ما لآفاقِكَ يا قلبيَ سوداً حالكاتْ

ما لآفاقِكَ يا قلبيَ سوداً حالكاتْ

ولأوْرادِكَ بَيْنََ الشَّوْكِ صُفراً ذاوياتْ

ولأوْرادِكَ بَيْنََ الشَّوْكِ صُفراً ذاوياتْ

Why are your horizons, my heart, so black, so dark?

Why is your horizon so gloomy, my heart

Why are your horizons, O my heart, in pitch-black gloom?

And your roses among the thorns, yellow and withered?

And your roses amidst thorns all withered and yellowed

And your roses, amidst the thorns, are yellowed and withered?

ولأطْياركَ لا تلغو فأينَ النَّغَماتْ

ولأطْياركَ لا تلغو فأينَ النَّغَماتْ

ما لمِزْمارِكَ لا يشدو بغير الشَهَقاتْ

ما لمِزْمارِكَ لا يشدو بغير الشَهَقاتْ

And why do your birds not warble—where are the melodies?

And your birds do not sing, where are the melodies

And your birds have ceased their chatter; where now are the tunes?

Why does your flute sing nothing but sobs?

Why does your flute not play except sighing

Why does your flute chant nothing but gasping breaths?

ولأوتارِكَ لا تَخْفُقُ إلاَّ شاكِياتْ

ولأوتارِكَ لا تَخْفُقُ إلاَّ شاكِياتْ

ولأنغامِكَ لا تَنْطُقُ إلاَّ باكِياتْ

ولأنغامِكَ لا تَنْطُقُ إلاَّ باكِياتْ

And why do your strings quiver only in complaint?

And your strings plucked only lamenting

And your strings do not tremble save to voice complaints?

And why do your melodies speak only through tears?

And your tunes speak nothing but crying

And your melodies utter nothing but weeping sounds?

ولقد كانتْ صَباحَ الأمْس بَيْنَ النَّسَماتْ

ولقد كانتْ صَباحَ الأمْس بَيْنَ النَّسَماتْ

كعذارى الغابِ لا تعرِفُ غيرَ البَسَماتْ

كعذارى الغابِ لا تعرِفُ غيرَ البَسَماتْ

Yet yesterday morning, amid the breezes, they were

Yet yesterday morn mid the breeze

Yet only yesterday morning, amidst the gentle breeze,

Like maidens of the forest, knowing nothing but smiles.

Were maidens who know nothing but smiles

They were like forest maidens who knew nothing but smiles.

هو ذا يا قلبيَ البَحْرُ وأمواجُ الحياةْ

هو ذا يا قلبيَ البَحْرُ وأمواجُ الحياةْ

هو ذا القارِبُ مشدوداً إلى تِلْكَ الصَّفاةْ

هو ذا القارِبُ مشدوداً إلى تِلْكَ الصَّفاةْ

Here, my heart, are the sea and the waves of life.

Where are your dreams, my heart, the chance is past

Behold, O my heart, the sea and the surging waves of life;

Here is the boat, tethered to that smooth rock.

Those are elegant, happy, chirping birds

Behold the boat, still tethered fast to yonder rock;

هو ذا الشاطئُ لكنْ أينَ رُبَّانُكَ ماتْ

هو ذا الشاطئُ لكنْ أينَ رُبَّانُكَ ماتْ

أين أحلامُك يا قلبي لقد فاتَ الفَواتْ

أين أحلامُك يا قلبي لقد فاتَ الفَواتْ

Here is the shore—but where is your helmsman? He is dead.

That sang then hid in the obscurity of life

Behold the shore—but where is your captain? He is dead.

Where are your dreams, my heart? All is past recall.

You, my heart, are a heart ripened by sighs

Where are your dreams, O my heart? The time has forever passed.

تِلْكََ أطيارٌ أنيقاتٌ طِرابٌ فرِحاتْ

تِلْكََ أطيارٌ أنيقاتٌ طِرابٌ فرِحاتْ

غرَّدتْ ثمَّ توارتْ في غياباتِ الحَياةْ

غرَّدتْ ثمَّ توارتْ في غياباتِ الحَياةْ

Those were graceful birds, merry and glad;

You are a nest the crows all abandoned

Those were elegant birds, enraptured and full of joy,

They sang, then vanished into life's hidden depths.

So the raging winds blew it to the river

They warbled, then vanished into the dark voids of life.

أَنْتَ يا قلبيَ قلبٌ أنضجَتْهُ الزَّفَراتْ

أَنْتَ يا قلبيَ قلبٌ أنضجَتْهُ الزَّفَراتْ

أَنْتَ يا قلبيَ عُشُّ نَفَرَتْ عنهُ القَطَاةْ

أَنْتَ يا قلبيَ عُشُّ نَفَرَتْ عنهُ القَطَاةْ

You, my heart, are a heart ripened by sighs.

Where it is debris and bare planks in the current

You, O my heart, are a heart ripened by burning sighs;

You, my heart, are a nest from which the sandgrouse fled.

You are a barren field the shepherds all scorned

You, O my heart, are a nest abandoned by the sandgrouse,

فأطارَتْهُ إلى النَّهْرِ الرِّياحُ العاتِياتْ

فأطارَتْهُ إلى النَّهْرِ الرِّياحُ العاتِياتْ

فَهو في التيَّار أوراقٌ وأعوادٌ عُراةْ

فَهو في التيَّار أوراقٌ وأعوادٌ عُراةْ

Then the raging winds blew it into the river,

You are a dark night filled with crying

Which the violent winds have swept away into the river,

So in the current it is leaves and bare twigs.

You are a gloomy cave where the miserable seek refuge

Leaving it, within the current, as leaves and naked twigs.

أَنْتَ حقلٌ مُجْدبٌ قَدْ هَزَأتْ منه الرُّعاةْ

أَنْتَ حقلٌ مُجْدبٌ قَدْ هَزَأتْ منه الرُّعاةْ

أَنْتَ ليلٌ مُعْتِمٌ تَنْدُبُ فيه الباكياتْ

أَنْتَ ليلٌ مُعْتِمٌ تَنْدُبُ فيه الباكياتْ

You are a barren field the shepherds have mocked.

You are a palace love built on the river of life

You are a barren field at which the shepherds have scoffed;

You are a dark night in which weeping women lament.

For the daughters of poetry but time ruined it

You are a dark night wherein weeping women mourn;

أَنْتَ كهفٌ مظلِمٌ تأوي إليه البائِساتْ

أَنْتَ كهفٌ مظلِمٌ تأوي إليه البائِساتْ

أَنْتَ صرْحٌ شادَهُ الحُبُّ على نهرِ الحياةْ

أَنْتَ صرْحٌ شادَهُ الحُبُّ على نهرِ الحياةْ

You are a dark cave where wretched women seek refuge.

You are a grave holding my remnants from early days

You are a gloomy cave where the wretched seek shelter;

You are a palace that love built upon the river of life,

You are a lute whose strings life's palm shredded

You are a citadel that Love built upon the river of life,

لِبَناتِ الشِّعْرِ لكنْ قوَّضَتْهُ الحادِثاتْ

لِبَناتِ الشِّعْرِ لكنْ قوَّضَتْهُ الحادِثاتْ

أَنْتَ قبرٌ فيه من أيامِيَ الأولى رُفاتْ

أَنْتَ قبرٌ فيه من أيامِيَ الأولى رُفاتْ

For the daughters of poetry—but calamities tore it down.

So in your speechless solitude amongst all creatures

For the daughters of Verse, yet calamities have razed it down.

You are a grave holding remains of my early days.

Silent as the grave but for the groans of memories

You are a grave holding the remains of my earliest days;

أَنْتَ عودٌ مزّقت أوتارَه كفُّ الحياةْ

أَنْتَ عودٌ مزّقت أوتارَه كفُّ الحياةْ

فهو في وحشته الخَرساءِ بَيْنَ الكائِناتْ

فهو في وحشته الخَرساءِ بَيْنَ الكائِناتْ

You are a lute whose strings the hand of life tore apart.

You are a haunted melody wandering in dead wastes

You are a lute whose strings the hand of Life has torn,

So it is, in its mute solitude among all beings,

You are a dawn hymn the darkness has chanted

So that in its mute desolation amidst all beings,

صامتٌ كالقبرِ إلاَّ من أنينِ الذِّكريات

صامتٌ كالقبرِ إلاَّ من أنينِ الذِّكريات

أَنْتَ لحنٌ ساحرٌ يَخْبُطُ في التِّيهِ المَواتْ

أَنْتَ لحنٌ ساحرٌ يَخْبُطُ في التِّيهِ المَواتْ

Silent as the grave, save for the moaning of memories.

O you wandering in the dark relentlessly

It is silent as the tomb, save for the moaning of memories.

You are a bewitching melody stumbling through the lifeless wilderness.

Head bowed, stumbling in the desert subdued in plaints

You are a bewitching melody stumbling through a dead wasteland;

أَنْتَ أنشودةُ فَجْرٍ رتَّلَتها الظُّلُماتْ

أَنْتَ أنشودةُ فَجْرٍ رتَّلَتها الظُّلُماتْ

أَيُّها السَّاري مع الظُّلْمةِ في غير أناةْ

أَيُّها السَّاري مع الظُّلْمةِ في غير أناةْ

You are a hymn of dawn that the darkness chanted.

Lost in life, unrewarded but with regrets

You are an anthem of dawn chanted by the darkness.

O night traveler, moving with the darkness in haste,

Pray, my heart, for death is coming

O you who journey with the darkness in reckless haste,

مُطرِقاً يَخْبُطُ في الصحراءِ مَكْبوحَ الشَّكاةْ

مُطرِقاً يَخْبُطُ في الصحراءِ مَكْبوحَ الشَّكاةْ

تُهْتَ في الدُّنيا وما أُبْتَ بغيرِ الحَسَراتْ

تُهْتَ في الدُّنيا وما أُبْتَ بغيرِ الحَسَراتْ

Head bowed, stumbling through the desert, your lament restrained.

Pray, for the life-taker leaves you nothing but prayer

Head bowed, stumbling through the desert with stifled complaint,

You lost your way in the world and returned with nothing but regrets.

You wandered lost in the world and returned with naught but regrets.

صلِّ يا قلبي إلى الله فإنَّ الموتَ آتْ

صلِّ يا قلبي إلى الله فإنَّ الموتَ آتْ

صَلِّ فالنّازعُ لا تبقى له غيرُ الصَّلاةْ

صَلِّ فالنّازعُ لا تبقى له غيرُ الصَّلاةْ

Pray, my heart, to God, for death is coming.

Pray, O my heart, to God, for death is surely coming;

Pray, for the dying have nothing left but prayer.

Pray, for the dying soul has nothing left but prayer.