أَنا لَستُ في دُنيا الخَيال وَلا الكَرى

أَنا لَستُ في دُنيا الخَيال وَلا الكَرى

وَكَأَنَّني فيها لِرَوعَةِ ما أَرى

وَكَأَنَّني فيها لِرَوعَةِ ما أَرى

I am not in the world of imagination or sleep,

I am not in a world of fantasy or delusion,

I am not in a world of fantasy nor of sleep, / Yet, for the splendor of what I behold, it seems as if I am.

Yet I seem to be, for the wonder of what I see.

Yet it is as if I am, due to the horror of what I see,

O people, are these realities or mere visions? / Am I sober, or have I drunk some numbing wine?

يا قَومُ هَل هَذي حَقائِقُ أَم رُأىً

يا قَومُ هَل هَذي حَقائِقُ أَم رُأىً

وَأَنا أَصاحٍ أَم شَرِبتُ مُخَدِّرا

وَأَنا أَصاحٍ أَم شَرِبتُ مُخَدِّرا

O people, are these realities or visions?

O people! Is this reality or just a vision I viewed,

Do not marvel at my astonishment and bewilderment, / But marvel indeed if I were not bewildered.

And am I awake, or have I drunk a narcotic?

While fully awake, or have I been drugged with anesthetics?

Wherever I turn, I see the masterpiece of a skillful poet / Who strove for perfection solely to dazzle the eye.

لا تَعجَبوا مِن دَهشَتي وَتَحَيُّري

لا تَعجَبوا مِن دَهشَتي وَتَحَيُّري

وَتَعَجَّبوا إِن لَم أَكُن مُتَحَيِّرا

وَتَعَجَّبوا إِن لَم أَكُن مُتَحَيِّرا

Do not marvel at my astonishment and bewilderment;

Do not be shocked at my bewilderment and confusion,

Life anointed his eyelids with her finger, / So he saw all beauties, then selected and chose the best.

Rather marvel if I am not bewildered.

But be shocked if I were not confused,

Los Angeles is naught but a divine anthem; / God sang it, and the world went mad in rapture.

كَيفَ اِلتَفَتُّ رَأَيتُ آيَةَ شاعِرٍ

كَيفَ اِلتَفَتُّ رَأَيتُ آيَةَ شاعِرٍ

لَبِقٍ تَعَمَّدَ أَن يُجيدَ لِيُبهِرا

لَبِقٍ تَعَمَّدَ أَن يُجيدَ لِيُبهِرا

Whichever way I turn, I see the masterpiece of a poet

How could I not turn to see the verse of a skilled poet,

Time has cast off its youth upon this land, / Turning to verdure on the slopes and mountain peaks.

So deft, intent on excellence to dazzle.

Who deliberately excelled in composing to dazzle others?

It took from capital cities their glory and majesty, / While embracing the sweet charm of the villages.

مَسَحَت بِإِصبَعِها الحَياةُ جُفونَهُ

مَسَحَت بِإِصبَعِها الحَياةُ جُفونَهُ

فَرأى المَحاسِنَ فَاِنتَقى وَتَخَيَّرا

فَرأى المَحاسِنَ فَاِنتَقى وَتَخَيَّرا

Life brushed his eyelids with her finger,

Life gently touched his eyelids,

It is a respite for the weary, a paradise for lovers, / And a playground for those of great wealth.

So he saw the beauties, selected and chose.

So he saw the beauties and selectively chose and picked,

In New York, I shrouded the dreams of my youth, / Folding them away, thinking they would never rise again.

ما لوس أَنجِلوس سِوى أُنشودَةٍ

ما لوس أَنجِلوس سِوى أُنشودَةٍ

اللَهُ غَنّاها فَجُنَّ لَها الوَرى

اللَهُ غَنّاها فَجُنَّ لَها الوَرى

Los Angeles is nothing but a song

Los Angeles is nothing but a hymn,

But when I glimpsed the flowers here, / I saw my dreams peeking out from the earth.

God sang, and humankind went mad for it.

God has made it melodious, so the people became crazy about it,

The hills breathe out gold dust in the bright forenoon, / And fragrant musk in the late afternoon shadows.

خَلَعَ الزَمانُ شَبابَهُ في أَرضِها

خَلَعَ الزَمانُ شَبابَهُ في أَرضِها

فَهوَ اِشضِرارٌ في السُفوح وَفي الذُرى

فَهوَ اِشضِرارٌ في السُفوح وَفي الذُرى

Time shed his youth upon her soil,

Time has shed its youth in its land,

There is magic in the laughter of the glistening dew, / Like the magic in the dance of the scented light.

So it is greenness on the slopes and on the peaks.

So it is verdant on the slopes and in the groves,

Tell those who described Paradises with such excess: / The Gardens of Eternity offer no more wondrous sight than this.

أَخَذَت مِنَ المُدُنِ العَواصِمِ مَجدَها

أَخَذَت مِنَ المُدُنِ العَواصِمِ مَجدَها

وَجَلالَها وَحَوَت حَلاواتِ القُرى

وَجَلالَها وَحَوَت حَلاواتِ القُرى

She took the glory of the capital cities

It has taken the glory and majesty of great cities,

Every season here is a laughing spring; / To see a single month is to see them all.

And their majesty, and embraced the charms of villages.

And it contains the sweetness of villages,

If you know not the tales of passion, / Then listen to the whisper of the breeze as it flows.

هِيَ راحَةٌ لِلمُتعَبين وَجَنَّةٌ

هِيَ راحَةٌ لِلمُتعَبين وَجَنَّةٌ

لِلعاشِقين وَمَلعَبٌ لِذَوي الثَرا

لِلعاشِقين وَمَلعَبٌ لِذَوي الثَرا

She is rest for the weary and a paradise

It is rest for the weary, a paradise for lovers,

Look at the dusty earth sprouting silk brocade, / And contemplate the streams flowing like the Kawthar of Paradise.

For lovers, and a playground for the wealthy.

And a playground for the wealthy,

Drink in the beauty with your eyes, for it is a wine / That cannot be pressed save by the hand of passion.

كَفَّنتُ في نيويوركَ أَحلامَ الصِبا

كَفَّنتُ في نيويوركَ أَحلامَ الصِبا

وَطَوَيتُها وَحَسَبتُها لَن تُنشَرا

وَطَوَيتُها وَحَسَبتُها لَن تُنشَرا

In New York I shrouded the dreams of youth,

I buried my childhood dreams in New York,

I attempted to describe its beauty, but I felt / Like a child trying to cup the oceans in his fingertips.

And folded them away, thinking they would not rise again.

Folded them up and thought they would never bloom,

My soul sought aid from imagination, but it betrayed me, / And the steed of my eloquence stumbled and fell.

لَكِنَّني لَمّا لَمَحتُ زُهورَها

لَكِنَّني لَمّا لَمَحتُ زُهورَها

شاهَدتُ أَحلامي تَطُلُّ مِنَ الثَرى

شاهَدتُ أَحلامي تَطُلُّ مِنَ الثَرى

But when I glimpsed her flowers,

But when I caught a glimpse of its flowers,

I realized my failure and my weakness / When I beheld what the Divine had crafted and shaped.

I saw my dreams peering out from the soil.

I saw my dreams sprouting from the soil,

I have witnessed beauty that is true and unfeigned— / Wretched is the beauty that is faked and forged.

تَتَنَفَّسُ الهَضَباتُ في رَأدِ الضُحى

تَتَنَفَّسُ الهَضَباتُ في رَأدِ الضُحى

تِبرا وَفي الآصالِ مِسكاً أَذفَرا

تِبرا وَفي الآصالِ مِسكاً أَذفَرا

The hills breathe out in the early forenoon

The slopes breathe myrrh in the radiance of dawn,

I loved even the thorns in its desert, / And I adored even its haughty palm trees,

Gold dust, and at evening, fragrant musk.

And ambergris in the thickets,

Clad in dry fronds as if in asceticism, / Yet towering toward the heavens in sheer pride.

فَالسِحرُ في ضَحِكِ النَدى مُتَرَقرِقاً

فَالسِحرُ في ضَحِكِ النَدى مُتَرَقرِقاً

كَالسِحرِ في رَقصِ الضِياءِ مُعَطَّرا

كَالسِحرِ في رَقصِ الضِياءِ مُعَطَّرا

The magic in the dew's shimmering laughter

So magic sparkles in the smile of the dew,

It is the Adam of trees; modesty overtook it / When its nakedness was revealed, so it covered itself.

Is like the magic in the light's perfumed dance.

Like the magic in the dance of perfumed light,

The son of the deserts has become civilized and refined; / Oh, how beautiful he is, both as bedouin and city-dweller.

قُل لِلأُلى وَصَفوا الجِنان وَأَطنَبوا

قُل لِلأُلى وَصَفوا الجِنان وَأَطنَبوا

لَيسَت جِنانُ الخُلدِ أَعجَبَ مَنظَرا

لَيسَت جِنانُ الخُلدِ أَعجَبَ مَنظَرا

Tell those who described paradise at length:

Tell those who described the gardens and exaggerated,

The orange groves appeared, resembling / A maiden's gown buttoned with pure gold.

The gardens of eternity are no more wondrous to behold.

The gardens of eternity are not more wondrous in appearance,

Above them, the light spread out like a sheet, / Beneath a sky that was clear and crystalline.

كُلُّ الفُصولِ هُنا رَبيعٌ ضاحِكٌ

كُلُّ الفُصولِ هُنا رَبيعٌ ضاحِكٌ

فَإِذا تَرى شَهراً رَأَيتَ الأَشهُرا

فَإِذا تَرى شَهراً رَأَيتَ الأَشهُرا

All the seasons here are a laughing spring;

So if you see one month, you have seen all months,

And those palaces upon the hills seemed like / A beauty's necklace that had fallen and scattered.

So when you see one month, you have seen them all.

If you do not know the tales of passion,

When they appeared from afar, I fancied them to be ships, / And I fancied the earth a vast green sea.

إِن كُنتَ تَجهَلُ ما حِكاياتُ الهَوى

إِن كُنتَ تَجهَلُ ما حِكاياتُ الهَوى

فَاِنصُت لِوَشوَشَةَ النَسيمِ إِذا سَرى

فَاِنصُت لِوَشوَشَةَ النَسيمِ إِذا سَرى

If you do not know what the tales of love are,

Then listen to the murmur of the breeze when it stirs,

Morning shook its radiance upon their walls, / And when darkness came, it saw beacons for the night-traveler,

Then listen to the breeze's whispering as it drifts.

And watch the dunes sprout lilies,

Glittering like smiles of contentment, / The sight of which makes you forget harsh times.

وَاِنظُر إِلى الغَبراءِ تُنبِتُ سُندُساً

وَاِنظُر إِلى الغَبراءِ تُنبِتُ سُندُساً

وَتَأَمَّلِ الغُدرانَ تَجري كَوثَرا

وَتَأَمَّلِ الغُدرانَ تَجري كَوثَرا

And watch the dusty earth sprout fine silk,

And observe the streams flowing copiously,

I am a poet; no phantom of grace appears / But that I cheer for Beauty and glorify its name.

And contemplate the pools flowing as Kawthar.

And drink in the beauty with your eyes, for it is

I have distributed my soul among souls as love, / Neither complaining of pain nor showing weariness.

وَاِشرَب بِعَينَيكَ الجَمالَ فَإِنَّهُ

وَاِشرَب بِعَينَيكَ الجَمالَ فَإِنَّهُ

خَمرٌ بِغَيرِ يَدِ الهَوى لَن تُعصَرا

خَمرٌ بِغَيرِ يَدِ الهَوى لَن تُعصَرا

And drink beauty with your eyes, for it is

Wine that the hand of passion alone can press,

I walked through the world with a withered heart, / Until I met my loved ones, and it bloomed green again.

Wine that will not be pressed without love's hand.

I tried to describe its beauty, but it was as if

I used to deem myself a lost entity, / But lo, I am a person living many lives in others.

حاوَلتُ وَصفَ جَمالِها فَكَأَنَّني

حاوَلتُ وَصفَ جَمالِها فَكَأَنَّني

وَلَدٌ بِأُنمُلِهِ يَحوشُ الأَبحُرا

وَلَدٌ بِأُنمُلِهِ يَحوشُ الأَبحُرا

I tried to describe her beauty, and seemed

A newborn babe with his fingers searches the oceans,

I am like the rain from the clouds: when absorbed / Into the earth, it returns as fruitful boughs.

A child gathering the seas with his fingertips.

And my soul sought the aid of imagination, but it failed me,

How generous are the trees in this sanctuary! / Offering cheer and hospitality to all who seek them.

وَاِستَنجَدَت روحي الخَيالَ فَخانَني

وَاِستَنجَدَت روحي الخَيالَ فَخانَني

وَكَبا جَوادُ فَصاحَتي وَتَعَثَّرا

وَكَبا جَوادُ فَصاحَتي وَتَعَثَّرا

My soul called imagination to its aid, but it betrayed me,

And the steed of my eloquence collapsed and stumbled,

They generously feast the poor despite his want, / Just as they feast the wealthy and the well-to-do.

And the steed of my eloquence stumbled and faltered.

I realized my shortcoming and weakness when

Giving is their habit, whether you come to them / First in line or arriving at the end.

أَدرَكتُ تَقصيري وَضَعفِيَ عِندَما

أَدرَكتُ تَقصيري وَضَعفِيَ عِندَما

أَبصَرتُ ما صَنَعَ الإِلاه وَصَوَّرا

أَبصَرتُ ما صَنَعَ الإِلاه وَصَوَّرا

I realized my inadequacy and weakness when

I saw what God has created and fashioned,

It is as if they learned generosity from you, / To succor the people should calamity befall.

I saw what God had made and shaped.

Indeed, I witnessed genuine, unadulterated beauty,

إِنّي شَهِدتُ الحُسنَ غَيرَ مُزَيَّفٍ

إِنّي شَهِدتُ الحُسنَ غَيرَ مُزَيَّفٍ

بِئسَ الجَمالُ مُزَيَّفا وَمُزَوَّرا

بِئسَ الجَمالُ مُزَيَّفا وَمُزَوَّرا

Indeed, I witnessed beauty that was not counterfeit;

Wretched is the artificial, fabricated beauty,

Wretched is beauty falsified and forged.

I loved even the thorns in its desert,

أَحبَبتُ حَتّى الشَوكَ في صَحرائِها

أَحبَبتُ حَتّى الشَوكَ في صَحرائِها

وَعَشِقتُ حَتّى نَخلَها المُتَكَبِّرا

وَعَشِقتُ حَتّى نَخلَها المُتَكَبِّرا

I loved even the thorns in her desert,

And was enamored even with its arrogant palm trees,

And adored even her haughty palms,

The one wearing dry leaves in piety,

اللابِسَ الوَرَقَ اليَبيسَ تَنَسُّكاً

اللابِسَ الوَرَقَ اليَبيسَ تَنَسُّكاً

وَالمُشمَخِرَّ إِلى السَماءِ تَجَبُّرا

وَالمُشمَخِرَّ إِلى السَماءِ تَجَبُّرا

Wearing dry leaves in ascetic devotion,

And the one reaching to the sky in arrogance,

And towering toward the sky in arrogant pride.

He is the Adam of the trees, who donned clothes

هُوَ آدَمُ الأَشجارِ أَدرَكَهُ الحَيا

هُوَ آدَمُ الأَشجارِ أَدرَكَهُ الحَيا

لَمّا تَبدّى عُريُهُ فَتَسَتَّرا

لَمّا تَبدّى عُريُهُ فَتَسَتَّرا

He is the Adam of trees; shame overtook him

When his nakedness appeared, so he covered himself,

When his nakedness appeared, so he covered himself.

The son of the deserts has become civilized and refined,

إِبنُ الصَحارى قَد تَحَضَّر وَاِرتَقى

إِبنُ الصَحارى قَد تَحَضَّر وَاِرتَقى

يا حُسنَهُ مُبتَدِياً مُتَحَضِّرا

يا حُسنَهُ مُبتَدِياً مُتَحَضِّرا

The son of the deserts has grown civilized and risen;

What a beautiful beginning to becoming cultured!

How lovely he is, Bedouin and civilized!

The orange groves appeared, resembling

وَبَدَت غِياضُ البُرتُقالِ فَأَشبَهَت

وَبَدَت غِياضُ البُرتُقالِ فَأَشبَهَت

جِلبابَ خَودٍ بِالنُضارِ مُزَرَّرا

جِلبابَ خَودٍ بِالنُضارِ مُزَرَّرا

And the orange groves appeared, resembling

The gown of a rosy cheeked beloved adorned with jewels,

A maiden's cloak, buttoned with gold.

Above it the light has spread illuminating,

مِن فَوقِها اِنتَشَرَ الضِياءُ مَلاءَةً

مِن فَوقِها اِنتَشَرَ الضِياءُ مَلاءَةً

مِن فَوقِهِ جَوٌّ صَفا وَتَبَلوَرا

مِن فَوقِهِ جَوٌّ صَفا وَتَبَلوَرا

Above them light spread as a sheet,

With a clear sky above it crystallizing,

Above it, the air grew clear and crystalline.

As if those villas on the hilltops are

وَكَأَنَّما تِلكَ القُصورِ عَلى الرُبى

وَكَأَنَّما تِلكَ القُصورِ عَلى الرُبى

عَقدٌ لِغانِيَةٍ هَوى وَتَبَعثَّرا

عَقدٌ لِغانِيَةٍ هَوى وَتَبَعثَّرا

And those palaces on the hills were like

A necklace for a love-struck singer scattered about,

A beauty's necklace, fallen and scattered.

When viewed from afar, its barrenness

لَمّا تَراءَت مِن بَعيدٍ خِلتُها

لَمّا تَراءَت مِن بَعيدٍ خِلتُها

سُفُنا وَخِلتُ الأَرضَ بَحراً أَخضَرا

سُفُنا وَخِلتُ الأَرضَ بَحراً أَخضَرا

When they appeared from afar, I thought them

Made the land appear like a green sea,

Ships, and thought the land a green sea.

Dawn shed its radiance on its walls,

نَفَضَ الصَباحُ سَناهُ في جُدرانِها

نَفَضَ الصَباحُ سَناهُ في جُدرانِها

وَأَتى الدُجى فَرأى مَناثِرَ لِسَرى

وَأَتى الدُجى فَرأى مَناثِرَ لِسَرى

Morning shook its radiance over their walls,

And dusk came to see the remnants of my joy,

And darkness came and saw beacons for night travel,

Glittering like smiles of contentment,

مُتَأَلِّقاتٍ كَاِبتِساماتِ الرِضى

مُتَأَلِّقاتٍ كَاِبتِساماتِ الرِضى

تُنسيكَ رُؤيَتُها الزَمانَ الأَعسَرا

تُنسيكَ رُؤيَتُها الزَمانَ الأَعسَرا

Shining like smiles of contentment,

Their vision makes you forget the hard times,

Seeing them makes you forget the harshest times.

I am a poet who saw no trace of beauty,

أَنا شاعِرٌ ما لاحَ طَيفُ مَلاحَةٍ

أَنا شاعِرٌ ما لاحَ طَيفُ مَلاحَةٍ

إِلّا وَهَلَّلَ لِلجَمال وَكَبَّرا

إِلّا وَهَلَّلَ لِلجَمال وَكَبَّرا

I am a poet: no vision of loveliness appears

Without exclaiming praise and declaring God’s greatness,

Without my hailing beauty and proclaiming its greatness.

I have spread love for myself in souls,

وَزَّعتُ نَفسي في النُفوسِ مَحبَّةً

وَزَّعتُ نَفسي في النُفوسِ مَحبَّةً

لا شاكِياً أَلَما وَلا مُتَضَجِّرا

لا شاكِياً أَلَما وَلا مُتَضَجِّرا

I shared myself among souls as love,

Neither complaining of pain, nor disgruntled,

Not complaining of pain, nor discontented.

And I walked in this world with a barren heart,

وَمَشَيتُ في الدُنيا بقَلبٍ يابِسٍ

وَمَشَيتُ في الدُنيا بقَلبٍ يابِسٍ

حَتّى لَقيتُ أَحِبَّتي فَاِخضَوضَرا

حَتّى لَقيتُ أَحِبَّتي فَاِخضَوضَرا

And I walked through the world with a dry heart,

Until I met my loved ones, so it turned green,

Until I met my loved ones, and it grew green.

I used to think I was a lost entity,

قَد كُنتُ أَحسَبُني كَياناً ضائِعاً

قَد كُنتُ أَحسَبُني كَياناً ضائِعاً

فَإِذا أَنا شَخصٌ يَعيشُ مُكَرَّرا

فَإِذا أَنا شَخصٌ يَعيشُ مُكَرَّرا

I had thought myself a lost being,

But instead I am a person living repeatedly,

But behold, I am a person living many times over.

So I am like rainwater when it seeps

فَكَأَنَّني ماءُ الغَمامِ إِذا اِنطَوى

فَكَأَنَّني ماءُ الغَمامِ إِذا اِنطَوى

في الأَرضِ رَدَّتهُ نَباتاً مُثمِرا

في الأَرضِ رَدَّتهُ نَباتاً مُثمِرا

So I am like cloud-water: when it sinks

Into the earth, it returns it to fertile produce,

Into the earth, she returns it as fruit-bearing plants.

How generous are the trees in this sanctuary!

ما أَكرَمَ الأَشجارِ في هَذا الحِمى

ما أَكرَمَ الأَشجارِ في هَذا الحِمى

فيها لِقاصِدِها البَشاشَة وَالقِرى

فيها لِقاصِدِها البَشاشَة وَالقِرى

How generous the trees are in this sanctuary!

In them are hospitality and shelter for visitors,

They offer whoever seeks them cheer and hospitality.

They host the poor despite his needy state,

تُقري الفَقيرَ عَلى خَصاصَةِ حالِهِ

تُقري الفَقيرَ عَلى خَصاصَةِ حالِهِ

كَرَماً كَما تُقري الغَنِيَّ الموسَرا

كَرَماً كَما تُقري الغَنِيَّ الموسَرا

They host the poor despite his straitened circumstances,

Generously, just as they host the wealthy affluent,

Generously, just as they host the wealthy and prosperous.

Charity is their custom, whether you come to them

البَذلُ دَيدَنُها سَواءٌ جِئتَها

البَذلُ دَيدَنُها سَواءٌ جِئتَها

مُتَقَدِّماً أَم جِئتَها مُتَأَخِّرا

مُتَقَدِّماً أَم جِئتَها مُتَأَخِّرا

Giving is their constant way, whether you come to them

Early or late,

Early or come to them late.

It is as if they have learned generosity from you

فَكَأَنَّها مِنكُم تَعَلَّمَتِ النَدى

فَكَأَنَّها مِنكُم تَعَلَّمَتِ النَدى

كَيما تُغيثُ الناسَ إِن خَطبٌ عَرا

كَيما تُغيثُ الناسَ إِن خَطبٌ عَرا

So it is as though they learned generosity from you,

In order to help people should calamities befall,

To succor people when calamity strikes.