناسِ مُتَّئِدَ الخُطا

ريحُ الغُرورِ تَهُبُّ مِن أَردانِهِ

He struts among the people, trailing his train,

The winds of arrogance blow from his cloak,

كَم صَكَّ مَسمَعَنا بِجَندَلِ لَفظِهِ

وَأَطالَ مِحنَتَنا بِطولِ لِسانِهِ

How he has deafened our hearing with his insignificant verse,

And prolonged our torment with his lengthy tongue,

مازالَ يُعلِنُ بَينَنا عَن نَفسِهِ

حَتّى اِستَغاثَ الصُمُّ مِن إِعلانِهِ

He continues to proclaim himself among us,

Till the deaf have implored an end to his proclamation,

نَصَحَ الهُداةُ لَهُم فَزادَ غُرورُهُم

وَاِشتَدَّ ذاكَ السَيلُ في طُغيانِهِ

The rightly-guided counselled them in vain, so their arrogance intensified,

And the torrent of their tyranny swelled,

أَوَ لَم تَرَ الفُرقانَ وَهوَ مُفَصَّلٌ

لَم يَلفِتِ البوذِيَّ عَن أَوثانِهِ

Have you not seen the Criterion, clear in its separation,

To which the Buddhist pays no heed in his idolatry?

قُل لِلَّذي قَد قامَ يَشأو أَحمَداً

خَلِّ القَريضَ فَلَستَ مِن فُرسانِهِ

Tell the one who presumptuously maligns Ahmed:

"Leave poetry, for you are no knight of his."

الشِعرُ في أَوزانِهِ لَو قِستَهُ

لَظَلَمتَهُ بِالدُرِّ في ميزانِهِ

Poetry by its metrics, were it to be weighed,

Would eclipse it with pearls on the scale,

هَذا اِمرُؤٌ قَد جاءَ قَبلَ أَوانِهِ

اِن لَم يَكُن قَد جاءَ بَعدَ أَوانِهِ

This is a man who came before his time,

If he had not come after his time,

إِن قالَ شِعراً أَو تَسَنَّمَ مِنبَراً

فَتَعَوُّذاً بِاللَهِ مِن شَيطانِهِ

If he says poetry or mounts the pulpit,

Then seek refuge in God from his devil,

تَخِذَ الخَيالَ لَهُ بُراقاً فَاِعتَلى

فَوقَ السُها يَستَنُّ في طَيَرانِهِ

He makes fantasy his steed and gallops,

High above the clouds, scanning the sky arrogantly,

ما كانَ يَأمَنُ عَثرَةً لَو لَم يَكُن

روحُ الحَقيقَةِ مُمسِكاً بِعِنانِهِ

He would not be safe from a stumble had not

The spirit of truth held his reins,

فَأَتى بِما لَم يَأتِهِ مُتَقَدِّمٌ

أَو تَطمَعُ الأَذهانُ في إِتيانِهِ

So he came with what no predecessor had come with,

Nor could minds aspire to bring the like,

هَل لِلخَيالِ وَلِلحَقيقَةِ مَنهَلٌ

لَم يَبغِهِ الرُوّادُ في ديوانِهِ

Does fantasy and reality have a spring,

Unsought by the visitors in his diwan?

إِنّا لَنَلهو إِذ نَجِدُّ وَإِنَّهُ

لَيَجِدُّ إِذ يَلهو بِنَظمِ جُمانِهِ

We are entertained when we are serious, and he,

Is serious when he playfully composes poetry,

أَقلامُهُ لَو شاءَ شَكَّ قَصيرُها

هامَ الثُرَيّا وَالسُها بِسِنانِهِ

His pens, if he wished, their nibs would pierce,

The Pleiades and Suhail with their points,

يُملي عَلَيها عَقلُهُ وَجَنانُهُ

ما لَيسَ يُنكِرُهُ هَوى وِجدانِهِ

His mind and heart dictate to them,

What no passion or deep affection would deny,

بَسلٌ عَلى شُعَرائِنا أَن يَنطِقوا

قَبلَ المُثولِ لَدَيهِ وَاِستِئذانِهِ

It behooves our poets to remain silent,

Before appearing before him and seeking permission,

عافَ القَديمَ وَقَد كَسَتهُ يَدُ البِلى

خَلَقَ الأَديمِ فَهانَ في خُلقانِهِ

He brought new life to the ancient worn by decrepitude,

And created the eternal so the ephemeral seemed lowly by it,

وَأَبى الجَديدَ وَقَد تَأَنَّقَ أَهلُهُ

في الرَقشِ حَتّى غَرَّ في أَلوانِهِ

And he refused the new though its proponents indulged,

In ornateness until they were deluded by its hues,

فَجَديدُهُ بَعَثَ القَديمَ مِنَ البِلى

وَأَعادَ سُؤدُدَهُ إِلى إِبّانِهِ

So his novelty revived the ancient from decay,

And restored its pillars to their prime,

وَرَمى جَديدَهُمُ فَخَرَّ بِناؤُهُ

بِرُواءِ زُخرُفِهِ وَبَرقِ دِهانِهِ

And he threw their novelty so its edifice collapsed,

By the traffickers' tricks and the paintings' flash,

شُعَراءُ نَفحِ الطيبِ أَنشَرَ ذِكرُهُم

في أَرضِ أَندَلُسٍ أَديبُ زَمانِهِ

The fragrant-breathed poets, mention of them spread,

In the land of Andalus by its most eloquent of eras,

وَدَّ اِبنُ هانِئَ وَاِبنُ عَمّارٍ بِها

لَو يَظفَرانِ مَعاً بِلَثمِ بَنانِهِ

Ibn Hani and Ibn Ammar strove for it,

Could they together attain the kiss of his lips,

وَلَوِ اِستَطاعا فَوقَ ذاكَ لَأَقبَلا

رَغمَ البِلى وَالقَبرِ يَستَبِقانِهِ

And if they could attain more than that they would hasten,

Defying decrepitude and the grave to reach him,

يا كَرمَةَ المَطَرِيَّةِ اِبتَهِجي بِهِ

وَاِستَقبِلي الظَمآنَ مِن أَخدانِهِ

O vine of Matrud, rejoice in him,

And quench the thirsty from his streams,

مُدّي الظِلالَ عَلى الوُفودِ وَجَدِّدي

عَهداً طَواهُ الدَهرُ في بُستانِهِ

Spread your shade over the pilgrims and renew,

A time hidden by fate in your orchard,

كَم مَجلِسٍ لِلَّهوِ فيهِ شَهِدتُهُ

فَسَكِرتُ مِن ديوانِهِ وَدِنانِهِ

How many a gathering of joy in it I attended,

And from his ode and rhymes grew drunk,

غَنّى مُغَنّيهِ فَهاجَ غِناؤُهُ

شَجوَ الحَمامِ عَلى ذُوائِبِ بانِهِ

A singer sang and his singing was impassioned,

The lament of doves for their departed beloved,

فَتَرَنَّحَت أَشجارُهُ وَتَمايَلَت

أَعوادُها طَرَباً عَلى عيدانِهِ

So its trees swayed gently and its boughs,

Swayed in rapture upon their trunks,

فَكَأَنَّ مَجلِسَنا هُناكَ قَصيدَةٌ

مِن نَظمِهِ طَلَعَت عَلى عُبدانِهِ

And so our gathering there was like a poem,

Of his composition rising over his servants,

فَالحَمدُ لِلَّهِ الَّذي قَد رَدَّهُ

مِن بَعدِ غُربَتِهِ إِلى أَوطانِهِ

So praise be to Allah who returned him,

After his exile to his homelands,

فَتَنَظَّروا آياتِهِ وَتَسَمَّعوا

قَد قامَ بُلبُلُكُم عَلى أَغصانِهِ

So await his signs and hearken,

For your nightingale is calling from his branches