1. جُعتُ وَالخُبزُ وَفيرٌ في وِطابي

    وَالسَنا حَولي وَروحي في ضَبابِ

    I hungered, though bread was plentiful in my leather bags,

    And light was all around me, while my soul was in a fog.

  2. وَشَرِبتُ الماءَ عَذباً سائِغاً

    وَكَأَنّي لَم أَذُق غَيرَ سَرابِ

    And I drank water, sweet and pleasant to drink,

    And it was as though I had tasted nothing but a mirage.

  3. حَيرَةٌ لَيسَ لَها مَثَلٌ سِوى

    حَيرَةِ الزَورَقِ في طاغي العُبابِ

    Bewilderment with no parallel save

    The bewilderment of a skiff in the raging swell.

  4. لَيسَ بي داءٌ وَلَكِنّي اِمرُؤٌ

    لَستُ في أَرضي وَلا بَينَ صَحابي

    I have no illness, but I am a man

    Not in my own land, nor among my companions.

  5. مَرَّتِ الأَعوامُ تَتلو بَعضَها

    لِلوَرى ضِحكي وَلي وَحدي اِكتِئابي

    The years passed, one following another;

    My laughter was for humankind; my gloom was mine alone.

  6. كُلَّما اِستَولَدتُ نَفسي أَمَلاً

    مَدَّتِ الدُنيا لَهُ كَفَّ اِغتِصابِ

    Whenever I made my soul give birth to hope,

    The world reached for it with a plundering hand.

  7. أَفلَتَت مِنّي حَلاواتُ الرُؤى

    عِندَما أَفلَتُّ مِن كَفّي شَبابي

    The sweetness of visions slipped away from me

    When I let my youth slip from my hand.

  8. بِتُّ لا الإِلهامُ بابٌ مُشَرَعٌ

    لي وَلا الأَحلامُ تَمشي في رِكابي

    Now inspiration is no door thrown open

    For me, nor do dreams walk in my train.

  9. أَشتَهي الخَمرَ وَكَأسي في يَدي

    وَأُحِسُّ الروحَ تَعرى في ثِيابي

    I crave wine, though my cup is in my hand,

    And I feel my soul grow naked within my clothes.

  10. يا رِفاقي حَطِّموا أَقداحَكُم

    لَيسَ في دَنِّيَ خَمرٌ لِاِنسِكابِ

    O my companions, shatter your cups:

    There is no wine in my jar to pour out.

  11. جَفَّ ضَرعُ الشِعرِ عِندي وَذَوى

    وَلَكَم عاشَ لِمَريٍ وَاِحتِلابِ

    Poetry's udder has dried and withered in me,

    And how long it lived to be stroked and milked!

  12. أَيُّها السائِلُ عَنّي مَن أَنا

    أَنا كَالشَمسِ إِلى الشَرقِ اِنتِسابي

    O you who ask about me—who I am—

    I am like the sun: I belong to the East.

  13. لُغَةُ الفولاذِ هاضَت لُغَتي

    لا يَعيشُ الشَدوُ في دُنيا اِصطِخابِ

    The language of steel has broken my language;

    Song cannot live in a world of clamour.

  14. لَستُ أَشكو إِن شَكا غَيري النَوى

    غُربَةُ الأَجسامِ لَيسَت بِاِغتِرابِ

    I do not complain, even if others lament separation;

    Bodily exile is not estrangement.

  15. أَنا كَالكَرمَةِ لَو لَم تَغتَرِب

    ما حَواها الناسُ خَمراً في الخَوابي

    I am like the vine: had it not gone abroad,

    People would not have stored it as wine in jars.

  16. أَنا كَالسَوسَنِ لَو لَم يَنتَقِل

    لَم يُتَوَّج زَهرُهُ رَأسَ كَعابِ

    I am like the iris: had it not been moved,

    Its blossom would not have crowned a maiden's head.

  17. أَنا في نيويوركَ بِالجِسمِ وَبِالـ

    ـروحِ في الشَرقِ عَلى تِلكَ الهِضابِ

    I am in New York in body, and in

    Spirit in the East, upon those heights;

  18. في اِبتِسامِ الفَجرِ وَفي صَمتِ الدُجى

    في أَسى تِشرينَ في لَوعَةِ آبِ

    In dawn's smile and in the silence of night,

    In Tishrin's sorrow, in August's anguish.

  19. أَنا في الغوطَةِ زَهرٌ وَنَدىً

    أَنا في لُبنانَ نَجوى وَتَصابي

    In Ghouta I am blossom and dew;

    In Lebanon I am intimate whispers and youthful play.

  20. رَبِّ هَبني لِبِلادي عَودَةً

    وَليَكُن لِلغَيرِ في الأُخرى ثَوابي

    My Lord, grant me a return to my homeland,

    And let my reward in the hereafter be for others.

  21. أَيُّها الآتونَ مِن ذاكَ الحِمى

    يا دُعاةَ الخَيرِ يا رَمزَ الشَبابِ

    O you who come from that sanctuary,

    O advocates of good, O symbol of youth,

  22. كَم هَشَشنا وَهَشَشتُم لِلمُنى

    وَبَكَيتُم وَبَكَينا في مُصابِ

    How often we rejoiced, and you rejoiced, in hopes,

    And you wept, and we wept, in affliction,

  23. وَاِشتَرَكنا في جِهادٍ أَو عَذابِ

    وَاِلتَقَينا في حَديثٍ أَو كِتابِ

    And we shared in struggle or suffering,

    And we met in conversation or in a book,

  24. وَعَرَفتُم وَعَرَفنا مِثلَكُم

    أَنَّما الحَقُّ لِذي ظُفرٍ وَنابِ

    And you knew, and we knew as you did,

    That right belongs only to those with claws and fangs.

  25. كُلُّ أَرضٍ نامَ عَنها أَهلُها

    فَهيَ أَرضٌ لِاِغتِصابٍ وَاِنتِهابِ

    Every land whose people sleep heedless of it

    Is therefore a land for seizure and plunder.

  26. إِنَّني أَلمَحُ في أَوجُهِكُم

    دَفقَةَ النورِ عَلى تِلكَ الرَوابي

    Indeed, I glimpse in your faces

    The outpouring of light upon those hills;

  27. وَأَرى أَشباحَ أَعوامٍ مَضَت

    في كِفاحٍ وَنِضالٍ وَوَثابِ

    And I see the ghosts of years gone by

    In struggle, resistance, and leaps forward;

  28. وَأَرى أَطيافَ عَصرٍ زاهِرٍ

    طالِعٍ كَالشَمسِ مِن خَلفِ الحِجابِ

    And I see visions of a radiant age

    Rising like the sun from behind the veil.

  29. لَيتَهُ يُسرِعُ كَي أُبصِرَهُ

    قَبلَ أَن أَغدو تُراباً في التُرابِ

    If only it would hasten, so I might behold it,

    Before I become dust amid the dust.