نَوحُ الحَمامِ الوُرقِ في أَوراقِها

نَوحُ الحَمامِ الوُرقِ في أَوراقِها

دَلَّ أَخا الشَوقِ عَلى أَشواقِها

دَلَّ أَخا الشَوقِ عَلى أَشواقِها

The gray doves' lament amid their leaves

The cooing of the doves in their branches

revealed their yearnings to one who yearns.

Led the brother of longing to his longings

فَأَظهَرَ الدَّمعَ وَأَخفى زَفرَةً

فَأَظهَرَ الدَّمعَ وَأَخفى زَفرَةً

خافَ عَلى الباناتِ مِن إِحراقِها

خافَ عَلى الباناتِ مِن إِحراقِها

So he let his tears show and hid a sigh;

So he showed his tears and hid a moan

he feared it would set the bān trees aflame.

Fearing for the branches from being burnt

لَو بَكَتِ الوُرقُ بِبَعضِ أَدمُعي

لَو بَكَتِ الوُرقُ بِبَعضِ أَدمُعي

لاِمَّحَتِ الأَطواقُ مِن أَعناقِها

لاِمَّحَتِ الأَطواقُ مِن أَعناقِها

If the gray doves wept with some of my tears,

If the leaves cried with some of my tears

the neck-rings would vanish from their necks.

The boughs would gesture from their necks

فَاِعجَب لَها شاكِيَةً باكِيَةً

فَاِعجَب لَها شاكِيَةً باكِيَةً

لَم تَسلُكِ الدُموعَ في آماقِها

لَم تَسلُكِ الدُموعَ في آماقِها

So marvel at them, complaining and weeping,

So I wondered at her complaining and crying

though they have threaded no tears into their eye-corners.

Without sending tears into her pupils

سَقى دِمَشقَ اللَهُ غَيثاً مُحسِباً

سَقى دِمَشقَ اللَهُ غَيثاً مُحسِباً

مِن مُستَهَلِّ ديمَةٍ دَفّاقِها

مِن مُستَهَلِّ ديمَةٍ دَفّاقِها

May God water Damascus with ample rain,

Damascus was watered by Allah with rain

from the gushing outpour of a steady rain.

From the spout of a cloud pouring down

مَدينَةٌ أَحسِن بِها مَدينَةً

مَدينَةٌ أَحسِن بِها مَدينَةً

كَأَنَّما الجَنَّةُ مِن رُزداقِها

كَأَنَّما الجَنَّةُ مِن رُزداقِها

A city—how beautiful a city she is!

A city improved over any city

As though Paradise were part of her countryside.

As if Paradise was one of its meadows

تَوَدُّ زَوراءُ العِراقِ أَنَّها

تَوَدُّ زَوراءُ العِراقِ أَنَّها

مِنها وَلا تُعزى إِلى عِراقِها

مِنها وَلا تُعزى إِلى عِراقِها

Iraq's al-Zawra wishes she

The meadows of Iraq wish that they

were part of Damascus, not ascribed to her own Iraq.

Were from it, yet ascribed to their Iraq

أَشكو مِنَ الأَشواقِ ما شَكَتهُ جِل

أَشكو مِنَ الأَشواقِ ما شَكَتهُ جِل

لَقٌ إِلى المَودودِ مِن أَشواقِها

لَقٌ إِلى المَودودِ مِن أَشواقِها

I lament the longings that Jillaq lamented

I complain of passions which a beauty complained

to the beloved, out of her own yearnings.

To the loved one of her passions

حُقَّ لِبَدرِ الدينِ أَن تَحسُدَهُ

حُقَّ لِبَدرِ الدينِ أَن تَحسُدَهُ

عَلى العُلى البُدورُ في اِتِّساقِها

عَلى العُلى البُدورُ في اِتِّساقِها

Badr al-Din rightly deserves to be envied

It is right that Badr al-Din be envied

for his eminence by the full moons in their fullness.

By the full moons in their rising

كَمالُهُ أَحسَنُ مِن كَمالِها

كَمالُهُ أَحسَنُ مِن كَمالِها

فَصينَ طولَ الدَهرِ عَن محاقِها

فَصينَ طولَ الدَهرِ عَن محاقِها

His perfection is fairer than theirs,

His perfection is better than its perfection

so may he be shielded for all time from their waning.

Protecting for ages against its waning

قَد خَيَّمَ الرَبيعُ في رُبوعِها

قَد خَيَّمَ الرَبيعُ في رُبوعِها

وَسيقَتِ المُنى إِلى أَسواقِها

وَسيقَتِ المُنى إِلى أَسواقِها

Spring has pitched its tent in her quarters,

Spring has pitched its tents in its meadows

and wishes have been brought to her markets.

And wishes were led to its markets

اِختارَهُ اللَهُ لِخَيرِ أَرضِهِ

اِختارَهُ اللَهُ لِخَيرِ أَرضِهِ

إِذ لَيسَ مِثلُ الشامِ في آفاقِها

إِذ لَيسَ مِثلُ الشامِ في آفاقِها

God chose him for the best of His lands,

Allah chose him for the best of His earth

for nothing across the earth's horizons compares with al-Sham.

For nothing equals Syria in its horizons

فَقابَلَ الشامَ بِرَأيٍ رَتَّقَ ال

فَقابَلَ الشامَ بِرَأيٍ رَتَّقَ ال

أُمورَ بَعدَ شِدَّةِ اِنفِتاقِها

أُمورَ بَعدَ شِدَّةِ اِنفِتاقِها

So he met al-Sham with counsel that mended the

He met Syria with an opinion which repaired

affairs, after they had been grievously torn apart.

Affairs after the intensity of its breaking

ما غُلَّ في الحَربِ وَلَكِن غَلَّ أَي

ما غُلَّ في الحَربِ وَلَكِن غَلَّ أَي

دي عُصَبِ الكُفرِ إِلى أَعناقِها

دي عُصَبِ الكُفرِ إِلى أَعناقِها

He was not shackled in war, but shackled the hands

He was not harsh in war, but harsh

of the bands of unbelief to their necks.

Were his hands on the neck of disbelief

لا فَتِئَت أَيّامُهُ سَعيدَةً

لا فَتِئَت أَيّامُهُ سَعيدَةً

لا يَنكُثُ الدَهرُ قُوى ميثاقِها

لا يَنكُثُ الدَهرُ قُوى ميثاقِها

May his days never cease to be happy,

His days continued to be fortunate

may time never unravel the strands of their covenant.

Time does not break the strength of his pact