إلا يا دارُ لا أوحشتِ يوماً

إلا يا دارُ لا أوحشتِ يوماً

فكم أصبحت في أنسٍ وأمنِ

فكم أصبحت في أنسٍ وأمنِ

Ah, dwelling, may you never be desolate,

Oh home, never have you become desolate

For how often you have dawned in companionship and safety!

How often you were in intimacy and safety

أخافُ عليكِ من نيرانِ قلبي

أخافُ عليكِ من نيرانِ قلبي

وأشفق فيك من طوفان جفني

وأشفق فيك من طوفان جفني

I fear for you the fires of my heart,

I fear for you from the fires of my heart

And dread for you the deluge from my eyelid.

And protect you from the flood of my eyelids

وأعتبُ فيَّ أحداث الليالي

وأعتبُ فيَّ أحداث الليالي

وكم فجعت أباً في الدهر بابنِ

وكم فجعت أباً في الدهر بابنِ

And I reproach the nights' calamities for my plight;

I blame the events of the nights upon myself

And how often, through the ages, have they bereaved a father of a son!

And how much grief they caused a father for his son

فوا أسفا على وجهٍ وقدٍ

فوا أسفا على وجهٍ وقدٍ

هما شجناي من طلقٍ ولدنِ

هما شجناي من طلقٍ ولدنِ

Ah, my sorrow for a face and a form,

Alas for a face and a promise

They are my two sorrows: one radiant, one supple.

They are my two laments from a divorce and a child

دفنتهما فواكمدي وقولي

دفنتهما فواكمدي وقولي

دفنتهما مقالٌ ليس يُغني

دفنتهما مقالٌ ليس يُغني

I buried them both—oh, my anguish! And my saying

I buried them and so extinguish your fires and say

'I buried them both' is a statement that avails nothing.

I buried them, words that do not avail

فألمم بالمحلة وأشكُ بثي

فألمم بالمحلة وأشكُ بثي

هناك لصاحب القبر المبنّ

هناك لصاحب القبر المبنّ

So I visit the dwelling and lament my anguish

So I frequented the abode and doubted my judgment

There to the abiding occupant of the grave.

There at the grave of the buried one

سلا عني ولما أسلُ عنهُ

سلا عني ولما أسلُ عنهُ

فواقلقي لثاوٍ مطمئنٍ

فواقلقي لثاوٍ مطمئنٍ

He has forgotten me, but I have not yet forgotten him;

Ask about me but when I ask about him

Oh, my unrest for one who lies at peace!

Then disturb me, for one tranquil, composed

وإني للصبورُ على الرزَّايا

وإني للصبورُ على الرزَّايا

ومن برح الأسى قولي وأني

ومن برح الأسى قولي وأني

And I am indeed steadfast under calamities;

And I am patient with adversities

And my words and moans spring from grief's torment.

And whoever flees sorrow, say I am he

وعزَّ عليه لو يدري وقوفي

وعزَّ عليه لو يدري وقوفي

وأن أدعو صداه ولم يُجبني

وأن أدعو صداه ولم يُجبني

And, if he knew, my standing there would pain him,

And it was difficult for him, had he known my stance

And my calling to his lifeless form, though he does not answer me.

And that I call to him but he does not answer me

فيا للهِ ما جنتِ المنايا

فيا للهِ ما جنتِ المنايا

وما سلبتْ يدُ الأيام مني

وما سلبتْ يدُ الأيام مني

Oh, God, what death has wrought,

Oh my, what the fates have sown

And what the hand of days has stolen from me!

And what the days have seized from me

وكم لي فيكِ من ولدٍ وخلٍّ

وكم لي فيكِ من ولدٍ وخلٍّ

هما الأخوانِ من حُسنى وحُسن

هما الأخوانِ من حُسنى وحُسن

And how many sons and friends I have within you—

And how many a son and friend I have in you

They are the two brothers in goodness and beauty.

They are the two brothers, my beauty and beauty

فلا نظرتْ بسفحكِ أمُّ خشفٍ

فلا نظرتْ بسفحكِ أمُّ خشفٍ

ولا سجعت بدوحك بنتُ غصن

ولا سجعت بدوحك بنتُ غصن

So may no mother of a fawn gaze on your slope,

So neither a sobbing mother looked in your plains

Nor may a daughter of a bough coo in your spreading trees.

Nor the daughter of a branch warbled in your valleys