كُلَّما أَبَّنتُ مُنتَجبي

كُلَّما أَبَّنتُ مُنتَجبي

زادَني تَأبينُهُ لَهَجا

زادَني تَأبينُهُ لَهَجا

Whenever I eulogize my chosen one,

Whenever I eulogize my chosen one,

Whenever I mourn my beloved

Whenever I eulogize my chosen one,

eulogizing him only increases my ardor.

Eulogizing him deepens my longing.

His elegy makes me more eloquent

The act of mourning him only deepens my fervor.

وَبَنو ذا الدَّهرِ كُلُّهُمُ

وَبَنو ذا الدَّهرِ كُلُّهُمُ

لَو رَآهُم مادِحٌ لَهَجا

لَو رَآهُم مادِحٌ لَهَجا

And all the sons of this age—

And all the sons of this age—

And the people of this age, all of them

And as for all the sons of this era,

a panegyrist, seeing them, would wax impassioned.

If a praise-poet saw them, he would surely satirize them.

Had a praiser seen them, he would have been eloquent

If a praiser viewed them, he would falter in speech.

وَلَدي نالَ الرِّضا وَرَأى

وَلَدي نالَ الرِّضا وَرَأى

خَلَدي ما نالَهُ فَرَجا

خَلَدي ما نالَهُ فَرَجا

My son attained divine favor; and my heart

My son attained favor, and it seemed

My son attained contentment and saw

My son has attained Divine favor, and my soul

saw in what befell him a deliverance.

To my heart that what befell him was relief.

My eternity what he attained hoping

Perceived what he attained as a merciful release.

ضِقتُ ذرعاً مِن رَزِيّته

ضِقتُ ذرعاً مِن رَزِيّته

رَبِّ فَاِجعَل مِنكَ لي فَرَجا

رَبِّ فَاِجعَل مِنكَ لي فَرَجا

I can no longer bear the calamity of losing him.

I could not bear the calamity of losing him.

I felt distressed from his tragedy

I am suffocated by the magnitude of his tragedy;

Lord, grant me relief from You.

My Lord, then let relief come to me from You.

O Lord make for me from You relief

O Lord, grant me a deliverance from Your presence.

راعِفٌ مِمّا جَرى دَمُهُ

راعِفٌ مِمّا جَرى دَمُهُ

حَسِبوا عرنينَهُ وَدَجا

حَسِبوا عرنينَهُ وَدَجا

His blood gushes at all that has happened—

His blood streamed so freely from his nose

A slaughtered from what his blood flowed

Bleeding profusely as his lifeblood poured forth,

they mistook his nose-bridge for a jugular vein.

That they thought his nose a jugular vein.

They thought his groaning was mumbling

They mistook the bridge of his nose for a gushing vein.

بِأَبي ريحانَة ذَبُلت

بِأَبي ريحانَة ذَبُلت

جَلَّ عِندي خَطبُها وَدَجا

جَلَّ عِندي خَطبُها وَدَجا

My father be ransom for a fragrant blossom that withered;

May my father be ransom for a basil sprig that withered;

By my father Rayhana has wilted

I would ransom with my father a sweet basil that has withered,

grievous to me was its loss—and darkness fell.

Its calamity loomed vast and dark to me.

His talk when brought up has great weight

Whose loss is grievous to me, and has cast a darkness.