رَمِيَّ المَوتِ إِنَّ السَهمَ صابا

رَمِيَّ المَوتِ إِنَّ السَهمَ صابا

وَمَن يُدمِن عَلى رَميٍ أَصابا

وَمَن يُدمِن عَلى رَميٍ أَصابا

O target of death, the arrow has hit its mark;

The arrows of death always hit their mark

and whoever persists in shooting hits the mark.

And he who persistently shoots will hit the target

وَكُنتَ العَيشَ مُتَّصِلاً وَلكِن

وَكُنتَ العَيشَ مُتَّصِلاً وَلكِن

تَصَرَّمَ حينَ لَذَّ وَحينَ طابا

تَصَرَّمَ حينَ لَذَّ وَحينَ طابا

And you were life itself, unbroken; but

You lived a life of continuance, but then

it was cut short when it grew sweet and when it grew pleasant.

You enjoyed yourself for a while and then passed away

وَشَيَّبَني اِنتِظاري كُلَّ يَومٍ

وَشَيَّبَني اِنتِظاري كُلَّ يَومٍ

لِعَهدِكَ كَرَّةً وَالدَهرُ يابى

لِعَهدِكَ كَرَّةً وَالدَهرُ يابى

And my waiting every day has turned me gray

Waiting for you day after day made me grey

for your days to return, while time refuses.

Again and again, while time betrayed me

إِلامَ أَشُبُّ مِن نيرانِ قَلبي

إِلامَ أَشُبُّ مِن نيرانِ قَلبي

عَلَيكَ لِكُلِّ قافِيَةٍ شِهابا

عَلَيكَ لِكُلِّ قافِيَةٍ شِهابا

How long shall I kindle from my heart's fires

Why do the fires in my heart resemble

a blazing flame for every rhyme in mourning you?

A shower of sparks for every rhyme about you

وَقَد وَدَّعتُ قَبلَكَ كُلَّ سَفرٍ

وَقَد وَدَّعتُ قَبلَكَ كُلَّ سَفرٍ

وَلكِن غابَ حيناً ثُمَّ آبا

وَلكِن غابَ حيناً ثُمَّ آبا

And before you I had bidden every band of travelers farewell;

I bid farewell to all journeys before you

but they were gone a while, then came back.

But you were gone for a while, then came back

وَأَهيَجُ ما أَكونُ لَكَ اِدِّكاراً

وَأَهيَجُ ما أَكونُ لَكَ اِدِّكاراً

إِذا ما النَجمُ صَوَّبَ ثُمَّ غابا

إِذا ما النَجمُ صَوَّبَ ثُمَّ غابا

And remembrance of you stirs me most

I am stirred whenever I remember you

when the star sinks and then disappears.

Whenever a star takes aim and then sets

أَرى فَقدَ الحَبيبِ مِنَ المَنايا

أَرى فَقدَ الحَبيبِ مِنَ المَنايا

إِلى يَأسٍ كَمَن فَقَدَ الشَبابا

إِلى يَأسٍ كَمَن فَقَدَ الشَبابا

I see the loss of a beloved through death

In losing a beloved to death, I see

leading to despair, like one who has lost youth.

Hopelessness, like one who lost youth

وَما مَعنى الحَياةِ بِلا شَبابٍ

وَما مَعنى الحَياةِ بِلا شَبابٍ

سَواءٌ ماتَ في المَعنى وَشابا

سَواءٌ ماتَ في المَعنى وَشابا

And what does life mean without youth?

What is the meaning of life without youth

In essence, dying and turning gray are the same.

Whether one died young or old does not matter

وَلَيلِ أَسىً كَصُبحِ الشَيبِ قُبحاً

وَلَيلِ أَسىً كَصُبحِ الشَيبِ قُبحاً

أُكابِدُهُ سُهاداً وَاِنتِحابا

أُكابِدُهُ سُهاداً وَاِنتِحابا

And many a night of grief, ugly as the dawn of gray hair,

The night of sorrow is as ugly as the dawn of old age

I endure in sleeplessness and sobbing.

I suffer it, lamenting and weeping

تَزيدُ بِهِ جَوانِحِيَ اِتِّقاداً

تَزيدُ بِهِ جَوانِحِيَ اِتِّقاداً

إِذا زادَت مَدامِعِيَ اِنسِكابا

إِذا زادَت مَدامِعِيَ اِنسِكابا

My ribs burn more fiercely in it

With it, the flames in my soul are stoked

when my tear ducts pour more freely.

When my tears flow more strongly

وَشَرُّ مُكابَداتِ القَلبِ حالٌ

وَشَرُّ مُكابَداتِ القَلبِ حالٌ

يُريكَ الضِدَّ بَينَهُما اِنتِسابا

يُريكَ الضِدَّ بَينَهُما اِنتِسابا

And the worst of the heart's ordeals is a state

The worst suffering of the heart is a state

that makes the opposition between them seem a kinship.

That makes opposites seem akin

لَعَلَّكَ وَالعُلومُ مُغَنِّياتٌ

لَعَلَّكَ وَالعُلومُ مُغَنِّياتٌ

نَسيتَ هُناكَ بَالغُنمِ الإِيابا

نَسيتَ هُناكَ بَالغُنمِ الإِيابا

Perhaps you, with the sciences singing,

Maybe you and your knowledge made you forget

forgot, amid your gains there, to return.

The sheep you left behind while you were away

أَيا عَبدَ الإِلهِ نِداءَ يَأسٍ

أَيا عَبدَ الإِلهِ نِداءَ يَأسٍ

وَهَل أَرجو لَدى رَمسٍ جَوابا

وَهَل أَرجو لَدى رَمسٍ جَوابا

O Abd al-Ilah—a cry of despair!

Oh servant of God, a call of despair

And can I hope for an answer beside a grave?

Can I hope for an answer from a tomb?

أَصِخ لي كَيفَ شِئتَ فَإِنَّ أُنساً

أَصِخ لي كَيفَ شِئتَ فَإِنَّ أُنساً

لِنَفسِيَ أَن تُبَلِّغَكَ الخِطابا

لِنَفسِيَ أَن تُبَلِّغَكَ الخِطابا

Listen to me however you wish, for it is a comfort

Grieve for me however you wish, for my spirit

to my soul to convey these words to you.

Finds comfort in conveying this message to you

يَسوءُ العَينَ أَن يَعتَنَّ رَدمٌ

يَسوءُ العَينَ أَن يَعتَنَّ رَدمٌ

مِنَ الغَبراءِ بَينَكُما حِجابا

مِنَ الغَبراءِ بَينَكُما حِجابا

It pains the eye that a mound should rise,

It pains the eye that a pile of dust

a veil of dusty earth between you both,

Forms a barrier between you and me

وَأَن تَحتَلَّها غَبراءَ ضَنكاً

وَأَن تَحتَلَّها غَبراءَ ضَنكاً

كَما يُستَودَعُ السَيفُ القِرابا

كَما يُستَودَعُ السَيفُ القِرابا

and that you should inhabit that dusty, cramped earth,

And that dreary dust occupies it

as a sword is laid within its sheath,

As a sword occupies its sheath

مُجاوِرَ جِلَّةٍ ضَرَبَت شَعوبٌ

مُجاوِرَ جِلَّةٍ ضَرَبَت شَعوبٌ

بِعالِيَةِ البَقيعِ لَهُم قِبابا

بِعالِيَةِ البَقيعِ لَهُم قِبابا

a neighbor to illustrious men; Death has pitched

Dwelling near many, whose nations

pavilions for them on the heights of al-Baqi.

Erected domes for them in al-Baqi‘ cemetery

وَكَم فَوقَ الثَرى مِن رَوضِ حُسنٍ

وَكَم فَوقَ الثَرى مِن رَوضِ حُسنٍ

جَرى نَفَسُ الأَسى فيهِ فَذابا

جَرى نَفَسُ الأَسى فيهِ فَذابا

And many a garden of beauty upon the earth—

And how many meadows of beauty beneath the soil

grief's breath coursed through it, and it melted away.

Which the breath of anguish flowed through and melted

فَقَد نَشَرَ الخُدودَ عَلى التَراقي

فَقَد نَشَرَ الخُدودَ عَلى التَراقي

وَشابَ بِقَلبِيَ الدَمعَ الرُضابا

وَشابَ بِقَلبِيَ الدَمعَ الرُضابا

For it has spread cheeks upon the collarbones

It spread the cheeks across the slope

and mingled tears with saliva in my heart.

And my tears moistened it and bubbled forth

سَقاكَ وَلا أَخُصُّ رَبابَ مُزنٍ

سَقاكَ وَلا أَخُصُّ رَبابَ مُزنٍ

لَعَلَّ ثَراكَ قَد سَئِمَ الرَبابا

لَعَلَّ ثَراكَ قَد سَئِمَ الرَبابا

May you be watered—I do not mean banks of rain clouds alone;

I did not water you, nor do I own a gentle raincloud

perhaps your soil has grown weary of clouds—

Perhaps your burial mound grew weary of rain

وَلكِن ما يَسوغُ عَلى التَكافي

وَلكِن ما يَسوغُ عَلى التَكافي

لِقَبرِكَ أَن يَكونَ لَهُ شَرابا

لِقَبرِكَ أَن يَكونَ لَهُ شَرابا

but with what is fitting, in due requital,

But what could justify your grave

for your grave to have as its drink.

Receiving a drink?

فَإِنّي رُبَّما اِستَسقَيتُ يَوماً

فَإِنّي رُبَّما اِستَسقَيتُ يَوماً

لَكَ الجَونَينِ جَفنِيَ وَالسَحابا

لَكَ الجَونَينِ جَفنِيَ وَالسَحابا

For on some days I have begged for rain

For I may someday beseech

for you from the two dark ones—my eyelid and the clouds.

The clouds to cry for me over you

فَتَخجَلُ مِن مُلوحَتِها دُموعي

فَتَخجَلُ مِن مُلوحَتِها دُموعي

إِذا ذَكَرَت شَمائِلَكَ العِذابا

إِذا ذَكَرَت شَمائِلَكَ العِذابا

Then my tears are ashamed of their saltiness

My tears would be ashamed of their saltiness

when they recall your sweet qualities.

When they remember your torment and pain

تَكادُ عَلى التَتابُعِ وَهيَ حُمرٌ

تَكادُ عَلى التَتابُعِ وَهيَ حُمرٌ

تَحَيَّرُ في مَحاجِرِيَ اِرتِيابا

تَحَيَّرُ في مَحاجِرِيَ اِرتِيابا

Streaming one after another, red, they almost

Successive red droplets that

hesitate in my eye sockets, in doubt.

Wander confused in my eye sockets

فَلَيتَ أَحَمَّ مِسكٍ عادَ غَيماً

فَلَيتَ أَحَمَّ مِسكٍ عادَ غَيماً

فَحامَ عَلى ضَريحِكَ ثُمَّ صابا

فَحامَ عَلى ضَريحِكَ ثُمَّ صابا

If only jet-black musk would turn into a cloud,

I wish a vial of musk would turn to clouds

and hover above your tomb, then rain down,

And pour down upon your grave

وَزاحَمَ في ثَراكَ الدَمعَ حَتّى

وَزاحَمَ في ثَراكَ الدَمعَ حَتّى

يَشُقَّ إِلى مَفارِقِكَ التُرابا

يَشُقَّ إِلى مَفارِقِكَ التُرابا

and vie with tears within your soil until

It would compete with my tears to penetrate

it cleaves the earth to reach the partings of your hair.

Your burial soil