هَل مِن مُعينٍ عَلى أَحداثِ أَزماني

أَسَأتَ مُعتَمِداً لي بَعدَ إِحسانِ

Is there any helper against the events of my times?

You have wronged me, though I trusted in you after your kindness.

كَلّا أَلَيسَت تَقيني لِلزَمانِ يَدٌ

لِقاسِمٍ ذاتُ تَمكينٍ وَسُلطانِ

Nay! Do not my hands protect me from time?

For Qasim, endowed with support and authority,

الزاجِرِ الدَهرِ عَنّي إِذ شَحا فَمَهُ

وَمَدَّ كَفَّيهِ في ظُلمٍ وَعُدوانِ

Who drove away the pain of time from me when it was stingy,

And stretched out his hands against injustice and aggression.

حَمَّلتَ نَفسَكَ لا زالَت مُعَمَّرَةً

رَدَّ المَكارِهِ عَن نَفسي وَجُثماني

You took it upon yourself though your life remains long,

To deflect harm from myself and my body.

كَذاكَ كانَ عُبَيدُ اللَهِ واحَزَني

عَلَيهِ ما عِشتُ في سِرّي وَإِعلاني

Thus was Ubayd Allah, which saddened me,

For as long as I live, in my innermost thoughts and openly.

أَقولُ لَمّا عَلا صَوتُ النَعِيِّ بِهِ

وَما مَلَكتُ عَلَيهِ دَمعَ أَجفاني

I say, when the voice of lament for him was raised,

And my eyelids could not hold back their tears for him:

يا ناعِيَيهِ بِحَقٍّ ماتَ وَيحَكُما

أَتَدرِيانِ لَنا ماذا تَقولانِ

O you who lament him in truth, he died, but do you know,

What you are saying to us?

لَئِن فُجِعنا بِما لا خَلقَ يَعدِلُهُ

وَما لَهُ في الوَرى إِلّا اِبنَهُ ثانِ

If we have been afflicted with one whose equal no creature can create,

And who in the land has no one but his son second to him,

تَبَّت يَدٌ قَبَرَتهُ أَيُّ بَحرِ نَدىً

طَمى وَهَضبَةِ عِزٍّ ذاتِ أَركانِ

May the hand that buried him be cursed! Which sea of generosity,

And lofty, pillared glory, has it hidden?

كانَ المُصيبَ بِسَهمِ الرَأيِ قَبضَتَهُ

وَالقائِلَ الحَقِّ مَوزوناً بِميزانِ

He was precise in judgment, his hand the scale,

And speaking the truth, measured with the scale.

كَم لَيلَةٍ قَد نَفى عَنّي الرُقادَ بِها

ما يَعلَمُ اللَهُ مِن هَمٍّ وَأَحزانِ

How many nights did wakefulness drive away sleep,

With concerns and sorrows only God knows!

كَأَنَّ حاطِبَةً كانَت تُحَطِّبُ في

قَلبي قَتاداً وَتَكويهِ بِنيرانِ

It was as if Hatibah was gathering firewood in

My heart, and kindling it with flames.

إِن نَترُكِ الشِركَ لا يَترُكهُ مِن يَدِهِ

لا بُدَّ لِلحُلوِ في الإيمانِ مِن جانِ

If we leave polytheism, he will not leave it from his hand,

The sweetness of faith necessarily has a side that is bitter.