عَزِيزٌ غُرُوبُ البِكْرِ فِي بُكْرَةِ العُمْرِ

كَغَيْبَةِ شَمْسِ الأُفْقِ فِي طَلْعَةِ الفَجْرِ

Precious is the sunset of youth at dawn of life

Like the absence of sunrise at daybreak

فَيَا شَمْسُ سَرْعَانُ القَضَاءِ تَهَجُّماً

عَلَيْكِ وَلَمْ يُمَهِلكِ فِي السَّبْعِ وَالعَشْرِ

So O sun of beauty, death hastily came

Not sparing you beyond your seventeenth year

خَطِيبَةُ شَهْرٍ سَابَقَ المَوتُ بَعْلَهَا

إِلَيْهَا فَأَغْوَاهَا وَلَكِنْ عَلى طُهْرِ

A bride of a month, death preceded her groom

Tempting her, though in purity

أَتَاهَا عَلى غَيْرِ ارْتِقَابٍ بِخِدْرِهَا

سَرِيعاً خَفِيفاً خَارِقَ الحُجْبِ كالفِكرِ

He came suddenly, softly, piercing the veils like a thought

And kissed her, extracting her soul's essence

وَقَبَّلهَا فَاسْتَلَّ جَوْهَرَ رُوحِهَا

وَأَبْقَى عَلى رَسْمٍ كَبَعْضِ الدُّمَى الغُرِّ

Leaving but a trace, like some lifeless dolls

So too lightning bolts recoil

كَذَلِكَ نِيرَانُ الصوَاعِقِ تَنْثَنِي

عَنِ التُّرْبِ إِعْرَاضاً وَتَأْخُذُ بِالتِّبْرِ

From the soil in disdain, taking only dust

When they announced the death of that girl to her mother

فَلَما نَعَوْا تِلْكَ الْفَتَاةَ لأُمِّها

أَلَمَّ بِهَا سُكْرٌ وَمَا هِيَ فِي سُكْرِ

Intoxication seized her, though sober

Fantasies made her dance joyfully

عَرَاهَا خَبَالٌ فهْيَ تَرْقُصُ تَرْحَةً

وَتَنْشُدُ أَصْوَاتَ السُّرُورِ وَلا تدْرِي

Sing notes of happiness, unaware

Raving in her bereavement however it wished

وَتهْذِي مِن الحُمَّى بِمَا شَاءَ ثكْلُهَا

وَيَنْهَلُّ مِنْ أَجْفَانِهَا الدَّمْعُ كَالقَطْرِ

Tears streaming from her eyes like drops

My daughter, do not fret this demise

بُنَيَّة لا بَأْسٌ عَلَيْكِ مِنَ الرَّدَى

فَإِنَّك فِي أَمْنٍ لَدَى بَعْلِكِ الحُرِّ

You are safe with your noble husband

A bride whose dower a champion pays with his soul

عَرُوسٌ يُفَدِّيهَا بِمُهْجَتِهِ فَتى

لَهَا أَرْخَصَ الدُّرِّ الغَوَالِيَ فِي المَهْرِ

To whom the rarest pearls are but a trivial dowry

O bravest of horsemen in the throes of battle

فَيَا أَفْرَسَ الفُرْسَانِ فِي حَوْمَةِ الوَغَى

إِذَا سَالَتِ الأَسْيَافُ بِالأَنْفُسِ الحُمْرِ

When swords are drawn and red blood spills

After God, we take you as guardian of our home

تَخِذناكَ بَعْدَ اللّهِ حامِي دَارِنا

ولَيْسَ لَنَا عَوْنٌ سِوَاكَ عَلى الضُّرِّ

We have no other help against harm

How can death take one whose protection you are?

فَكَيْفَ يَنَالُ المَوْتُ مَنْ أَنْتَ عَاصِمٌ

فَيَخْطِفُهَا مِنِّي وَيَسْلَمُ مِنْ وِتْرِ

Snatching her from me, evading your blade

The one I wished would quench the thirsty ground

لِمَنْ تَسْتَعِدُّ السَّيفَ كُنْتُ أَوَدُّهُ

يُرَوِّي الثَّرَى الظَّمْآنَ مِنْ مُهْجَةِ الدَّهْرِ

With the lifeblood of fate’s jugular vein

They prepared a bejeweled wedding dress for her

أَعِدَّوا لَهَا ثَوَبَ الزَّفافِ مُرَصَّعاً

وَصُوغُوا لَهَا الحَليَ الثَّمِينَ مِنَ الدُّرِّ

And fashioned precious pearls and gold as jewelry

Do not deny her stillness in sleep

وَلا تُنْكِرُوا هَذَا السُّكونَ بِنَوْمِهَا

أَلَيْسَ كَذَا نَوْمُ المُحَصَّنةِ البِكْرِ

Is not such the slumber of a cloistered virgin?

My tears are a mother’s at her daughter’s wedding

وَدَمْعِي دمْعُ الأُمِّ فِي عُرْسِ بِنْتِهَا

فَلا تُنْكِرُوُه لَيْسَ فِي الدَّمْعِ مِنْ نُكْرِ

Do not reproach them, tears need no excuse

God granted your wedding’s splendor, nothing like it

لَكِ اللّهُ مَا أَبْهَى زَفَافَكِ إِنَّهُ

تَفَرَّدَ مَا بيْنَ الموَاكِبِ فِي مِصْرِ

Among processions anywhere in Egypt

But why do hands carry you above them

وَلَكِنْ لِمَ الأَيْدِي تُقِلُّكِ فَوْقَهَا

مُوسَّدَةً وَالصَّاحِبَاتُ بِلا عِطْرِ

Cushioned, while friends are scentless?

Does a bier or bridal couch bear you

يَضُمُّك نَعْشٌ أَمْ أَرِيكَةُ زَفَّةٍ

ويَحْفِلُ قوْمٌ لِلسُّرُورِ أَمِ الأَجْرِ

And does a crowd gather for joy or condolence?

Lo! This is a funeral procession they adorn

أَلاَ إِنَّ هَذَا مَوْكِبُ المَوْتِ زَانَهُ

لَكِ الأَهْلُ بِالطَّرْزِ الأَنِيقِ وَبِالزَّهْرِ

With graceful style and blossoms for you

Your mother's heartbreak cannot suffice

وَأُمُّك لاَ يَكْفي التَّفجُّع قَلْبُهَا

إِذَا لَمْ يَكُنْ فِي صُوَرَةِ السَّعْدِ وَالبِشْرِ

Unless shown as fortune and glad tiding

O sun of beauty, your setting came early

فَيَا شَمْسَ حُسْنٍ بَكَّرَتْ فِي زَوَالِهَا

لَئِنْ غِبْتِ فَالزَّهْرُ الثَّوَابِتُ فِي الإِثْرِ

Though flowers of memory will endure

I weep not because I knew you, but

بَكَيْتُكِ لا أَني عَرَفتُكِ إِنَّما

لِخَطبِكِ هَذا كُلُّ ناضِبَةٍ تَجْرِي

For this fate, which makes every nursing mother cry