وقفتُ على رسمٍ ببيداءَ بلقعِ

وقفتُ على رسمٍ ببيداءَ بلقعِ

خليٍّ من النّادي صَموتٍ إذا دُعي

خليٍّ من النّادي صَموتٍ إذا دُعي

I stood by a dwelling's traces in a barren wilderness,

I stood upon a ruin in the wilderness,

empty of company, mute when called.

Empty of folk, still from all calling out,

نَبتْ عنه عَيني ثم قال لَها الهَوى

نَبتْ عنه عَيني ثم قال لَها الهَوى

هي الدّارُ فاستمْرِي شُؤونَكِ وادمَعي

هي الدّارُ فاستمْرِي شُؤونَكِ وادمَعي

My eye turned away from it; then love said to it:

My eyes rained tears and then love said to them,

It is the dwelling; so draw tears from your ducts and weep.

"This is the abode so pour down your rains and weep,

ولا تُنكِري للدّهرِ إخلاقَ جدّةٍ

ولا تُنكِري للدّهرِ إخلاقَ جدّةٍ

وتَشتيتَ أُلاَّفٍ وإيحاشَ مَجمَعِ

وتَشتيتَ أُلاَّفٍ وإيحاشَ مَجمَعِ

Nor find it strange that time wears out what is new,

And do not deny that time has traits of one grown old,

and scatters close companions and desolates a gathering place.

Scattering of friends and shunning of meeting place,

فللموتِ سُكّانُ الديارِ ولِلبَلى

فللموتِ سُكّانُ الديارِ ولِلبَلى

مَنازِلُهم وشَملُهُم للتّصَدُّعِ

مَنازِلُهم وشَملُهُم للتّصَدُّعِ

For the dwellers of the homes belong to death, and to decay

For death has people of the house as residents,

belong their dwellings; their union is destined to break apart.

And their homes are for decay and their state for crumbling,

فصبراً فإنْ عزَّتْ نوائبُ دهرِنا

فصبراً فإنْ عزَّتْ نوائبُ دهرِنا

وأحداثُه حُسنَ التَّصبُّرِ فاجزِعِ

وأحداثُه حُسنَ التَّصبُّرِ فاجزِعِ

So be patient; for if the calamities of our time

So show patience, for if our time's calamities are burdensome,

and its upheavals defeat noble endurance, then give way to grief.

And its events difficult, patience makes them easier, so grieve."