غَرِيبٌa stranger تَهُزُّstirs الْحَيَاةُlife حَنِينِيmy longing
غَرِيبٌ تَهُزُّ الْحَيَاةُ حَنِينِي
وَتَتْرُكُنِيand leaves me غَارِقًاimmersed فِيin شُجُونِيmy sorrows
وَتَتْرُكُنِي غَارِقًا فِي شُجُونِي
I am a stranger; life stirs my longing,
and leaves me drowning in my sorrows.
فَأَصْرُخُso I cry out فِيin وَجْهِهَاher face مُغْضَبًاangrily
فَأَصْرُخُ فِي وَجْهِهَا مُغْضَبًا
إِذَاif كُنْتِyou are أُمِّيmy mother فَلاَthen do not تُهْمِلِينِيneglect me
إِذَا كُنْتِ أُمِّي فَلاَ تُهْمِلِينِي
So I cry out angrily in her face:
If you are my mother, do not neglect me.
وَإِنْand if كُنْتُI am وَحْدِيَby myself سِرَّthe secret of الوُجُودِexistence
وَإِنْ كُنْتُ وَحْدِيَ سِرَّ الوُجُودِ
كَمَاas تَزْعُمِينَyou claim، فَجُلِّيthen dispel ظُنُونِيmy doubts
كَمَا تَزْعُمِينَ، فَجُلِّي ظُنُونِي
And if I alone am the secret of existence,
as you claim, then dispel my doubts.
أَأَنْتِare you الَّتِيthe one who عَلَّمَتْshe taught أَهْلَهَاher people
أَأَنْتِ الَّتِي عَلَّمَتْ أَهْلَهَا
بِأَنْto يَطْلُبُونِيthey seek me out لِكَيْso as to يَصْلِبُونِيthey crucify me؟!
بِأَنْ يَطْلُبُونِي لِكَيْ يَصْلِبُونِي؟!
Are you the one who taught her people
to seek me out so they might crucify me?!
وَقَدْand indeed كُنْتُI had been فِيon دَرْبِهِمْtheir path وَاحَةًan oasis
وَقَدْ كُنْتُ فِي دَرْبِهِمْ وَاحَةً
أَبُلُّI quench صَدَاهُمْtheir thirst بِمَاءٍwith water مَعِينِflowing
أَبُلُّ صَدَاهُمْ بِمَاءٍ مَعِينِ
Though I had been an oasis along their path,
quenching their thirst with flowing water,
وَرَوْضًاand a garden زَكِيًّاfragrant قَرِيبَnear الثِّمَارِthe fruits
وَرَوْضًا زَكِيًّا قَرِيبَ الثِّمَارِ
فَمَاyet not أَزْمَعُواthey resolved غَيْرَother than أَنْto يَحْرِقُونِيthey burn me
فَمَا أَزْمَعُوا غَيْرَ أَنْ يَحْرِقُونِي
and a fragrant garden with fruit within reach,
they resolved on nothing but burning me.
وَنَايًاand a flute فَتِيَّyouthful اللُّحُونِthe melodies.. فَجَاؤُواthen they came
وَنَايًا فَتِيَّ اللُّحُونِ.. فَجَاؤُوا
بِأَبْوَاقِwith trumpets of فِسْقٍvice لِكَيْso as to يُخْرِسُونِيthey silence me
بِأَبْوَاقِ فِسْقٍ لِكَيْ يُخْرِسُونِي
And a flute with youthful melodies—yet they came
with trumpets of vice to silence me.
وَشَمْسًاand a sun تُضِيءُilluminates الدُّرُوبَthe paths، وَلَكِنْand yet
وَشَمْسًا تُضِيءُ الدُّرُوبَ، وَلَكِنْ
أَرَادُواthey wished وَهَيْهَاتَand how impossible أَنْto يُطْفِئُونِيthey extinguish me
أَرَادُوا وَهَيْهَاتَ أَنْ يُطْفِئُونِي
And a sun that lights the paths; yet
they wished—in vain—to extinguish me.
أَنَاI يَاO حَيَاةُLife رَضِيتُI am content بِمَاwith what قَدْfirst part of 'decreed'
أَنَا يَا حَيَاةُ رَضِيتُ بِمَا قَدْ
دَرَcompletion of 'decreed' اللهُGod لِيfor me، وَبِهَمِّand with the burden of السِّنِينِthe years
دَرَ اللهُ لِي، وَبِهَمِّ السِّنِينِ
I, O Life, am content with what
God has decreed for me, and with the burdens of the years.
وَلَكِنْand yet لِمَاذَاwhy نَثَرْتُI scattered أَحِبَّاloved ones
وَلَكِنْ لِمَاذَا نَثَرْتُ أَحِبَّا
يَmy بَيْنَamong شَرِيدٍan exile، شَهِيدٍa martyr، سَجِينِa prisoner
يَ بَيْنَ شَرِيدٍ، شَهِيدٍ، سَجِينِ
And yet why have I scattered my loved ones
among the exiled, the martyred, the imprisoned?
وَفِيand in رُوحِthe soul of كُلِّeach أَخٍbrother لِيfor me حَيَاةٌa life
وَفِي رُوحِ كُلِّ أَخٍ لِي حَيَاةٌ
أَمُوتُI die إِذَاwhen غَرَبَتْit sets عَنْfrom عُيُونِيmy eyes
أَمُوتُ إِذَا غَرَبَتْ عَنْ عُيُونِي
And in each brother's soul I have a life;
I die when it sets beyond my sight.
وَكَيْفَand how تَكُونُis حَيَاةُthe life of الْمُشَرَّfirst part of 'the displaced person'
وَكَيْفَ تَكُونُ حَيَاةُ الْمُشَرَّ
دِcompletion of 'the displaced person' فِيin كُلِّevery أَرْضٍland وَفِيand at كُلِّevery حِينِtime؟!
دِ فِي كُلِّ أَرْضٍ وَفِي كُلِّ حِينِ؟!
And what is life like for the displaced
in every land and at every hour?!
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تَبَسَّمَتِsmiled الأُمُّthe mother فِيwith رِقَّةٍgentleness
تَبَسَّمَتِ الأُمُّ فِي رِقَّةٍ
وَقَالَتْand she said بِصَوْتٍin a voice شَجِيِّplaintive الرَّنِينِthe resonance:
وَقَالَتْ بِصَوْتٍ شَجِيِّ الرَّنِينِ:
The mother smiled gently,
and said in a voice with a plaintive ring:
هُوَit الدَّرْبُthe path، دَرْبُthe path of الهُدَاةِthe guides الأُبَاةِthe unbowed
هُوَ الدَّرْبُ، دَرْبُ الهُدَاةِ الأُبَاةِ
مَلِيءٌfull بِشَوْكِwith thorns of الأَسَىsorrow وَالأَنِينِand groaning
مَلِيءٌ بِشَوْكِ الأَسَى وَالأَنِينِ
It is the path—the path of unbowed guides—
full of the thorns of sorrow and groaning.
وَمَنْand whoever كَانَis يَبْغِيseeking جِنَانَthe gardens of النَّعِيمِbliss
وَمَنْ كَانَ يَبْغِي جِنَانَ النَّعِيمِ
يَجِدْwill find سُكْرَهُhis intoxication فِيin كُؤُوسِthe cups of الْمَنُونِdeath
يَجِدْ سُكْرَهُ فِي كُؤُوسِ الْمَنُونِ
And whoever seeks the gardens of bliss
will find his intoxication in the cups of death.
فَيَاso O عَاشِقَlover of الخُلْدِimmortality، إِنِّيindeed I وَلَدْتُI bore
فَيَا عَاشِقَ الخُلْدِ، إِنِّي وَلَدْتُ
كَyou حُرًّاfree، طَمُوحًاambitious، فَسِرْso go forth بِيَقِينِwith certainty
كَ حُرًّا، طَمُوحًا، فَسِرْ بِيَقِينِ
So, O lover of immortality, I bore
you free and ambitious; go forth with certainty.
وَيَرْعَىand watches over خُطَاكَyour steps الَّذِيthe One who سَيَّرَsteered الكَوْfirst part of 'the universe'
وَيَرْعَى خُطَاكَ الَّذِي سَيَّرَ الكَوْ
نَcompletion of 'the universe' فِيupon بَحْرِthe sea of أَقْدَارِهِHis decrees كَالسَّفِينِlike ships
نَ فِي بَحْرِ أَقْدَارِهِ كَالسَّفِينِ
And your steps are watched over by Him who steered the universe
like ships upon the sea of His decrees.
Sol 6.1