حَجَبتَ وَقَد يَستَسِرُّ الهِلالُ

حَجَبتَ وَقَد يَستَسِرُّ الهِلالُ

وَيَظهَرُ مِن بَعد ما يُحجَبُ

وَيَظهَرُ مِن بَعد ما يُحجَبُ

You have veiled yourself; the crescent moon, too, sometimes hides,

You've veiled, while the crescent may still hide,

And reappears after being concealed.

Then re-emerge, unveiled, from behind the veil's divide.

وَقَد يُغمَدُ السَيفُ في جَفنِهِ

وَقَد يُغمَدُ السَيفُ في جَفنِهِ

وَيَظهَرُ حينَ بهِ يُضرَبُ

وَيَظهَرُ حينَ بهِ يُضرَبُ

And the sword is sometimes sheathed in its scabbard,

A sword in its sheath may be sheathed from sight,

And emerges when a blow is struck with it.

Then flash into view, when the time is right.

كَذاكَ السَماءُ إِذا ما الغَما

كَذاكَ السَماءُ إِذا ما الغَما

مُ أَلبَسَها سُترَةً تَسكُبُ

مُ أَلبَسَها سُترَةً تَسكُبُ

Likewise the sky, when the clouds

So too the sky, when shadows enrobe its frame,

Have clothed it in a veil, pours down rain.

Will unveil its sun, and its radiant flame.

وَفي الشَمسِ بُعدٌ وَأَنوارُها

وَفي الشَمسِ بُعدٌ وَأَنوارُها

إِذا طَلَعَت مَرَّةً تَقربُ

إِذا طَلَعَت مَرَّةً تَقربُ

And the sun is distant, yet its rays

Though now the sun's far, it will shortly wake,

Draw near once it rises.

And dawn, a new day, a new morning make.