1. دَجَى نهارُ الروضِ في فجرِهِ

    هلاّ سألتَ الزهرَ عن عمرِهِ

    The garden’s day grew dark at its dawn;

    Why not ask the blossoms how long their lives endure?

  2. لْهفي على الوردِ أنيقَ الصبى

    عاش نهاراً ماتَ في عصرِهِ

    Alas for the rose, so lovely in its youth—

    It lived one day and died that afternoon.

  3. الروضُ ولهانُ على فَقْدِهِ

    أَلا تَرَى الصُفرةَ في زهرِهِ

    The garden is distraught at losing it;

    Do you not see the yellow pallor in its flowers?

  4. باكرتُهُ أبكي أَنا والندى

    فدلَّنا الطّيبُ على قبرِهِ

    At dawn I came to it weeping—I and the dew—

    And fragrance showed us the way to its grave.

  5. الله في عهد طَغى شره

    وطاشت الأحلام في شرّه

    God help us in an age whose evil has overflowed,

    Where dreams have lost their way amid its wickedness,

  6. بين شذوذِ الحكم في بأسه

    وعند حقّ المرء في دهره

    Between the aberrance of rule in all its might

    And a person’s rightful claim within his age.

  7. من مبلغُ القوّة في عنفها

    أن أسيراً فُكّ من أسره

    Who will tell brute force, in all its violence,

    That a captive has broken free of his bonds?

  8. إنطلَقَ الفكر بعيدَ المدى

    كالصَّقر لمّا فرَّ من وَكره

    Thought broke loose toward a distant horizon,

    Like a falcon when it fled its nest.

  9. الثورةُ الغضبى مَدَى عينه

    وجُثَّةُ السلطةِ في ظِفْرِهِ

    Wrathful revolt filled the reach of its vision,

    And authority’s corpse lay within its talons.

  10. يا فاتحَ الجوّ اتَّئدْ برهةً

    فالجوُّ قد ضاق على صَقره

    O conqueror of the air, pause for a while—

    For the sky has grown too narrow for its falcon.

  11. ويحَ أديبٍ ثائراً لا يني

    والموتُ عدَّاءٌ على قَهره

    Woe for a man of letters, a tireless rebel,

    While death races onward to overpower him.

  12. رُبَّ مُنىً غرّارةٍ في الصبى

    كالوردِ فوّاحاً مدى شهره

    How many beguiling hopes arise in youth,

    Fragrant as a rose throughout its month.

  13. تاالله لا تسكنُ نفس امرئٍ

    قد شبّت الثورةُ في صدره

    By God, no human soul can rest

    Once revolt has flared within its breast.

  14. قِف بأديبٍ خاشعاً فالردى

    أصاب منه القلبَ في كِبره

    Stand reverently beside the man of letters, for death

    Struck his heart in his old age.

  15. وأسكَنَ الثورةَ في نفسه

    وأطفأ الشُّعلة في فِكرِه

    It stilled the revolt within his soul

    And quenched the torch within his thought.

  16. فلا اتّقادُ العزمِ في عينه

    ولا جَمالُ الحبّ في ثَغرِه

    No blaze of resolve remains within his eye,

    Nor love’s beauty upon his lips.

  17. بلى عَلَتْه كُدْرةٌ كالَّتي

    يَلبِسُها الأفق على بدره

    Instead, a murk has shrouded him, like that

    The horizon wears across its full moon.

  18. ذكَرتُه في بلد يزدهي

    بالأدَب الغضّ على فقره

    I remembered him in a land that takes pride

    In tender, budding literature despite its poverty,

  19. في الجولة الهوجاءِ ذات اللَّظى

    بين قديمِ الفنّ معْ عصره

    Amid the wild, flame-filled contest,

    Among the seasoned masters of art in his age.

  20. ثارتْ وقاد الشعر في إثرها

    وسارت الفرسانُ في إثره

    The struggle flared; he led poetry in its wake,

    And the horsemen rode behind him.

  21. وَيْلُمّها فاجعة في الوغى

    أن يسقُطَ الفارسُ عن مُهره

    Ah, what a calamity amid battle’s clash:

    That the horseman should fall from his young steed.

  22. قمْ ناجِ هذا الكونَ مستطلعاً

    أسرارَهُ والموت في سِرّهِ

    Rise and commune with this universe, seeking

    Its secrets—and death within its mystery.

  23. ما عِظَةٌ الدين بآياتِهِ

    ولا هُدَى العلم عَلى كُفرهِ

    Neither religion’s admonition, with all its signs,

    Nor science’s guidance, for all its skepticism,

  24. أبْلَغُ من قول الثَّرى للفتى

    هنا ثوى زيدٌ على عمرِوهِ

    Is more eloquent than the earth saying to the youth:

    “Here Zayd lies; his lifetime has run its course.”

  25. الموتُ في الدنيا مِلاكُ القوى

    لا يُغلَبُ الموت على أمره

    Death in this world is the principle governing every power;

    Death cannot be overcome in what it decrees.

  26. الشعر جانٍ لا تلُمْ شاعراً

    قد جعل الموتَ مدى فخرهِ

    Poetry is guilty—do not blame me, a poet,

    Who has made death the horizon of his poetry.

  27. تُغرِقُهُ اللُّجَّةُ إمّا طغت

    ولا يَني يسبَحُ في بَحْرهِ

    The deep will drown him whenever it surges,

    Yet he never ceases swimming in its sea.

  28. عاشَ أديبٌ شاعراً ليتَهُ

    لم يحسُبِ الموت مدى شعرهِ

    The man of letters lived a poet—if only he

    Had not reckoned death the bound of his poetry.

  29. راد المُنَى في جوّها هازئاً

    بالقدَر الراصدِ في خِدرهِ

    He sought hopes in their open sky, scoffing

    At fate lying in wait behind its curtain.

  30. فحطَّهُ عادي الرَّدى من علٍ

    والهَفةَ الجوّ على نَسْرِهِ

    But death’s onslaught shattered him from his heights—

    Oh, the sky’s anguish for its eagle!