أَبرا إِلى المَجدِ مِن حَرصي عَلى الطَلَبِ

أَبرا إِلى المَجدِ مِن حَرصي عَلى الطَلَبِ

وَمِن قِراعي عَلى الأَرزاقِ وَالرُتَبِ

وَمِن قِراعي عَلى الأَرزاقِ وَالرُتَبِ

Before glory, I disavow my eagerness for pursuit,

My aspirations to glory are greater than my desire for seeking,

And my battling for livelihoods and ranks.

And my knocks on the doors of livelihood and rank.

لَو أَنصَفَ الدَهرُ دَلَّتني غِياهِبُهُ

لَو أَنصَفَ الدَهرُ دَلَّتني غِياهِبُهُ

عَلى العُلى بِضِياءِ العَقلِ وَالحَسبِ

عَلى العُلى بِضِياءِ العَقلِ وَالحَسبِ

Had time been just, its darkest depths would have guided me

If fate had been just, its mysteries would have guided me,

To the heights, by the light of reason and ancestral honor.

To the heights, with the light of reason and pedigree.

ما يَنفَعُ المَرءَ أَحسابٌ بِلا جِدَةٍ

ما يَنفَعُ المَرءَ أَحسابٌ بِلا جِدَةٍ

أَلَيسَ ذا مُنتَهى حَظّي وَذاكَ أَبي

أَلَيسَ ذا مُنتَهى حَظّي وَذاكَ أَبي

What good are noble lineages to a man without wealth?

Of no benefit to a man are pedigrees without effort,

Is this not the limit of my fortune, while that man is my father?

Is this not the limit of my fortune, and that of my father?

الآنَ أَطلُبُ ثاراتي بِمَقرَبَةٍ

الآنَ أَطلُبُ ثاراتي بِمَقرَبَةٍ

خَدَعتُها عَن غَميرِ النَورِ وَالعُشُبِ

خَدَعتُها عَن غَميرِ النَورِ وَالعُشُبِ

Now I seek my vengeance on a cherished mare,

Now I seek to avenge myself with an intimate friend,

I lured her away from lush growth of blossoms and grass.

Whom I deceived away from the deep valley and grass.

يَجولُ صَدرُ الضُحى في أُفُقِ قَسطَلِها

يَجولُ صَدرُ الضُحى في أُفُقِ قَسطَلِها

وَاليَومُ بَينَ العَوالي ضَيِّقُ اللَبَبِ

وَاليَومُ بَينَ العَوالي ضَيِّقُ اللَبَبِ

Morning's breast roams along her dust-cloud's horizon,

The breast of dawn roams in the horizon of its glades,

And day, amid the tall spears, is tight of breast.

While this day amongst the hilltops is narrow in expanse.

أَنضَيتُ سِتّاً وَعَشراً ما قَضَيتُ بِها

أَنضَيتُ سِتّاً وَعَشراً ما قَضَيتُ بِها

سِوى المُنى وَطَراً إِلّا مِنَ الأَدَبِ

سِوى المُنى وَطَراً إِلّا مِنَ الأَدَبِ

I have worn out sixteen, yet through them have never fulfilled

I have lived sixty and ten years, in which I have gained,

A desire beyond wishes, save in literature.

Nothing but wishes, while roaming, but from knowledge.