أَيّارُ يا شاعِرَ الشُهورِ

أَيّارُ يا شاعِرَ الشُهورِ

وَبَسمَةَ الحُبِّ في الدُهورِ

وَبَسمَةَ الحُبِّ في الدُهورِ

May, O poet of the months,

O spring, O poet of the months

May, O poet of the months,

And love’s smile throughout the ages,

And smile of love through the ages

And smile of love throughout the ages,

وَخالِقَ الزَهرِ في الرَوابي

وَخالِقَ الزَهرِ في الرَوابي

وَخالِقَ العِطرِ في الزُهورِ

وَخالِقَ العِطرِ في الزُهورِ

And creator of blossoms on the hills,

And creator of flowers on the meadows

Creator of flowers upon the hills,

And creator of perfume in the flowers,

And creator of fragrance in blossoms

And creator of fragrance within the blooms,

وَباعِثَ الماءِ ذا خَريرٍ

وَباعِثَ الماءِ ذا خَريرٍ

وَموجِدَ السِحرِ في الخَريرِ

وَموجِدَ السِحرِ في الخَريرِ

And awakener of murmuring water,

And sender of rippling water

Who sets the water flowing with a murmur,

And maker of magic in its murmur,

And inventor of magic in the rippling

And places magic within that murmuring stream,

وَغاسِلَ الأُفق وَالدَراري

وَغاسِلَ الأُفق وَالدَراري

وَالأَرضِ بَِلنور وَالعَبيرِ

وَالأَرضِ بَِلنور وَالعَبيرِ

And washer of the horizon and the radiant stars,

And washer of horizons and valleys

Who washes the horizon and the shining stars,

And the earth, with light and fragrance:

And earth with light and scent

And the earth with light and perfume,

لَقَد كَسَوتَ الثَرى لِباساً

لَقَد كَسَوتَ الثَرى لِباساً

أَجمَلَ عِندي مِنَ الحَريرِ

أَجمَلَ عِندي مِنَ الحَريرِ

You have indeed clothed the earth in a garment

You have clothed the soil in a garment

You have clothed the soil in a garment

More beautiful to me than silk.

More beautiful to me than silk

More beautiful to my eyes than silk.

ما فيكَ قَر وَلا هَجيرٌ

ما فيكَ قَر وَلا هَجيرٌ

ذَهَبتَ بِالقَر وَالهَجيرِ

ذَهَبتَ بِالقَر وَالهَجيرِ

In you there is neither cold nor scorching heat;

You have neither discontent nor desolation

In you there is no biting cold nor scorching heat;

You have taken away cold and scorching heat.

You have taken away discontent and desolation

You have swept away the frost and the blaze.

فَلا ثُلوجٌ عَلى الرَوابي

فَلا ثُلوجٌ عَلى الرَوابي

وَلا غَمامٌ عَلى البُدورِ

وَلا غَمامٌ عَلى البُدورِ

So there is no snow upon the hills,

So there is no snow on the meadows

No snow remains upon the hills,

Nor clouds over the full moons.

And no clouds over homesteads

Nor clouds obscuring the full moons.

أَتَيتَ فَالكَونُ مِهرَجانٌ

أَتَيتَ فَالكَونُ مِهرَجانٌ

مِنَ اللَذاذات وَالحُبورِ

مِنَ اللَذاذات وَالحُبورِ

You have come, and the universe is a festival

You came so the universe is celebration

You have arrived, and the universe is a festival

Of delights and joy.

Of joys and loves

Of delights and jubilation.

أَيقَظتَ في الأَنفُسِ الأَماني

أَيقَظتَ في الأَنفُسِ الأَماني

وَالاِبتِساماتِ في الثُغورِ

وَالاِبتِساماتِ في الثُغورِ

You have awakened hopes within souls,

You awakened in souls their wishes

You awakened hopes within souls,

And smiles upon the lips.

And smiles in faces

And smiles upon the lips.

وَكُدتَ تُحيِ المَوتى البَوالي

وَكُدتَ تُحيِ المَوتى البَوالي

وَتُنبِتُ العُشبَ في الصُخورِ

وَتُنبِتُ العُشبَ في الصُخورِ

And you all but brought the decayed dead to life,

You almost revived the dead ruins

You nearly revive the decaying dead,

And you make grass grow among the rocks,

And grew grass on boulders

And cause grass to sprout from the rocks.

وَتَجعَلُ الشَوكَ ذا أَريجٍ

وَتَجعَلُ الشَوكَ ذا أَريجٍ

وَتَجعَلُ الصَخرَ ذا شُعورِ

وَتَجعَلُ الصَخرَ ذا شُعورِ

And give thorns fragrance,

And made the thorns aromatic

You make the thorns fragrant,

And give stone feeling.

And made the rocks sensitive

And grant feeling to the stones.

فَأَينَما سِرتُ صَوتُ بُشرى

فَأَينَما سِرتُ صَوتُ بُشرى

وَكَيفَما مِلُ طَيفُ نورِ

وَكَيفَما مِلُ طَيفُ نورِ

So wherever I go, a voice of glad tidings,

So wherever I went, good tidings sounded

Wherever I walk, there is a voice of glad tidings,

And whichever way I turn, a vision of light.

And however I turned, light caressed

And wherever I turn, a specter of light.

تَشكو إِلَيكَ الشِتاءَ نَفسي

تَشكو إِلَيكَ الشِتاءَ نَفسي

وَما جَناهُ مِنَ الشُرورِ

وَما جَناهُ مِنَ الشُرورِ

My soul complains to you of winter

My soul complains to you about winter

My soul complains to you of the winter,

And the evils it has wrought.

And the evils it brought

And the evils it has wrought.

كَم لَذَّعَ الزَمهَريرُ جِلدي

كَم لَذَّعَ الزَمهَريرُ جِلدي

وَدَبَّ حَتّى إِلى ضَميري

وَدَبَّ حَتّى إِلى ضَميري

How often the bitter cold scorched my skin

How the bitter cold lashed my skin

How often the bitter cold stung my skin,

And crept even into my conscience!

And crept into my conscience

And crept even into my very conscience.

فَلُذتُ بِالصوفِ أَتَّقيهِ

فَلُذتُ بِالصوفِ أَتَّقيهِ

فَاِختَرَقَ الصوفُ كَالحَريزِ

فَاِختَرَقَ الصوفُ كَالحَريزِ

So I sought refuge in wool to shield myself from it,

I took to wool to protect myself

I sought refuge in wool to ward it off,

But it pierced the wool as though it were silk.

But it penetrated like a sieve

But it pierced the wool, that heavy shield.

وَكَم لَيالٍ جَلَستُ وَحدي

وَكَم لَيالٍ جَلَستُ وَحدي

مِنقَبِضَ الصَدرِ كَالأَسيرِ

مِنقَبِضَ الصَدرِ كَالأَسيرِ

And on how many nights I sat alone,

And how many nights I sat alone

How many nights have I sat alone,

With my breast constricted, like a captive,

With chest contracted like a captive

My chest constricted like a prisoner's,

يَهتَزُّ مَعَ أَنمُلي كِتابي

يَهتَزُّ مَعَ أَنمُلي كِتابي

وَيَرجُفُ الحِبرُ في السُطورِ

وَيَرجُفُ الحِبرُ في السُطورِ

My book trembles along with my fingers,

My book tremors with my numb fingers

My book trembling in my fingertips,

And the ink quivers in the lines.

And the ink quivers on the pages

And the ink shivering within the lines.

تُعوِلُ فيها الرِياحُ حَولي

تُعوِلُ فيها الرِياحُ حَولي

كَنائِحاتٍ عَلى أَميرِ

كَنائِحاتٍ عَلى أَميرِ

On those nights, the winds wail around me

The winds howl around me

The winds wailing around me there,

Like women mourning a prince.

Like mourners for a prince

Like mourners weeping over a prince.

وَالغَيثُ يَهمي بِلا اِنقِطعٍ

وَالغَيثُ يَهمي بِلا اِنقِطعٍ

وَالرَعدُ مُستَتبِعُ الزَئيرِ

وَالرَعدُ مُستَتبِعُ الزَئيرِ

And the rain pours without ceasing,

And the rain pours ceaselessly

The rain pouring down without cease,

And thunder brings roaring in its wake.

With thunder roaring behind

And thunder following with its roar.

وَاللَيلُ مُحلَولِكُ الحَواشي

وَاللَيلُ مُحلَولِكُ الحَواشي

وَصامِتُ البَدء وَالأَخيرِ

وَصامِتُ البَدء وَالأَخيرِ

And the night is pitch-black at its edges,

And the night undoing its edges

The night, pitch-black at its edges,

And silent at its beginning and end.

Silent at beginning and end

Silent from beginning to end.

وَالشُهبُ مُرتاعَةٌ كَطَيرٍ

وَالشُهبُ مُرتاعَةٌ كَطَيرٍ

مُختَبِئاتٍ مِنَ الصُقورِ

مُختَبِئاتٍ مِنَ الصُقورِ

And the bright stars are frightened, like birds

And falling stars startled like birds

And the stars are terrified like birds,

Hiding from falcons.

Hiding from falcons

Hiding away from the hawks.

في غُرفَتي مَوقِدٌ صَغيرٌ

في غُرفَتي مَوقِدٌ صَغيرٌ

لِلَّهِ مِن مَوقِدي الصَغيرِ

لِلَّهِ مِن مَوقِدي الصَغيرِ

In my room is a little stove—

In my room, a small fireplace

In my room is a small hearth—

By God, that little stove of mine!

By Allah, from my small fireplace

God help me with my small hearth!

يَكادُ يَنقَدُّ جانِباهُ

يَكادُ يَنقَدُّ جانِباهُ

مِن شِدَّةِ الغَيظِ لا السَعيرِ

مِن شِدَّةِ الغَيظِ لا السَعيرِ

Its two sides almost split apart

Its sides nearly melt

Its sides nearly burst apart

From the intensity of rage, not the blaze.

Not from heat but from rage

From sheer rage, not from the flame.

لَولا لَظاهُ رَقَصتُ فيها

لَولا لَظاهُ رَقَصتُ فيها

بِغَيرِ دُفٍّ عَلى سَريرِ

بِغَيرِ دُفٍّ عَلى سَريرِ

Without its blaze, I would have danced there,

Were it not so fiery I would dance around it

Were it not for its blaze, I would have danced there,

Without a tambourine, upon a bed.

With no drums on my carpet

Without a drum, shivering upon my bed.

وَساعَةٍ وَجهُها صَفيقو

وَساعَةٍ وَجهُها صَفيقو

كَأَنَّهُ وَجهُ مُستَعيرِ

كَأَنَّهُ وَجهُ مُستَعيرِ

And a clock whose face is brazen,

And an hourglass with a gloomy face

And a clock with a brazen face,

As though it were the face of a borrower.

As if borrowed from a usurer

Like the face of a borrower,

أَبطَأَ في السَيرِ عَقرَباها

أَبطَأَ في السَيرِ عَقرَباها

فَأَبطَأَ الوَقتُ في المَسيرِ

فَأَبطَأَ الوَقتُ في المَسيرِ

Its two hands slowed in their course,

Its hands slowed on their course

Its hands moved ever so slowly,

So time slowed on its way,

So time slowed in its march

So time itself dragged in its course.

حَتّى كَأَنَّ الزَمانَ أَعمى

حَتّى كَأَنَّ الزَمانَ أَعمى

يَمشي عَلى الشَوكِ في الوُعورِ

يَمشي عَلى الشَوكِ في الوُعورِ

Until it was as though time were blind,

Until it seemed time had gone blind

As though Time were blind,

Walking upon thorns through rugged terrain.

Walking on thorns in rough terrain

Walking on thorns in rugged lands.

كُنّا طَوَينا المُنى وَقُلنا

كُنّا طَوَينا المُنى وَقُلنا

ما لِلأَماني مِنها عَلى قُبورِ

ما لِلأَماني مِنها عَلى قُبورِ

We had folded away our hopes and said,

We had folded up our wishes and said

We had folded away our hopes and said,

“What is there for hopes, from them, upon graves?” [Wording unclear in the source.]

No dreams remain by graves

There is no return for hopes from the graves.

فَلَو يَزورُ الصُدورَ حُلمٌ

فَلَو يَزورُ الصُدورَ حُلمٌ

عَرَّجَ مِنها عَلى قُبورِ

عَرَّجَ مِنها عَلى قُبورِ

For if a dream visited our breasts,

If a dream would visit hearts

If a dream were to visit our hearts,

It would turn aside from them toward graves.

And pass by the graves

It would turn from them towards the tombs.

لَقَد تَوَلّى الشِتاءُ عَنّا

لَقَد تَوَلّى الشِتاءُ عَنّا

فَصَفِّقي يا مُنى وَطيري

فَصَفِّقي يا مُنى وَطيري

Winter has indeed departed from us,

Winter has surely turned from us

But now winter has departed from us,

So clap, O hopes, and fly!

So clap, my wishes, and fly!

So clap your hands, O hopes, and fly!