جنى عليك الحسنُ يا وردتي

وطيبُ ريَّاكِ فذقْتِ العذابْ

O my rose, your beauty has done you wrong

And the goodness of your nurture made you suffer

لولاهما لم تُقطفي غَضّةً

بل لا نطوى في الروض عنك الشباب

Had it not been for them, you’d not be plucked still fresh

Else, youth would not turn from you in the garden

لو لاهما مرّ بكِ العاشقونْ

لا ينظرونْ

Had it not been for them, lovers had passed you by

Not looking,

وربما أعرض عنكِ الندى

وجازكِ الطيرُ فما غرّدا

And perhaps dew would have ignored you

And birds flown by, not singing

عُرفتِ بالفضلِ وكم فاضلٍ

جنى عليه الفضل يا وردتي

You were known for your excellence, and how excellent

Is one whom excellence has wronged, O my rose

روضتُكِ الغنّاءُ يا وردتي

قد أَنبتتْ من كل زوْجٍ بهيجْ

Your blooming garden, O my rose

Has grown from every lovely pair

تنفّسَ الصبُّح بأزهارها

عن ضاحكِ اللَّون زكيّ الأَريجْ

The dawn breaths in its flowers

Laughing, pure colored, aromatic

نَسرينُها ورندُها والأَقاحْ

كلٌّ مُباحْ

Its lilies, anemones, and poppies

Are all permitted

تَنقْلُ عنها نَسَماتُ الصَّبا

تحيةً لكلِّ قلبٍ صَبا

The morning breezes carry from it

Greetings to every youthful heart

وطوَّفَ الناسُ بأرجائها

فوقفوا عندكِ يا وردتي

And people walked about its edges

And stopped at you, O my rose

لله ما أصدقها حكمةً

فاه بها المجهولُ في عهدهِ

By God, how true is its wisdom

Through it, the ignorant found guidance in his time

تشتاق أيارَ نفوس الورى

وإنما الشوقُ إلى وردِهِ

The souls of people yearn for its days

Yet longing is but for its roses

تعزيةٌ أودعَ فيها الضَّريْر

حُكْمَ البصيرْ

It contains solace the troubled have deposited

The wisdom of the seeing for the blind

ألم يكنْ في قومِه كوكباً

لاحَ ليمحو نورُه الغيهبا

Was he not a star among his people

Shining to erase the darkness

فما لهم آلَهُم فضُلهُ

حتى لقد آذَوْه يا وردتي

Why then did they not value his superiority

That they even hurt you, O my rose

تحكُم النَّاس بمستضعفٍ

سرُّ من الأَسرار لا يُدركُ

People judge the weak harshly

A secret from the secrets not realized

يا وردتي وربَّ سَهْلٍ بدا

طريقُه يُهلِك مَنْ يسلُكُ

O my rose, many a plain seems easy

Yet its way destroys those who take it

هلْ حسبوا غضَك لمّا دنا

سهلَ الجنى

Did they think you weak when you drew near

Easy to pick

كلاَّ بل النَّفسُ التي تَضْعُفُ

تصطنعُ البأْسَ فلا تعرفُ

No! But the soul that weakens

Feigns ferocity though it knows not

والسرُّ في بطشِ الورى خوفُهمْ

مِنْ هذِهِ الأَشواكِ يا وردتي

And the secret in the people's tyranny is their fear

Of these thorns, O my rose